Yeah..hi everyone...this story is nothing like the ones i wrote before. I'm trying out a different genre.

This might be a EmilyxAlucard fanfic...but I'm not sure yet...its up to you!

I'll tell you about my character:

Name: Emily Proxy

Age: 15 (12.06.1995)

...and thats all you need for now :))))

I will reveal stuff about her later...

Reviews please, I want to know if this is a good idea :)) xxx

This Chapter will not involve anyone from Hellsing. They all arrive in the 2nd Chapter...I do not own anyone except for Emily ))

I often think that life is pointless. Millions of people go to work, earn money, consume, consume and consume things they don't even need. Do all those useless funky bits of fabric really make them happy? Or those disgusting bright paints that girls use to fix their faces?

Money...are they worth more than your life? Many people were murdered and assassinated because of those bits of cotton and linen.

Love...just pheromones. True love only exists in fairytales. Falling in love with somebody will only cause pain and sufferings...your lover turns you into a heartbroken shell.

Wisdom...I will never be able to know everything about the world because our universe is endless. Theoretically, it's still expanding, but for someone as small as a human the universe is endless. I often asked myself: would I want to live forever like the Elf's or Vampires? And I always came up with the same answer: No. I don't want to spend the eternity living in a world where I don't belong. Communism, capitalism, dictatorship, Christianity...it all tried changing people to suit their purpose. But people will never change. From Ashes we came to Ashes we shall go back.

...And that's how I ended up in Bethlem Royal Hospital in London. My parents were confused and frightened of my view on life. It all began when I was transferred to my new School. My mother brought me my new uniform, red and yellow blazer with a matching gray skirt and a pale white blouse. Uniform was designed to minimize the gap between wealthier and less wealthy pupils. It was necessary to wear it and I understood it perfectly well. But...what was that silky red...belt?

The next day I asked my father and he said it was a tie. A tie.

I completely refused to wear it. My first day at Grammar School turned into a catastrophe for everyone. My new teachers tried to explain how important ties were but their arguments weren't valid. I explained my point of view. Useless bits of fabric that make you feel uncomfortable and limit your movements. In any other circumstances I would be immediately thrown out of the school, but one of the elderly teachers became concerned. That's how I ended up visiting schools psychiatrist. After listening to me she became even more concerned.

~Flashback~

"This will be my last question for today Emily" she smiled warmly at me, but I could recognize the spark of concern in her deep brown eyes.

"I will give you 5 words. Chose the odd one out." She glanced at the piece of paper in front of her. "Painting, Poem, Flower, Novel and Statue." Her eyes met mine. I took a deep breath.

"Novel." This was the most obvious answer for me.

"Could you please explain why?"

"Paintings, statues, poems and flowers make us feel. When we look at them we see the magic of our world. We see the beauty or hatred of life, while novels simply give us an alternative. Alternative to this world. When we read novels we fool ourselves with the beauty of another reality." She looked confused. Confused and surprised.

"You seemed to like painting. All your masterpieces...contain patterns? Repeated patterns. Why so?"

"I consider them magnificent. Its a hard job to make them identical, but it makes me feel...peaceful."

"I think we will need to make an appointment with a more qualified specialist. How about we visit Dr. Taylor? He's a old friend of my and I'm sure he will be happy to listen to you." Yeah, I bet he will be extremely happy. Sometimes it really got on my nerves when people began treating me like a child.

~End of flashback~

Dr. Taylor asked similar questions. After about 30 minutes of talking he decided that I 'need help'. As I said before, my parents were happy to send me away into a madhouse. Bethlem Hospital was a madhouse.

After the first 3 months of me living in Bethlem the doctors came up with a diagnosis: schizophrenia. I had no idea I had it. Apparently it meant to be inherited.

Basically, if your point of view doesn't match with the 'majorities' point of view you are mental. This reminded me of the story about a wizard who wanted to punish the king and his family. He poisoned the water in the river from which everyone drank. Everyone but the king himself. The water made everyone in the kingdom turn insane. The king tried to bring order, but the majority of insane people couldn't understand him. In fact, they thought of him as a madman and decided to bring him down. The king had nothing else to do but to drink the water from the poisonous river. As soon as he did so he turned insane and returned to the throne because he became the same as everyone. One insane kingdom.

Bethlem will become my new home for the rest of my life. My new home and my beloved crypt.

I often think about taking a razor and fixing myself once and for all. No, not a razor. Pills, sleeping pills are perfect.

I chose the day. The day when Mr. Taylor was away for a conference in Liverpool. I wasn't considered to be one of the crazy psychos and was allowed to walk around and enjoy the view of the giant brick wall which surrounded this 'kingdom'. The same routine every day. Except for one little detail that my lovely nurse missed; I didn't swallow my sleeping pills (they gave me one every night). I collected them. Now I had around 20 tablets of midazolam. The amount might sound pathetic but midazolam is a very strong drug-based sleeping pill. I just need to wait until dusk so I could finally go to sleep and never wake up.

I did everything correctly. No blood, no ropes. Goodbye earth, I'm off to find something more suitable for me.

How wrong I was.

I fell into a sort of coma when my heart stopped beating for a while. I stopped breathing, and you could easily confuse it with…death. Qualified doctors can recognize the state but… it is rare, very rare. Surprisingly, there was no investigation, not police, no crying friends surrounding my 'dead' body. They simply said that I died from a heart attack. 5 days passed, and I was in a coffin surrounded by my family. On the 6th day I was buried. And on the 7th day I finally opened my eyes expecting to see something similar to heaven or hell but instead all I saw was nothing. It toke me a while to come up with a hypothesis of what might have happened.

It toke me about 3 minutes to realize that there was not enough oxygen.

What's gonna happen next? Will one strong almighty vampire dig her out?

Yeah..he probably will...

Reviews please :)