Being a vampire is like being a fly trapped in a room of spider webs; one wrong move and you're gone. So what you're already dead? The pain of death isn't even close to the pain of not being able to feed for a time. Withdrawal is worse than if you were to be coming off heroin. Excruciating pain splits through you're head and your stomach. It's like your insides are being shrunk to the size of someone's thumb. It makes you weaker mentally too, so that the others can tell you won't be able to defeat them. And it's not like you can just run to McDonald's and grab a burger or something. Blood is all your body wants, needs, craves. There is nothing else.
As you get stronger, there are less and less spider webs to deal with. I would have been classified as one of the stronger vampires, if not for Marie. She used me as a way to get food, a way to get even more powerful. Then she left me to rot. This is what being a vampire does to your heart. Turns it to stone. Now I am known as weak, it is known that anyone here can easily break me. But that will change. I will get my reputation back, and I will avenge Marie. I will seek her out, follow her. Whatever she seems to think will be her food will then be mine. She will wither away and I, once again, will be the stronger of the two of us. She deserves that, the little bitch she is. I loved Marie, and she knew that, but she used that knowledge to take advantage of a food opportunity. That's how it is here. No feelings whatsoever, except for greed, and hate. No blood, no power, no respect. And everyone wants to be respected. I'm slowly destroying some of the webs in my life, little by little. As webs disintegrate, I become stronger, every day. And, every day, I am one step closer to Marie. One step closer. I will get my revenge.
The day has arrived. I am strong enough now, I've built up over the past two years. She has been beaten thrice in the last month, and I will strike while she's weak. I creep up behind her, she's oblivious to the fact that I am there. I raise my hand, about to strike a blow to her head. It stops in midair. I can't bring myself to do this. For such a long time I have seeked revenge on this greedy bitch they call Marie. How am I not able to hit her, just once? Why?, you ask. I still love her, that's why. It's disgusting when I think about it, but it's true. And I was thinking about how I must go back to all those spider webs, and back to hating my reflection, when she said, "I thought so."