Hello again, my lovelies!
Such a HUGE thank you to those who are still with me and reading, even if you don't review. For those of you who have, I love hearing from you and how the story has affected you. I didn't want to post the rest of it so soon, as it is kind of a heavy story and I wanted to give you some time... but I am actually just borrowing the laptop I'm working on and will have to give it back soon. I didn't want to leave you with an unfinished story for who knows how long.
Enjoy. xoxo Petals
"We all live; we all die
That does not begin to justify you."
October 24th,
My regularity in this journal astonishes me. I've seldom been regular at anything. I'm like my mom in that respect. She was always changing her mind, flitting from one thing to another. It used to drive my dad bananas. "For gosh sakes, Michelle!" he'd say. "I like it just the way it is! Take a breather!"
Before he married my mother, my dad had a cigarette addiction. He tried to hide it from her as best he could, but she found out, anyway. "We'll work on it," she told him. "It's you I'm marrying, not an addiction. You're what I care about."
It took him two years. By the time I was born, he was virtually "smoke-free." I never saw him smoke, and neither did my mother. "The only thing I want you addicted to is good literature," he used to joke, hugging me. "It's because of you and your mother I stopped, so don't get any ideas about leaving me."
That was ten years ago. We never did leave you, Daddy. But now that I'm alone—now that you've left me—I don't know how to live anymore.
October 25th,
Renata came to see me today. She stayed all day, from morning until Heidi brought my last meal. I wanted to ask her about Aro, but I've learned not to. I caught her looking at my throat once or twice, but she kept silent, too. I remember what Marcus said: "Bravery is knowing the truth… looking it in the face, no matter how awful, and standing your ground."
I want to believe him, but it's hard. If Renata spoke it, she'd be lying, for the poor thing can't bear to tell me what she knows. So we talk about anything else, and I stifle my questions. Truth or not, Marcus, it's just too "awful" to face sometimes.
Later…
What an appalling ending to the day. If Marcus were to ask for my blood, I would willingly give it, knowing his true self (the very fact he doesn't is prove of that). His brother asks, however, and his brother receives. It's inevitable. I can only watch myself through his poisonous stare, letting him take…and take… and take…
He didn't awaken me this time, nor did he give me much warning. I had bent over, tugging the coverlet over my bed, when his arms jerked me upright, locking me against his chest.
"'Sigh, no more, ladies, sigh no more,'" he sang in my ear. He twisted me around, playing with my writhing body. He kept singing. "'Men were deceivers ever…'"
"What do you want?" I snapped. My nails barely missed his face.
"Shh… easy does it." He giggled merrily, like a child presented with sweets. "A pounding heart will do little to ease my thirst."
"Thirst?" I stared, horrified. "No. No, no, no…"
"God, her stubbornness arouses me," he whispered. He released me abruptly. "Go on, Aster. Strike me."
This had to be a trick. "Get out of my room."
"It isn't your room, love. You're here as my guest. Strike me."
I backed away, unnerved by his glittering eyes. My fingers curved 'round the bedpost. It was a brace for my body, weakened as it was by fear and torture.
A smile lit Aro's face. "I know! Let's play a game, shall we?"
The suggestion reminded me of the first day I'd come here, only he'd spoken to my uncle, not to me. I took a breath, feeling slightly sick. "You play. I'll lose."
He smiled. "I am sure I can make you strike me. I mean to enjoy myself, Aster, whether you will or not. Perhaps if I raised your ire?"
"Excuse me?"
"Anger, my sweet ignorant. If I made you angry…?"
I laughed, then coughed. "You've done all you can do to me, Aro. I haven't the energy to fight."
"You fought like a cat just now."
I turned away. "Just leave me alone."
A ticking sound echoed behind me. It sounded like he was tapping his fingers together, or dragging them across the stone walls. It grated on my nerves, as I knew it would. He hummed quietly. I realized, suddenly, that the sound was right behind me. I whirled, lifting my hands, but it was too late. He had bitten me.
"I thought you were going to… to wait," I gasped. My eyes teared at the pain.
"Yes," he giggled. "But I meant to catch you unawares, and I succeeded."
The blood trickled down my neck, over my collarbone. Aro cupped his hand, gathering it in his palm. "You taste incredible," he sighed, licking his fingers delightedly.
I pushed at his arms, weak with revulsion. "Stop…"
"No…" He ran his fingers, now bloody, through my hair. "No, I am enjoying myself too much. I seldom find time for pleasure, Aster."
"Oh, I see." I pushed him again, this time punching his stomach. He released me, surprise widening his crimson eyes. Air was hissing through my teeth. "It must be such a strain for you, with the world at your fingertips. You can rape and murder as much as you please. Not me." I backed away, pressing myself against the door. He had not drawn sufficient blood to cripple me. "I will not be your pleasure."
"My dear child," he said slowly. "You seem to be under some misconception." Faster than shadow, his body moved, and I was caught, strangled in his grip. "You will serve to sate me, and you will give me pleasure. For alas…" His lips sucked my neck. "Fortune favors the compliant. You have been a very naughty girl."
I tore away from him again, though God knows how I had the strength. "You let my uncle go!" I accused. "You let them go! Why not me!"
"Oh, well, yes." Aro examined the lining of his cloak. "I think it's time I told you the truth about that, Aster."
My face paled. "What do you mean?"
He sighed. "They were never freed, my dear one. It was all a pretense."
"You kept them here?" I gasped. "Where are they? Are they safe?"
He giggled a little. "Oh, they're safe, and they will never reveal our little secret, I assure you."
"You—" My throat filled. I couldn't speak.
Aro watched me silently, half his face in shadow. "Don't look at me like that," he said softly. "Didn't I tell you I never drink children's blood?"
I lunged at him, reaching for his smug, angelic face. I wanted to hurt him; wanted to tear his skin 'til the blood ran down in rivers. He caught me mid-leap, wresting me away from him. I moaned, clasping a twisted wrist, but the anger was too fresh. I rushed forward again, only to be flung back with even more force. My knees buckled, and the wood splintered. I curled up like a paper doll. Aro stood above me, dark and overpowering.
"Relax, my little tigress," he chuckled. "Let time lick your wounds."
"You killed them," I sobbed. "You and your filthy, murderous, bloodsucking—"
He covered my mouth, silencing me. "That will do, my dear. I know what you were going to say, and it doesn't appeal to me. Fancy a sweet girl like you knowing such language!" He laughed to himself. God, I hated that laugh.
I cried out as he knelt beside me. His fingers brushed away my hair, and he lifted me against him gently. "Now if you don't mind," he whispered.
"Damn you!" I screamed.
"Shh…" He leaned close, and once again I lost all contact with reality.
Is this hell?
