Ryan POV

Only a year old, and yet I look like a three year old. I act like a five year old. Grandpa Aro says this is normal, how special little girls like me normally age.

My Grandpa Aro is constantly measuring and weighing me. He buys me tons of presents to make up for it though : sparkly jewelery, pretty dresses, and my favorite, blood.

Clutching my beloved stuffed animal, Jerry the Puppy, to my chest, I walk across the throne room with much more grace than is normal for kids my age. Not seeing anyone around, I begin to wail. Immediately, I am surrounded by a cluster of beautiful white faces and odd red eyes.

"Ryan, sweetie, whats wrong?" My Mommy scoops me up in her frigid arms.

"Thirsty!" I cry, pointing to my scratchy throat. Out of nowhere, my favorite playmate Jane pops in with my cup in her hand. I grab it, throwing a sweet smile in Jane's direction, sucking eagerly.

Everyone stares at the cup in my hands where the delicious crimson liquid is sloshing around, hunger evident in their eyes. I shyly bury myself in Mommy's soft dark brown hair while still trying to slurp up the blood.

"Relax, my children. The tourists will be here today!" Grandpa Aro's cheery voice echoes through the still room. I sigh internally. I don't know what he is talking about, but every time he mentions tourists, Mommy and Daddy make me go play with my dolls upstairs in the attic, the farthest room from the throne room.

Just as predicted, Mom and Dad threw me up here with my life-size Barbie house and left in a hurry. I begin brushing my favorite doll's hair, braiding it like Aunt Chelsea braids my hair. I come up with a tangled mess of blonde hair.

I sigh, trying to get the big knot out. Why can't I know what is going on? I'm maturing fast. I may look young, but I'm just trapped inside a child's body. Look into my eyes and you'll see how old and mature I really am.

Getting fed up with this dull solitary, I chuck my Barbie across the room. She smashes into the wall, leaving a small hole in the wood. I angrily stalk over to the door and try to open it. Locked, of course. Mustering up all the strength in this tiny body, I wrench open the door, breaking the lock.

I begin running as fast as these tiny, stubby little legs will carry me, which is nothing compared to how fast I've seen Mommy and Daddy go.

As I get a few floors down, I start to hear it. Blood-curdling screams resonating from the throne room. Fearing for my family, I try to pick up the pace.

I round the turn into the throne room at full force, but stop once I get about five feet into it. There are tons of people here, humans. My family is made up of only vampires, so I've never really seen a human this close.

But then, I realize what is going on. My family is tearing into the human's flesh. I watch petrified as my dear, sweet Grandma Sulpicia dives her teeth into the throat of a young boy, and my charming Uncle Afton attacks a pretty woman.

I back against the nearest wall, ready to fall over in shock. I begin hyperventilating as the bright red eyes of everyone around me blurs into one big red blob taking over my vision.

I am brought back to reality as a dark-featured woman with a death-grip around the cross necklace wrapped around her wrist begins screaming at me, "Demon! Demon! Spawn of Satan himself! Demon child! Burn in hell!" She suddenly flips out a lighter from her over-sized purse and prepares to throw it at me. My whole body freezes up in fear.

Out of literally no where, a pale body appears in front of me. I watch as Alec pulls his fist back and punches the lady. She falls to the floor with a crack, and blood pools around her.

Alec turns and grabs me in one fluid motion, hauling me back out the door. He doesn't stop running until we are back safely in the attic.

Alec sits down on the ground with me still in his arms, my small fingers wrapped in his silky black hair as I sob. My tears stain his black cloak.

"Ryan, calm down. Its okay, you're okay." Alec's velvety voice whispers in my ear as he runs his hands through my waist-length hair.

"W-what was that?" I sniffle. I don't think I'll ever be able to get those horrible images out of my head.

"Your parents wanted to wait til you are older to learn this, but I guess that option doesn't really exist anymore. You know how you drink blood from bags? Well, there aren't enough of those for all of us. So to quench our thirst like you do, we have to get the blood from the humans." He explains.

"You kill them?" I squeak meekly. I've always be fascinated by humans, how different and weaker they are than my family. I never knew they are our food supply.

"We have to, you know how badly it hurts when we get thirsty." His voice is a soothing murmur.

"I'll eat peanut butter and jellies for the rest of my life and you guys can have all the bags of blood! Then we don't have to kill them!" I grin as the idea pops into my head. It really isn't a solution since I'll still get thirsty, but I hate the idea of taking innocent lives.

"That just won't work. There are more vampires out there, Ryan, and they all do the same. Its part of our nature, and it'll become part of yours when you get older." His voice sends a shudder through my body.

"Isn't there another way?" There is a pleading edge in my voice, as if I am begging him personally to create a new way to live. He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it again, deliberating.

"No, humans are the only way to satisfy vampires." He says firmly.

"How old will I be when I start drinking from the humans?" I ask inquisitively.

"I think your Mom and Dad were going to wait til you are five years old.. Well, have been alive for five years. Judging by how you've been growing, you'll be around fourteen physically by then, and have the mind of an adult." He smiles a beautiful, pearly-white smile. For a moment, I had expected to see chunks of human skin or bits of blood in his teeth. But there is nothing, and it is a little disappointing.

"Am I really the spawn of Satan?" I whisper as the woman's words echo through my ears. "Demon! Demon! Spawn of Satan himself! Demon child! Burn in Hell!"

"Of course not. You're a sweet, beautiful little girl that shouldn't be worrying about things like that yet. Wait til you're older." He winks at me and I giggle. I'm sure many parents and family members have told children, especially girls, something similar to that for dozens of different reasons, but I'm pretty positive none of ever had a conversation quite like that one.