AN - So, thanks for all the alerts etc that everyone's been so good to give me! I got over 10 reviews, and I really wasn't expecting that! I'm hoping to update every weekend, but I'm not too sure if I'll be able to. I love you all anyway, thanks for the kind words. I'm going to put some songs I listened to while writing this chapter, so here you go!
Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen, Supermassive Black Hole - Muse, Everything I Do (I Do It For You) - Bryan Adams. They may not fit with the story, but they gave me help in writing. You should listen to Queen after the xXx!
Do you all think I own this? Seriously? Gimme a break! I wish I did, because then I'd own Jasper!!
1864
One year and three days. One year and four days.
Time passed, slowly but surely. I could tell it was passing, the Yankees had come and taken over the city and won the Civil War. But with that, my last vestiges of hope faded. If Jasper was alive, he would be home now. The Yankees had let everyone go home, and I had thought that Jasper might have been amongst the men returning home. But he wasn't, and he never would be.
There was an ache in the centre of my chest, and it never seemed to go away. I knew what would make it go away, Jasper would. But Jasper was never going to come back to me. Mother and Father had despaired of me, believing that I would be better suited to living in a convent, that my heart had been too broken for me to love again. And a daughter who couldn't be married was a daughter who shouldn't be there. They believed this so thoroughly, that I was going into one in a week. That's what I was doing out shopping, buying black fabric to make my habit before I moved into St. Margaret's.
The sun wasn't shining today, for once the weather matched my mood, unlike so often in the sunny town I called my home. It was cloudy, and it looked like a hurricane was coming in. Perfect.
Walking down the street, I stopped at the drapery.
"Mizz Swan, what can I getcha?" Mr. Anderson was behind the counter in his small shop. Behind him, there were many bolts of cloth, patterned and plain, from the darkest black to the lightest white, with every color in between.
"Mr. Anderson, can I get five yards of the thick black cotton, one yard of white cotton, and twelve black buttons?" I asked politely.
"Mizz Swan, you goin' inter a nunnery or somethin' like that there? Why else would you need all that black cloth?" He asked, then paused. "Oh, it's Mr. Whitlock's memorial mass in a week, isn't it? I'm sorry, I should have remembered."
"Don't worry Mr. Anderson, and to answer your question, I am going into a nunnery. It's far better than what I'd be doing moping around here. After Jasper's mass, I'm going directly to the convent for admittance,"
"Well then, Mizz Swan, good luck to you. I hope that it works out for you child."
"Thank you so much," Mr. Anderson turned around to the bolts of cloth, and carefully measured out the correct amount, then added on another yard of the black.
"You deserve something nice for a change, life's bin rough on you,"
My eyes welled up with the unexpected kindness. I was unused to people being nice, and actually caring about what I wanted. The only person who had ever done that was Jasper.
"Thank you, most people treat me like the plague Mr. Anderson, you're being kind to me, unlike so many others. It probably doesn't seem like much to you, but to me it means an awful lot,"
"Child, this town is caught in the past. Years ago people believed that the widow of a man killed in battle would kill any man, but I know that you are NOT that kind of person, you have a good heart, and you can do so much. Now, here's your cloth, git on out of here now, before I chase you out with a broom!" Mr. Anderson smiled at me, and I looked back and gave him a tentative smile before walking out of the shop.
On the street, people gave me a smile, but quickly looked away from me. I never liked the attention, but Jasper was the first person from the town to be killed in the war, and as his fiancée, I was the girl who got all the attention. Much to my dismay.
I turned the corner into an alleyway, and at the end was a face I would never forget. It was Jasper. His hair was blonder than before, it looked like the honey Father would have on toast. Jasper's skin was so pale, it totally betrayed his Spanish heritage.
"Jasper!"
"Isabella, run away from me. Go, now! If you don't, you'll be hurt. Please, querida, go and get away from here!"
"No, if you're not going, I'm not. You can't let me go,"
"Bella, do you want to become what I am? Do you?"
"What are you Jasper? Why is your skin so pale, why is your hair different?"
"I'm not human any more. Leave, please. I don't want you to get hurt,"
"No, I'm not leaving,"
"HUMAN!"
I heard a snarling sound, and my hand hurt, it felt like something was draining my blood. All of a sudden, it stopped, but then the burning began.
"Jasper," I whispered, and then screamed.
xXx
"Isabella, can you hear me, sweetheart? Please, baby, open your eyes. Honey, I need you to wake up, it's so important. Please, baby, please, wake up."
I heard mother's voice calling me from beyond the burning. It had all but gone, the fire was out everywhere except the centre of my chest. But even there, it was easing. I took in a breath, and I tasted the most delicious food I had ever tasted in the world. I sniffed, and realised that it was coming straight from my mother's chest. I wanted it so badly, more than anything I had ever wanted before.
Suddenly, the pain in my chest went out, and I was thirsty, so thirsty. Whatever that delicious smell that was coming from Mother was, I had to have it. It was the only thing that would quench my seemingly insatiable thirst. Before I knew what I was doing, I pounced on her. My teeth sank neatly into her neck, and I severed the vein there. Her hot, salty blood tasted so good, I drank it all down my throat. I didn't realise what I was doing, and before I let go of her neck, she was dead.
I let her go, her blood was gone, and then I realised what I had done. I had killed my mother by sucking her blood. I was a murderer, no better than the ones who were hung every few months down the street. I stepped up, gathered my skirts and ran. I couldn't stay in the house any more, I would just kill whomever I came into contact with. I said my final goodbye, and walked out into the sunlight behind our home.
