Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Knight. It belongs to its rightful owners.
NIGHT ZERO: PROLOGUE
Reika
"Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember . . ."
– "Once Upon A December," Deana Carter
MY MOTHER HAD always told me that I was beautiful.
She had only ever praised me on my features. She never uttered a word about how I was a great swimmer, never that I was the fastest reader out of the children. She didn't say a thing about how I could balance books on my head as I walked. She never said anything about how I had a natural talent for the violin. All that she ever told was how lovely I was. To her, I was a dainty, little doll that she was proud to have given birth to.
At first, it defined me.
As children, we tended to absorb words that we were told. The only things that mattered were the things that you received praise for. It was the same for me; I was spoiled to no end. I had eventually cared more about my hundreds of dresses than I cared about anything else. And for what? Because I was pretty, and my mother told me that I should.
The older I aged, the worse it had gotten. I loved when people bowed down at my feet. It gave me no greater pleasure than to see boys arguing over my face, declaring promises of marriage in the years to come. I loved to see myself as higher than everyone else. I had been spoiled with the title of practical royalty. There wasn't a thing that could snap me back to reality.
My mother had always warned that I was beautiful. Through rose-coloured lenses, I saw the world. She was the reason why my ego was as blown up as it was. A princess complex by the age of six, there wasn't a person in this damn world that could tell me otherwise.
So, on that night . . . that fateful night . . . I swore to believe no different. My resolve was crumbled, though, once my mother's blood had stained my ballroom gown. People of noble statuses cried out in voices fit for horror novels. Windows had been broken, coating the flooring in dangerous steps. And there was blood. So much of it that I felt my head spin.
My eyes had went wide as one of those monsters bent down to me, a sketchy grin adorning his twisted features.
"Silly girl," he murmured, his voice echoed as if possessed. "Beauty and status get you nowhere."
Maybe I'm doing this to please some part of me deep inside. If you guys weren't aware, a few years ago I was writing a Vampire Knight story for a few people who wanted it. Though, I'll admit, it was terrible. Tragic, even. But, I loved the hell out of that story, so I'm giving it a second shot to prove to myself that I'm not so bad anymore. Only time will tell, eh?
This story is apart of my series of OCs. Each story will have an OC love interest with a personality type to them. This story's personality type is:
Cool Beauty
Cool Beauties are often level-headed and graceful. They tend to be very popular among their peers, or greatly misunderstood.
~ Insane