Chapter 1

Life Past

They all ran while Aaron hid behind the smallest building in the square. He stood there and saw how his brothers and sisters were beaten and shoved into carts leading to prison or most commonly their death. He saw the wicked smiles on the men's faces as they beat his family mercilessly with their guns and whatever they found on the ground. He looked around to find his mother but there was too much chaos for him to find her. Suddenly he heard his mothers screams coming from an alley were she tried to escape as they took little 8 month old Alex from her side. He was still confused about what was going on in his surroundings, all he knows is that his father had told him to hide there and not to make a sound no matter what he saw. Aaron just understood one thing, he would never see his family again. Then he heard it, a shot broke through the chaos, his mothers agonizing screams seized. Aaron felt the tears roll down his cheeks as he silently whispered, "Good bye mother."

"Miss Bradfield!" Mary looked up from her notebook to stare at the enraged face of Mrs. Harper. Mary could never pay any attention in Mrs. Harpers' class because she was so boring. All she did was stand in front of the class and talk about how irresponsible kids are now a days. And then she gives them 5-10 worksheets and goes on to her neat and tidy desk to read a book. And whenever she walks her white hair slips out of her neat bun and her small physique and wrinkles bounce with every step. Mrs. Harper reminded Mary of her grandmother. That is if she knew her, but Mary liked to fantasize that she would look something like her teacher.

" Miss Bradfield, how many times have I told you to put that notebook up?" Mary looked around the room and saw that everybody was staring at her with the same expression, as if they were saying what is it this time? But she boldly stood up and directly told Mrs. Harper, " I'm sorry if I interrupted your class Mrs. Harper. I suddenly got inspiration for my story and just had to write it down. Truly you can not punish me for expressing myself?" Mary stood there and stared at the irritated face of her teacher. And all too calmly Mrs. Harper said, "No my dear, I can not punish you for expressing yourself."

Mary smiled to herself but noticed that an evil grin had creped up on her teachers face. "Well my dear," said Mrs. Harper, "I know a perfect place were you can write all you want and not get on my nerves." Mary looked at her teacher with a confused expression. Then her teacher screamed, "Go to detention!!" a couple of people in the class laughed but Mary didn't dignify them with a response. Instead she gathered her belongings and stepped outside the class. She could hear Mrs. Harper trying to get her students to quiet down.

Mary silently laughed and went on to her locker and then to detention. The detention room was just a classroom with students being real quiet and an angry looking teacher at the front with his boots on the desk and reading the daily newspaper. Mary sat at her usual desk in the farthest corner and pulled out her notebook and started writing.

Aaron laid on the floor and instantly fell asleep. His black hair fell over his face and he balled up into a small ball to protect himself from the cold. While he slept he dreamt, he dreamt of a time when his family was happy and everything was good in his world. But all too soon his sweet dream warped into one of the blood covered faces of his family and the ear piercing sound of that single shot that took his mother from him. And all he could dream of was that of a far off reality were maybe one day he will see his family again. But those dreams were always interrupted by blood and gunshots. Now his world was cold and heartless. And he had to do anything to survive. His father had taught him that when the time came he would have to leave his childhood behind and become a man. Aaron knew what he had to do. He had to find the men that did this to him and kill them all. Though he didn't know how yet, he knew of only one person that could help him, his grandfather Rudolf Wengester.

Mary jumped at the sound of the bell that told them that school was finally over. She hadn't noticed time going by and now she was going to be late for her recital. She ran to the door and went directly to the drama room. Surprisingly the only person there was the student assistant Drew. He looked up from his paperwork and looked at Mary. "Oh, sorry but I guess you didn't hear the announcement. The main character has been injured so we'll have to cancel the show." Mary felt a wave of disappointment go through her. And without another word she turned and left the school building.

She would have to walk half an hour just to get to her house because she missed the bus. But Mary wasn't going straight home. Instead she was headed the opposite direction to her godmothers house. Her godmother Lucinda's house was beautiful, it was a 2 story white brick house with a beautiful gravel road leading up to it. The front of the house had about 8 windows facing the road with yellow shutters. And there was a pair of grand doors at the entrance. But Mary's favorite thing was the inside. It was elegant but not over the top. And it had spiral stairs to lead one up to the 2nd floor were Mary always had a room incase she stayed for the night.

Mary knocked on the door and heard the knock echo off the walls of the house. Less than a minute later her godmother was at the door with a huge smile on her wrinkled face. "Marybell! What a pleasant surprise! How are you? I've missed you." said her godmother while she gently hugged her. " I've been terrific godmother, I've been writing a lot about Aaron. And I've missed you too." Mary stepped into the house and was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of freshly baked cookies. "How many times have I told you to call me Lucinda, godmother makes me feel old. And I just got done baking, are you hungry?" Mary smiled but said no. Lucinda went over to her office and made Mary follow.

