Chapter 1: The Change
"I don't want to be a vampire!" I screamed as I pounded my fists against my father's cold back.
"I'm doing this for you, Agatha!" my father roared as he sunk his razor sharp, pure white, teeth into my spine.
I screamed in pain as venom seeped into my blood stream. In a spilt second I saw my father crying before I slipped into a coma.
In the coma my mind seemed to watch several years of my life. The first memory that came to me was one when I first inquired about my father's numerous "business trips". I was five years old.
"Father, why do you go on so many business trips?" I asked my beloved guardian as I picked daisies in the field behind our town.
My father smiled at me warmly and bent down to pick me up. "Agatha, I go away to protect you."
"From what?" I demanded to know as I turned towards his coal black eyes. "Nanny Ariel is ever so mean to me! She makes me eat my meat last!"
"It's for your own good," my father said with a slight trace of pain in his usually kind and joyful voice. "You'll understand soon enough Aggie."
I had left the conversation at that, and hadn't thought about the situation until one day my father decided to reveal what the business trips really were for when I was twelve years old.
"Agatha, come down here," my father called from the lower section of our mansion. "I need to tell you something."
I came down the banister wearing my silk dress that had arrived from China a day earlier.
"What father?" I asked as I daintily stepped down from the last step.
For a moment my father didn't saw anything. He just stood there in awe. "You look so beautiful."
I smiled. "It's for my birthday party."
My father's smile instantly disappeared. "I need to tell you something about myself."
"What is it?" I asked as I sat next to him.
"I'm not really human," he began, looking sadly at me. "You know all of the deaths that have been happening in Bronxville? They were caused by me."
I was aghast! My father, a murder? It couldn't be possible. My father was the gentlest man alive.
"You're joking!" I insisted as I backed away from him.
Soon I believed his claim, due to the fact I once saw him kill a girl of eight years. My love for my father still over powered my hate and I had come to accept that my father for what he was, but he had promised that he would never turn me into one. That is, until the Accent's came.