Every day I wake up, every thing has healed. I am stuck here, forever. I want to die. But I cannot die. The same day, I live it over and over again in this loneliness. It is swallowing me whole. I am insane. Not becoming, I am. As Time passes by, the world is becoming more quiet and quiet. You would think that I would forget my past life, but I don't. Every day, I remember it more and more, as if every day the past imprints more and more in my brain. Just like the scars that I make on my wrist, on my body. But they disappear with every new rising of the sun.
Closing my eyes, I remember how once my mother loved me. She held me in my arms and she sang little lullabies in my ears. She whispered how I would be a strong, strong witch. She told me that I and my sister would be the king and queen of the coven.
I shattered her dreams, though. Hers and his. My sister showed her magical abilities very early. I did not. Nothing showed up. My mother became more worried. He too.
At first he was a doting father. However, his love disappeared, as time passed by and I disappointed him more and more. I had never showed my abilities. He decided to try out for more children. My position for king disappeared as I fell into the background. My little sisters and brothers were born. All the affection that I so longed for went to them and my twin sister. I was nothing.
One day, they told me to baby sit them. As their big brother I loved them dearly. Was I jealous? Not really. I just thought it was sad that they didn't love me. I never envied them. I cared for them. My love transcended every gap between us. They were mine, so I thought. I wouldn't dare to hurt them.
That day, they were gone for a coven meeting. They took my dear twin sister with them, while I played with my little siblings. We built a castle of the furniture. A tent of sort while they were the witches that guarded their fort. I was the monster that attacked them.
Something went wrong. The castle collapsed. My siblings were stuck. I quickly removed the chairs and the pillows and the sofa. My little brother hit his head and he bled. In my panic I took his arms and my intuition took over. I siphoned his magic subconsciously and his head wound healed. I was so grateful. He was okay! And I had magic.
I couldn't wait to tell my father and my mother. They would be elated. They would be proud.
But I had never be so wrong. If I knew what he would do, I would have kept it a secret. I would have buried it with me. I would have never told him.
I remember the first time how his eyes changed. Before he didn't care. I was just a child with no powers. I was just human.
"You are an abomination," he screeched, when he struck me for the first time. I remember my excitement, when I told him I was magical too, when I showed him. But he broke me. He broke every single bone in me. He hit me until I was just a mess of brokenness. He threw me out of the house and left me to die.
My little brother, my lovely brother, who looked up to me. He snuck out of the house to see how I was doing. He crawled into my arms. He told me, "I love you," with tears in his eyes. And I did the worst thing possible. I was dying. My magic knew. And he had magic. I siphoned his magic out of him. To heal myself. I couldn't stop it. I didn't even know I was doing it. I just wanted the pain to stop. Everything hurt so much. Siphoning magic recquires a lot of power. And I lost consciousness.
The next day, I woke up. With a cold body in my arms. It was my brother. My little brother. I was in shock. His eyes were open, but they were empty. I shook his body over and over again. He didn't move. He didn't wake up. I screamed. I cried. I called my mother. I called my father. I called everyone.
They ran towards me. He pulled me viciously out of the way. Laying out of the way, I saw how they cared for him. How he cared for him. How he cried for him. How he didn't care that I was left to die yesterday.
That was the last day I remember how I felt something. The switch in me turned off. Just a vampire, my humanity was dead.
Fin.