Lucinda was a retired writer and in Mary's opinion wrote the best stories. They were all about love and how circumstances appear so the couple is separated. She was the reason Mary wanted to become a writer. Lucinda held out her hand and Mary handed her the notebook with her stories. "it seems you've written more in it since last time." said her godmother while rummaging through the pages. Mary blushed, "Its just that sometimes images of Aaron pop up in my head and I have an urge to write it down. Its really fascinating, its almost as if my made-up character has a life of his own. Do you think that's weird?" Lucinda was staring at her so intently that she could of burnt a hole in Mary's forehead.

After a long awkward silence Mary's godmother finally spoke. "Are you for certain that Aaron is a figment of your imagination?" She could see that her question confused Mary so she clarified. "It's not something unusual for writers to write about their own forgotten experiences and claim it as someone else's. I'm just saying that you shouldn't become so attached to your characters." Mary looked up at the clock on her wall and practically ran from her seat. "I'm very sorry godmother, it's so late. And I really should be getting home. Good bye!" She bent down and kissed her godmothers forehead. All of a sudden her godmother graved Mary's arm and said, "Think of what I have said." Mary nodded and went towards the door. Lucinda sat there and saw Mary disappear behind the grand doors when she quietly whispered to herself, "She is truly condemned"

Mary walked into her house and noticed that it was all too quiet. Her family must have been out to her uncles house since she didn't show. She looked to her right and saw the living room sofas in a disarray and the TV on but with no volume. To her that seemed extremely weird. Her father had a habit of leaving at least one appliance on at full volume when ever they left their home. Ever since Mary's mom had died he was very overprotective of Mary and her little brother Peter. Mary did miss her mother very much but she feared that Peter maybe forgetting who she was.

She went over to the TV and turned it off. Suddenly she heard a crash come from her room down the hall. She pulled back the green curtains that lead into the hall and then opened the second door to her right that led to her room. She quickly but nervously opened the door and saw… nothing. Her bed was still clean and the windows next to it were closed. She went over to the closet which was right next to the door and saw that there was no one there. Then she caught a quick glimpse at herself in the mirror.

She turned on the lights and looked at herself in the mirror. She saw her light brown curly hair was still in perfect curls around her oval shaped fair skinned face. Her cheeks were an unhealthy pale color and her faded blue eyes were surrounded by bags from the countless nights from not getting a good sleep. Her lips were fairly dried and chapped from her not using chap stick in the morning. She wished she looked like her best friend Alana. Mary had known Alana since 3rd grade and have been friends ever since. Alana had long straight jet black hair and the most beautiful green colored eyes Mary had ever seen. Alana's family was old fashioned and they could trace their roots all the way to the French revolution. Mary wouldn't say that she was jealous of Alana, but she was. Alana was the popular girl at school that everybody liked and everybody wanted to hang around with. While Mary was the weird girl that always had a notebook with her so she could write her stories.

How Alana was still Mary's friend always amazed her. But she was happy that they were friends, Mary couldn't imagine not having Alana in her life. She was the one that helped her out during her mom's death and is the only one she can truly open up to. Then Mary remembered something, she promised to call Alana when she got home. Mary went over to the kitchen and picked up the phone that hung from the wall. She dialed Alana's phone number and waited for her to pick up. But when they finally did answer it wasn't Alana but another voice. This voice sent a shiver down Mary's spine and made her insides want to turn. But who could this be? "Hello, can I help you?" Mary took a deep breath and responded, "Is Alana there?" There was a long silence and all of a sudden Alana's voice came from the other end of the line. "Hello? Who is this?" Mary smiled to herself and finally said, "Hi Alana, its me Mary, what you doing?" Another long silence until finally Alana answered, "I'm sorry Mary but I'm going to have to call you later." Mary was confused, "That's ok, I guess ill se you tomorrow." But Alana had already hung up. Mary shrugged it off and went over to her bed were her notebook was lying. She opened it to the first page and noticed that there was nothing about Aarons childhood. So she got her pencil and started writing……

Aaron walked through the rose garden that his mother had planted so many years ago. He spend an unusual amount of time here and his older brother Alec always bullied him about it. But he enjoyed his time in the garden and he practically knew every inch of it. He himself had a small rose bush planted in the farthest corner of the garden, which he tended himself. His father was out fighting the war and Aaron missed him so much. But his mother had told him so many stories about how his father was helping their people win the war. Aaron didn't like to disagree with his mother but sadly this was something he could not agree with. In some deep corner of his mind he knew that they would lose and no one would be happy. But exactly the opposite. They would all blame each other for what a nation did together.

All Aaron wanted out of this was his father to come back home and to know that his family was safe. But who could ever be safe in the kind of world he lived in. It seemed that every day more and more of his friends were being send off to what they call a safe community were only vrykolakas would live. But Aaron was too afraid to go and so was his mother. When they were rounding up some of Aaron's classmates at the school, Aaron's mother told him to lie and say he was of Rugaru descend so he and his family could be spared. He knew that one day the true Rugaru would look at his records and see through the many lies that his family has told. In the very corners of his mind he began to hate all the Rugaru and they're people for inflicting so much pain to them and to his family. But he could never let those emotions take over him because he was at a stage were you're emotions can sometimes control your life and lead you down a road of darkness and despair. But he knew that at these times of war and hate, sometimes it was better to give to your animal instincts. No matter how far you may fall into the dark side.