September 16th,

No, I'm not lazy at keeping entries. It's just that there's nothing to say. They feed me twice a day; once in the morning, and once in the evening. To them, it seems sufficient. To me… well, it's adequate. It's not like I was ever a pig for food, anyway (keeping the "stick legs" picture in mind?) And the food isn't bad, either. Sometimes, in my boredom, I amuse myself by trying to guess where each part of my meal came from. Grapes? Definitely Italian. Garlic bread? Well, it certainly didn't come from America, where everything really good is just copied from another country…

Wine? (And yes, I drink wine now and then. My mother had a particular affinity for it on holidays.) Ah, now this has to be French! The flavor is exquisite. Although I do wish they'd give me white instead of dark red. It looks too much like… well, you know. Maybe I can ask Heidi about it or Renata. They're the only ones least likely to laugh at my human "weaknesses."

You're bored already, aren't you? So am I. But I wasn't joking when I said there isn't anything to say. Twice a day (same as meals), Heidi escorts me to the restroom, waiting outside the door. If I want something washed, I tell her, and she brings it back to me hours later, cleaned and nicely-pressed. If I'm really lucky, Renata takes me on a "tour" or stays in my room to talk to me.

Oh, yes. Someone guards my door when I sleep at night. No one told me this, but I'm not stupid. It's amusing to think of a human attempting to escape this hell-hole, but vampires will be vampires! Notice how easily I say that word? Here, I'll say it again. Vampires. Vampires vampires vampires vampires vampires. Code for "I live in hell, so I must make sure everyone else does, too."

I shouldn't be so censorious. They have helped me, in a way. They've shown me how to truly hate, for the first time in my life.

September 19th,

My college year started today. Freshman, first-semester term. I was enrolled in math, English, world history, Psychology I, physics, and a beginner's course in art. I was to have three other roommates, one being a girl I knew from high school; a kind, strong person, who had a similar appreciation of art.

I smile a little. I'm not in college. I'm not even in America. I am still a senior graduate, and the money I saved is still there, stacked up in the bank. I'm not enrolled in any classes, except those of self-survival, optimism, and the constant struggle to stay sane. I have no companions, except the undead who waft in occasionally to visit me. I am in a dark, bizarre fairytale, and I will most likely not write the ending myself. Will you do it for me, reader? Will you be there?

September 20th,

Renata came to see me… finally. I nearly cried, I was so happy to see her. I think she liked it, for she smiled when I hugged her. Vampires are not comfortable to touch—their skin is hard, and their teeth are more than a little unnerving—but I didn't care. I had to bend slightly, smelling her natural perfume as I held her.

"Are you alright, Aster?" she asked. I remember her looking at me anxiously.

"I'm fine," I laughed. "I'm just fine."

"You don't look it. Your face is—"

"Don't," I interrupted. "Please, Renata."

She looked at the door. "Where's the mirror? I could have sworn—"

"I broke it." She looked at me quizzically, and I smiled. "I broke it on purpose. I don't want a replacement. I don't want to know what I look like."

Renata turned away. She seemed disturbed, which was unusual. "True," I thought I heard her mutter. "It will only get worse."

"Are you going somewhere?" I forced myself to say.

Her childish face lit up. "Yes, as a matter of fact. It's a surprise."

"Awesome!"

We held hands, giggling, and she pulled me out the door. I felt so easy, so natural; as if any cares or worries had slipped from my shoulders. We were like children, promised something new and exciting for Christmas. It was ridiculous, but who cared?

"Here," she said quickly. She yanked me lower, so as not to bang my head, and I saw we were in front of a tunnel. It was wide, but dimly-lit, and I cringed at going inside it.

"Well, go on!" she urged me.

"Is this really necessary?"

"We can go back, if you wish."

"No thanks." I could hardly stand the sight of my room now. Carefully, with both hands reaching out, I pulled myself into the tunnel. It was surprisingly cool, and not wet or slimy, as I had supposed. I realized the light didn't come from the torch Renata was holding, but from a small opening far ahead. I turned around, staring at her. "Should I climb?"

"Yes, until you reach the top." She had a sly grin on her face.

I shuffled up the opening, glad I didn't inherit my mother's fear of tight spaces. "You can never have too many blankets on the bed," my father would laugh. "Or your mom will go nuts." The tunnel seemed to shrink, and I paused, taking a deep breath. Speaking of claustrophobia.

"Keep going!" Renata called cheerfully.

Surprisingly, there seemed to be a great deal of air blowing in my face. But how could it come from the opening? Unless… the light was natural…?

I suddenly couldn't crawl fast enough. I skittered up the tunnel, feeling like some weird beetle, gulping in huge breaths of air. After about five minutes, the opening blazed into my face, blinding me. I squinted, reaching outward. My hands clenched around two iron sides, and I pulled myself up slowly. I was standing on a roof.

