This Was Our Mistake
People lie. You cheat and copy and pretend to be things you're not capable of being. Why? Because you're scared, scared that others will see you for whom you really are. What you really are. A monster. A cold hearted killer. You're so oblivious to the danger that surrounds you. We are everywhere. Everyone you think you know isn't who they say they are. They're one of us. Centuries of running and hiding in the shadows all leads up to this one moment when time stands still and something changes. Something snaps inside of you. A moment of realisation. You are completely and utterly alone and there's no apology in the world that encompasses all the reasons why we are the way we are. That's just how it is, the cycle. We stalk, we kill and then we do it again and again until eventually the blood lust is so strong that it manipulates us. We do everything in our power to control the thirst, whether it involves death or not. You would fight for the life of a friend but it's every man for himself, the way we see it. We are all killers, not one of us is different. We are one and the same. But you and I? We aren't and will never be remotely similar. We're not the same.
Vampirism is our lives. The way we choose to survive, the onlyway we can survive. Wespend our entire lives pretending, fooling you into thinking we're what you are. Human. You don't know who's who they say they are. You fear us; the real us. The us that would show no remorse to ripping into your neck and draining your body dry. We could go years, decades befriending you, gaining your trust. Slowly easing our way into your lives, making you think that we actually care about your wellbeing, that we wouldn't kill you at the chance to have a good feed. You're wrong. Humans always are. We don't care. And we have good reason not to. The second we let our wall down, let you in, tell you what we really are, you fray away. Scared. In fear of your life, our strength, speed, blood lust and power of mind control. You're not safe. Everything you think you knew, everything you believed was a lie. Your entire life is built on lies masked by compulsion, the only way we can be sure our secret is kept safe. We're everywhere. Blending in, constantly. Lurking in alleyways, the streets by night, stalking and hunting our prey. You run, as if that would save you. The thing about us is that we enjoy the kill, but we love the chase. We aren't kind or meant to use our abilities to make good. We would rather be staked in the chest or left with an unbearable thirst for the rest of eternity than be considered heroic. We stay in the dark, unseen, unheard and that's the way it will always be.
We are not incapable of love. We fall for humans. I did. I wouldn't take it back for the world. She made me feel alive; she made my non beating heart boom with excitement. But things change, things go from good to worse. One day, you wake up and you realise that you're not human and you can't be what they want you to be; what she wants you to be. The hunger's too strong. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you ignore it, it will always be there in the back of your mind. Pushing you to indulge in what you really crave. Blood. And because she's human, you can't… you can't take that risk. One second too long, one move too close and it's her blood on your hands, her lifeless body lay still in front of you as you process what you've done. As you stare down at the love of your life, all you can do is stare. No words can explain how you feel. You're lost. Metaphorically, existentially. The one person you loved more than anything in the world is dead because of your own stupidity and temptation. All you've left to do is hope and pray to the god that you never believed in, wishing that you wouldn't live to see another day, because without her, your world doesn't spin. Your life means so little without her around to guide you through each day. Because in the end, when you lose somebody, every candle, every prayer isn't going to make up for the fact that the only thing you have left is a hole in your heart where that somebody you loved, used to be.
Vampires aren't supposed to feel, but a human can change us. Your raw emotions and confessions of love towards us are enough to turn us soft. Despite knowing what we are, you still trust and care for us. We're not the good guys. We don't do good things. What we feel isn't going to make us good, make us want to adopt a puppy. We kill and lie and steal and we're not meant to feel guilt or remorse. But we do. And it sucks. We show emotion and when things get bad, those emotions get too heavy to carry around. And we snap. The human body is weak. Fragile. It takes all of one second to pin you against a wall by your neck. Squeezing tighter and tighter, your wind pipe slowly closing more and more. The fear in your eyes is replaced with sadness. You know you will die. You struggle against our force, but we're stronger; older. Every fibre in our body is telling us to go in for the kill. Your heart beat fades away and you're nothing but a limp, lifeless body and another victim added to our list. In a way, we don't feel it. Every ounce of sorrow and pain can be turned off, like a switch, our bodies essentially numb to any kind of emotion. But then we wonder. What would it be like to be human again? To be weak and vulnerable? To love and grow old with someone by your side for the rest of your short worthless life. But we're not human and we miss it. We miss it more than anything in the world. But we died once. We made our choice.
We chose this lifestyle.
This was our mistake.
Damon Salvatore