Sorry for the delay! I've been busy, busy, busy! I'm not sure if I can get one in tomorrow and for sure not Friday I'll be at a church retreat and unable to get to the internet. Please review, review, review!

Chapter 8

She awakes in a meadow. A meadow full of wild flowers, tall grasses, and a bubbling brook, surrounded by towering trees; mostly pine, and the sky is full of puffy clouds. There's also Haydn sitting on a blanket by a picnic basket.

She knows this place, she and her parents had come here, to this meadow in the middle of the woods right behind her childhood home, for picnics practically every week. She almost expects a five year old version of herself to come skipping out of the woods, braids swinging, a gaped toothed smile plastered on her face, teddy bear glued in arms, and parents right behind, laughing with picnic gear in hands.

She wanders over to Haydn; completely forgetting who he is and what he has done, and sits down on the same red and white checkered blanket she and her family had used. Marisia spots her old teddy bear propped against the dark brown picnic basket and clutches it in her arms, hugging it tight.

"How did you know about this place?" She whispers in awe looking around.

"I got it from your mind," He says matter- oh –factly lounging back to bask in the sun's cheerful glow. "Where are we at Marisia?" He asks more gently after looking at her face.

"A place I never thought I would see again," She says softly, whishing her parents could magically appear out of the trees. "A place full of memories. Why did you bring me here?" She asks quietly. He gazes down at her.

"To take you some where you can't run, somewhere safe. To show you your memories."

"Memories? Why my memories? What could be so important for me to remember?"

"Not memories of now, of this life. Memories from your past, your past lives." He reaches over her into the basket and pulls out a sandwich.

"Past lives? You're still trying to get me to believe that crap?"

"Yes, actually, I am. Because it's true." He snaps his fingers and suddenly they're standing in a field. In the direct center of the field is a little one story picturesque cottage made of gray stone looking right out of a fairy tale with a thatched roof, a stone chimney cheerfully puffing out smoke, and little cobblestone path leading to a cobblestone court yard surrounded by a garden which is filled with beautiful flowers, whose fragrance fills the air. It's a clear night and the sky is filled with stars and the moon is full. She can hear the insect's nightly concert in the dark woods behind her.

"Where are we?" Marisia exclaims, looking around in wonder. Haydn looks at her steadily.

"It is your memory. Why don't you tell me?"

"How are you doing this?" Marisia whispers.

"I'm an illusionist. It is very rare power; most don't even know it exists unless they have it. I'd say less than one in two thousand has it, and even less know."

"But how? What exactly are you doing?"

"I can make you see things that are not there, feel things you cannot feel, do things you would never do, take you places you have never been or at least don't remember being. I can see into your mind, your inner wants, your desires, your secrets, your memories, I can infiltrate your dreams even speak to you with my mind," He gazes at her, a scary look in his eyes. "I can force you to do what I wish. I can do all these things, and you would never know, you would think it was real, that you were in control, when in reality I am." She takes a step back from him.

"You've done this before? When?" Marisia demands angrily. "Did you make me feel those things? Was I even really kidnapped? Did you even save me? Have all those times you've followed me been a trick?" He lets out an exasperated sigh, and rolls his eyes up to the dark sky, as if asking God why he is stuck with such an idiot.

"I never said I've done this before to you. Were you not listening at all? You know that your feelings are true, deep down you know. The only time I've used my powers on you is today, but that is only because you were being so unreasonable." Marisa struggles with herself. She wants to believe him, but how can she know if he's telling the truth? A thought dawns on her.

"You made me think it was raining that day didn't you? It was just an excuse to talk to me! I knew my roommates would never make me walk home in the rain!" He looks surprised for an instant.

"Oh that? I just wanted to talk to you, since every time I attempted that you tried to kill me," He gives her a wry look. "There was no rain, you slipped on nothing, and actually there were people all around you. Are you really going to get upset at me about that? "

"You! I—Well—uhh-ugh!" Marisia stomps her foot in frustration, it was childish she knew, but he was just so irritating! It was completely ridiculous for her to get upset about something as trivial as that, and he knows it. Haydn just looks down at her with a triumphant smirk and a laughing gleam in his eyes, his black hair tousled in the wind. She tears her eyes away from him. He was the most annoying person she had ever met! Why can't she just kill him already? Because it's too late, you care about him. An annoying voice taunts in her head.

"Fine, whatever, can we get on with this already?" He turns away, and she knows he is repressing a laugh.

"I don't know it's your memory why don't you tell me?" If he said that one more time!

"How am I supposed to know? Since I obviously don't remember this supposed memory!" Suddenly a girl walks out of the quaint cottage and not just a girl, her. It was really her, she looks the same, except for the dress which was (shudder) pink, ridiculously long, and is so puffy, frilly, and stiff, she wonders how she moves. Her hair is in some intricate curling design. And wouldn't you know it, Haydn is walking beside her looking practically the same, a dangerous gleam in his emerald eyes, tousled hair blending in with the night sky, wearing a blue suit and boots straight out of a movie that would take place several hundred years ago. She turns to look at the present Haydn, and sees him observing her apprehensively.

