The Truth About Jane: behind the eyes
The excitement was exhilarating. I had never run this fast before. It felt surprisingly good; I wasn't even out of breath. I had acquired a new grace, no matter how rough the terrain I did not trip. The adrenaline almost blocked out the pain; but sadly, nothing is that powerful.
If anything, the run just made it worse. It was just time to think it over, every wound that had cut into me. The fire and ice searing and stabbing its way deep into my heart and mind; deeper than I would have ever thought possible. All I could think of was the first goal. You see, I had developed a trio of goals: 1. kill the Evil One, 2. find the Volturi, and 3. become one of the most feared vampires in the world.
Accomplishing the first goal was only a days run away, as estimation. I think back on that first run now and often wonder, was I not scared at all? Vampires were more feared than witches where I came from. Yet, I had accepted that I had become one without much difficulty. I did not go through denial, I didn't go through amazement, and I never questioned the reality of it. I knew it wasn't a dream; I'm not that creative. Was the pain really so deep that I didn't even question it? Becoming a vampire was like seeing my pain. Perhaps my subconscious had expected something like this. After all, I was never a hopeful girl. I hadn't ever really pictured myself in heaven, even in the last few minutes of human life I had. Not even with the nuce around my neck had I really come to terms with the idea of death.
To never have another breath, to never think another thought, to never love or hurt again. Maybe, I knew all along I wouldn't die; in the physical sense at least. Just maybe my subconscious had prepared me for it. I was able to cast aside my shock at becoming a vampire so easily, too easily some might say. I was determined to kill.
Killing in not the answer; I've heard that said so many times. But if it isn't, then what is? Tell me what the answer is exactly, for someone like me. An accused twin witch who became a vampire after her best friend's betrayal, and at only thirteen. Tell me if you know what the answer is?
So I sought to kill. Revenge was all I could think about, and the single most important thing in that moment. I was driving myself mad, hysterically dry sobbing and laughing…and running. First I would torture him, then I would tell him who I was, then I would kill him. Then I would leave. I would become a beautiful and horrible nightmare. I would leave his bloody corpse exactly where I found it, I would write in his blood; "Love, Jane Martin", and then I would leave. Later Abby and Betty would hear of my sign, and shudder in fear. But the need not worry about me killing them. No I would much rather them live, and fear me their entire lives. I love them more than anything, but I hate them too.
I glanced at Alec for a split second seeing the world through his eyes. Dying, then becoming a vampire, then having his sister become a maniac and run away with her only words being 'follow me'. I knew he was suffering too.
Poor Alec; I feel so selfish every time I think of that night. If I could only have let him know how much I truly loved him. He didn't understand my transformation; if only I could have assured him it was for the better. If only that wouldn't have been a lie. My dear brother, caught in the same trap as I, yet I complain. He takes it all in, he grins a bears it. He is so strong, and he is my role model. I wish everyday that he could have been spared. He didn't deserve this fate; he is much too good for this.
When I started recognizing the landscape I stopped. I started walking towards the town. I would finally get my revenge, and it would be sweet. I was only thirteen, yet the details are as sharp as a knife. I remember my walk towards The Evil One. I remember my laugh and the ecstasy of his blood in my mouth. I remember writing the words for everyone to see. I couldn't leave, but I couldn't stay. I allowed myself one more visit. Full of blood and with all the strength I could manage as a newborn, I walked to Abby and Betty's, where I gladly found them asleep in bed. I woke them gently and smiled my horrible smile. They were too shocked to scream. I must have been lovely to them for Abby came and touched me, but I knew my presence was horrifying. I welcomed the mixed emotions in that room. I looked them both in the eyes and sang to them the song we had often sung together,"look at me darling, aren't I so beautiful. Come to me softly and kiss me farewell."
I enchanted them with my song. Then I smiled; they screamed at the blood on my teeth and I left. I vowed then that I would never return to Salem. A vow I do not intend to break. More later.