Of course, "standing" was an overstatement. The sun still blinded me, and the ground was incredibly unstable. Ancient tiles cracked under my feet, skittering off the edge to the streets below. But by God, I was outside. For now, I was free.

A tear stained my face, quickly scorched. For nearly three weeks, I had been shut up like a prisoner. I probably looked like hell. But the air… oh, God, the air! I had come to Italy hating the stench, hating the heat, and now I couldn't fathom anything sweeter. Birds clustered several feet away, perching on what looked like gargoyles. Their grimacing faces were a striking contrast to my mood. I thought of moving towards them, to get a closer look, but the roof was so old. Not to mention sloped in all directions. One false step could send me to my death.

I stood there, who knows how long, just… well, just breathing, I guess. Feeling the sun on my face. It was refreshing to hear the babble of voices far below, although only the sparrows knew I was up there. After at least an hour, I took one last look around me, then squeezed back into the hole. I thought at first I would just slide to the bottom, but the sides weren't as slippery as all that. I edged my way back down, using my feet as well as my hands, and dropped to the floor lightly. It took me a moment to find Renata. Then I saw her. She was standing against the wall, her black cloak one with the darkness, and she still clenched the torch in her hand.

She looked up as I approached. Her eyes were wide, like a frightened child.

"Renata?" I asked, puzzled.

She came toward me, holding up the torch. She scanned my face, her eyes narrowing, then took a soft breath as she stepped away. "You came back," she whispered.

"Yes. What's wrong?"

"Why?" she demanded suddenly. "Why did you come back?"

My smile disappeared. "Where else was there to go?"

"Oh, Aster." Her tone was miserable. "Don't you see? Don't you understand?"

"Don't I understand what?"

"The tunnel!" She grabbed my shoulder, looking up at me. "Your escape! Why didn't you do it?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Escape?" I repeated.

"Why do you think I showed you? For amusement? I wasn't expecting you back, although I waited, anyway."

Shock made me angry. "How could I possibly get away?" I snapped. "The roof... the tiles were too old. I would have broken my neck just to get dow—"

"Couldn't you have called out?" she demanded. "Was there no one in the streets? You may not know Italian, but a cry for help is not hard to discern." She looked at my face, white and silent, and hung her head. "I'm sorry," she said, sighing. "I thought—I truly thought I was doing you a service. You seemed so unhappy here."

I couldn't even speak, for a moment. "What about your master, Renata?" I whispered. "Wouldn't he punish you? Kill you, even?"

"I love my master," she said simply. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for him. He values me just as much. He would punish me, yes. But nothing more." She frowned bitterly. "You would not be a great loss to him, I'm sure. There are always others."

"Do you want me to try again?"

She looked at me. She was a woman again, not a child. "No. It is too late."

Scarcely had she said this than footsteps echoed down the hallway. I flinched away from the opening instinctively, and Renata took my hand.

"Hello, ladies," boomed Felix's voice. "Fancy seeing you here!"

He peered around the corner, grinning like a Halloween mask. His shoulders were monstrous in the shadows. "Get lost?" he asked, looking at me.

Renata stepped in front of me. "What do you want?" she demanded.

He laughed. "Aro's favorite," he whispered mockingly. "Does that make you my master as well?"

"Shut your mouth and answer my question. Does Aro want her?"

I'd never heard her tone so venomous. Felix started a little but recovered quickly. "I wouldn't know, really, but Heidi is distressed to find her charge missing." He winked at me. "And especially here, of all places."

"What I do is none of your business," Renata hissed. "Now get out of our way."

The huge vampire acquiesced, but not without giving me a hard pinch on my arm. I bit my lip, eager that Renata shouldn't see. Although she seemed to float down the hallway, I had to half-run to keep up. We found Heidi waiting for us.

"Renata!" she gasped in relief. Then her anger rose up. "What do you mean by taking her?"

"She's back now, Heidi. That is all you should be concerned about."

Heidi took my arm, glowering back at Renata. "Alright, then. But remember that not all of us are in Aro's good graces. Some of us can't afford to make mistakes."

Renata smiled a little, almost absently. "Of course." Then she was gone, without paying any further attention to me. Felix followed suit, thankfully, not giving me another glance.

I pulled away from Heidi the minute we entered the room. "Lay off, will you?" I snapped. "I've been jostled about enough for one evening."

"It's still late afternoon," she replied testily. "And what do you mean by 'jostled about?'"

I slumped down on my bed. "Forget it."

Heidi slammed the door behind her, muttering angrily under her breath. My stomach growled, but there would be no dinner for at least an hour. An hour to think, write in my diary, and curse myself.