"What the heck!" She exclaims. "How is this possible, where are we?"

"I remember this night," Haydn says softly staring at their past selves. "I was a guest in your uncle's home; it was the night before you died the first time."

"Did I know you were a vampire? Were you a vampire?" She asks as she watches the past her and Haydn walking through the garden, holding hands laughing and talking. She sees the other her actually giggle as Haydn picks a pink rose and hands it to her with a flourish as he bows. Haydn laughs quietly.

"Yes I had been a vampire for many years then, and no you didn't know. You and your uncle were naïve, amateurs. You had no clue what you were dealing with."

"My uncle? I had an uncle then? What did we do?" He turns away from the happy couple in the garden and back towards Marisia, gazing at her, his eyes soft.

"Your uncle hid you when your parents were killed; he witnessed it as you and he were hidden within a cupboard. He was much younger than his sister your mother, only sixteen, but he took you in, raised you like his own daughter, never married. He had plenty of money, but he moved you here to the middle of nowhere to be inconspicuous, just in case whoever killed your parents was still after you," He pauses a far-off look in his eyes.

"There were several other attacks and murders in this village, and he gathered the victim's family members to train together and fight the creatures who killed their families, "He gives a small smile. "Actually your uncle cofounded the original little school you grew up at."

"How did you know all that? I was really that stupid and poured out my life's story to you?" Marisia says disgusted at her past self's stupidity.

"No one had ever tried to fight us before, there was no one to teach you what to do, how to look out for one of us, our weaknesses. Besides your uncle didn't even allow you to fight, said it wasn't proper for a young lady."

"And I actually listened to him!?" Marisia really wants to walk over to this deceased version of her and slap it in the face. Haydn gives that small smile again.

"He thought you did, but you always snuck into their meetings, practiced fighting, and even killed a few vampires yourself." That makes her respect her past self a bit more.

"If this is real, why can't I remember any of it?" She is still skeptical, still not willing to believe. He turns around to face her, his face so serious it was almost comical.

"It's because you are blocking it, resisting, you won't let it in. You don't want to believe in what you know is true. You have to let go Marisia, just let go and you'll remember it all."

"Yeah, uh huh and how am I supposed to do that?" She crosses her arms and glares up at him.

"Just sit down, empty your mind, relax, and let go." Marisia sighs and sits down on the soft, damp grass. How am I supposed to empty my mind? She thinks irritated. He's nuts. But she does as he said, relaxes, empties her mind of all thoughts and let's go. It was if she had been holding a door shut against a raging river and now that it was free, it was determined to stay that way and destroy everything in its path.

She clutches her head between her hands and gasps, rocking back and forth as a flood of images, thoughts, and emotions stream through her head at a blinding speed. She feels Haydn's strong arms embrace her, and hears his soft voice murmuring comforting words but it's in the background, like music played so low that it's barely perceptible.

It's as if she is watching a movie played in fast forward only she's the star, in a biography of several lives. There are images of her in apparently different lives, wearing dresses in dozens of styles and hundreds of colors, watching the scene change from the little cottage, to village, to small town, to bustling city, which appeared to be New York several decades past, and they are all rushing by at a dizzying pace.

There is also Haydn, and each time he appears she can feel what she felt then, she had cared about him, she had loved him, several times she even realized what he was and she still cared. She saw her parents, the same loving faces; and always she saw them die, over and over, and she was never older than seven. She saw her old hopes, loves, and dreams. She saw herself kill more vampires then she could ever dream of killing. With each life that passed her skills improved.

Marisia sees herself dying, too many times to count, but for some reason it is always blurry here, she never quite sees how it happened like missing puzzle pieces, it doesn't fit together, there's gaps. And finally memories from this life, her screwed up childhood, her encounters with Haydn.

Abruptly the flood recedes and she rushes back, gasping for breath. Oh God, it was true it was all true, she can never imagine something that clearly, no one could make her see and feel something in such vivid detail. She feels dizzy and lightheaded and wonders if she might faint, something she had never done before, pass out from a punch yes, but never faint. It is too overwhelming, everything she has seen, has relived, it's just too much.

"Hey, it's alright Marisia, you're okay. What did you see?" Haydn asks gently, his arms tight around her, but she is too out of it to notice or care. She'd been reincarnated, dozens of times, and in each one she died before she turned seventeen and was orphaned by seven.

"It's too much," She says barely able to get the words out. She can't breathe! "I can't take it, get me out of here! I can't breathe!" He looks down at her his face full of concern.

"Hey it's okay, we can leave. Just relax, I've got you. You'll be okay, just close your eyes." Marisia complies, desperate for air, desperate to end this. As she shuts her eyes, the same dizziness hits her as before, but this time she welcomes it. She sighs with relief and relaxes into Haydn's arms as the world spins and she can finally sleep.