Author Notes:
This is one of the stories that I wrote during my mostly-family vacation in June. Only now did I finally get around to typing it up. : )
As always, I absolutely love and crave reviews. I'll forever adore you if you do so. : )
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Waiting
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Love is strong, love is true.
I'm waiting for it, longing for you.
-- Isabel Caila Samuels
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I sat wistfully at the edge of the forest with boredom by my side. There really isn't much one can do while they wait. This is one of the reasons my gift is so horrible — I can see what's going to happen, but the anticipation of said event was often enough to kill.
I crossed my legs daintily. The grassy kingdom around me was helpful — too beautiful to ignore. It took my mind off of things. My eyes took in the wild flowers that took up much of the meadow's floor space. The many tees surrounding me — red wood, pine, weeping willow — those were my favorite. The wispy grass as it flowed freely at the wind's discretion. I sighed. I was intensely jealous — I'm not entirely sure what of. As far as I know, I don't wish to be a tiger lily or a field of monkey grass. It was just so… comforting. The grassy knolls around me – not a care in the world. Who wouldn't want that kind of peace, that kind of serenity, ease, and security?
Waiting.
I sighed again. I'm impatient about time when I have the rest of forever waiting for me. Despicable.
Waiting.
I have to wait for the sun to hit the horizon just right before I could step in the messy woods to look for him. Oh — him. I tingled with happiness at the mere thought of it. Being on my own for so long with only the clothes on my back and a tiny silver locket to call my own — treacherous. One could only dream of the patience I have found.
I laughed sardonically. Patience. Where had it run off to?
Waiting.
The clouds had yet to disperse properly. The boy hadn't even entered the state, yet. He was so absorbed, so… depressed… when I'd seen him, I doubt he even knew where he was anymore. He might not even care. I wished, perhaps in vain, that I could alter that factor—his sadness, that is—but who could be sure? Well, actually, I had a better chance of knowing than most, but I didn't know him, yet. He might not even like me. My brow furrowed in frustration; I hoped that was not the case.
Waiting.
I wish I had a watch. I'm usually a little bit better at keeping track of the time, especially when the sun is such an amazing helper. But, the thing is, my normally lucid mind is so jumbled, so excited — oh, I have been waiting for this day to come since the day of my human birth. I couldn't remember anything of my human existence, but — this was the one thing my soul searched for. I knew it.
Waiting.
Perhaps, if I left now… no. That would change everything. My decision could alter the perfect future in front of me… I don't think I could handle that. The bitterness of being alone would kill me. I'd go crazy, I'd become a savage. It's been so hard as it is now, but if I find someone, perhaps with the same… ethical charity… as myself, I'd get past the thirst. I'd overcome the modernized drinking-from-humans that vampires are so well known for. I will have none of that. I won't even give myself the opportunity of 'drinking-and-ditching', as had been the case with and for me. I would surpass these difficulties.
Waiting.
I turned the locket over within my fingers. It was oval shaped. It was made out of silver, though it needed polishing badly. On the inside were two pictures: a photo of a baby with messy black hair — a much younger me, I assumed — and the other of a girl, a year or two younger, with sleeker, longer hair, but still me. On the outside, in beautifully elegant script, was the name 'Alice'.
Waiting.
I sniffed appreciatively and dropped the locket back on my glacial skin. I'd come a long way as of late. I had gone from waking up in the middle of a forest, confused beyond belief to someone — a vampire — with a bit of a handle on what she'd become. I was proud. Looking at my skin, I was sure it had to be a trick of the light, but it wasn't only that — everything about me was different. How I walked, how I spoke — I even became a little skinnier. I was more agile, as well — that was frightening. Only when I stumbled upon a small family camping did I get any sort of idea as to what I was. When I stared into the permanently terrified, lifeless eyes of a girl no more than five years old, did I make a promise to myself to never kill a human again. I'd succeeded so far, but I was still afraid I'd mess up. I couldn't do that. I wouldn't let myself.
Waiting.
I noticed with a euphoric happiness that it was almost time. The vision, the vision that I'd had only a few hours ago, was about to come to me. My legs itched to run into the woods and find him—mere minutes remained. When I found him, we were free to go to find the new coven, to find the ones we would call family. I smiled.
Waiting.
My beloved would soon be mind. I wondered if he knew what was about to happen. He couldn't possibly know, but still, my mind carefully examined the possibility. Perhaps, even if only by instinct, he did know — just a tiny inkling. I had to know. And I'd find out soon.
Waiting.
Almost there. I jumped off of the rock and began pacing. Patience, I mentally confirmed, had most definitely left me. I nodded dejectedly at the beautiful place I was about to leave. It was for the greater good, I had to reason with myself. I'd have a family. The concept was too good to ignore. I was only too ready to embrace it.
Waiting.
I'd always been fond of dancing — even though I couldn't be positive, I just knew. It came so naturally, and I loved to do it. My grace was impeccable. I wondered with a thoughtful grin if my running would be as dance-like as it usually was. In my desperate eagerness to find him, I was bound to stumble a few times. The thought somehow overjoyed me — it made me feel assurance. The inexplicable feeling I obtained from being without my usual poise made me sure that I really, truly wanted this. It sounded crazy, but it was like — it was as if something was telling me that this would work, that this person was for me. I wanted him so much that all feelings or wants, however subconscious or natural, of looking perfect would be wiped away in the moments to come. So, strange as it sounded, I hoped I fell. I hoped I ran into a tree. I hoped a snake flew out of some hole and rather pointlessly latched onto my neck (it couldn't really, truly hurt me, only momentarily halter my progress). It would only confirm that, even with my foresight, I wouldn't be paying attention to anything that wasn't him. I would run as if my life depended on it to get to him. With a sly grin, I quickly realized that it did.
There.
I said my silent goodbyes to the splendors of the meadow and said hello to something infinitely muchbetter. I ran for family, I ran for love, I ran for freedom, I ran for understanding, and I ran for sanity. I ran for life. I ran for him.