Diary
[By Nabil.C]
Wesley stumbles across this diary after fixing up a room in the hotel. he begins to read it. it was a former guests' diary.
For whoever should find this.
If you have found this. and are reading this now, then I no longer exist. I write, here, my deepest and darkest thoughts. I hope you find something in this. my life. that can help you to understand the person I was. There is no cure for what I have. Only God will decide for me now. My only wish is that once you have read this. that you destroy it. I trust you fully to do what I ask.
Yours,
William S Levern.
[One.]
There are others like me. In the dark. In the cold. Away from others. From the pain. The hurt. The perfect life. It was taken from me. There's so much I could have lived for, so much to lose. and yet I remember. I still feel. what it was like. to be human.
I lived a normal life. I succeeded where others failed: I excelled in school, I worked harder than any man, my goal; perfection. To be at one with myself. To sit down one day many years from then and say 'By god, I have made something of myself'. My life had promise. I was destined to accomplish what I craved. I lived a comfortable life. My own house, my own car. On the verge of starting my own family. I cared for people. My friends, my family. My fiancé. I cared until 9 months ago.
Thursday night, I had just finished the last of the charts for the meeting the next day. It was safe to say that I was not amused. I was late for a Christmas party, and I rushed into my crumbing car and headed for the venue. God. Christmas. Will I ever celebrate that again? Will he allow me to?
The roads seem to just roll into my eyes, one after the other. The snow was thick, and the tyres on my car seemed to fit perfectly in the tracks left by others. It gave me confidence that other cars had also been driving down these narrow country lanes. and had obviously survived the trip. The phone. Lisa; she was not coming to the party. Her mother is unwell. I tell her I will see her soon; give my best wishes to her mum. But I won't see her soon. I tell her I love her. I don't know if I could do that now.
The trees are bent over the road, and if I look closely I can see the shapes of men reflecting in them. The moon is half, and guides me ever closer to my destination. I am tired. I loosen the tie around my neck. The roads seem endless. Its then that I see my destiny. My future. Two yellow dots that seemed millions of miles away. at the end of the road. ever increasing in size. It's only until about 50 meters that I realise that the yellow dots are in-fact the eyes of a person. But this person isn't standing still. It's running. no. it was flying towards me.
I brake suddenly as the face and yellow eyes fly over my car. I skid out of control. I hit tree after tree after tree until my car stops. What happens next is unclear. Except. the eyes. the face. they are there again. Looking me in the face. Pain in my neck. Then darkness.
The dirt is on my face. In my mouth. I can't see. I can't breathe. I can only hear myself screaming in pain. I'm stuck in some box. It's tight. all around my body. yet laced with silk. The bow tie around my neck chafes me. I try to raise my knee. Smash. Straight through the wood. Dirt pours in. I put my arms either side of the box and push. It breaks. More dirt pours in. I'm in the ground. I rip through the soil to the top. I remember Night of the Living dead; the corpse rising from the grave. one hand reaching out of the soil. It's a dream. I know it is. I will wake up soon. Yes I will. No I won't. Yes I will. No. I don't. I pull myself out of the ground. It's dark. The nearby road lights keep the cemetery I'm in alight. I turn to my stone; my name. My date of birth. My date of death.
Panic struck me. A deep pain within my stomach. My arms and veins pumped. My eyes and head grew red hot and my chest burned up. I leant on my knees and tried to calm myself. What happened to me? I had some rough idea where I was. I look around. See the crosses. The other headstones. A fresh grave, three graves to the left of mine. I stumble to the road. Not to far from where I live. I will get home. Try and sort this out. I walk. Well. you could call it that. More limped. A bin. A paper lies at the top of it. The date, what is it? 16th June. 6 months. I feel like crying but I can't. I don't have tears. Is this a miracle? Has he given me another chance? I smile. Should I be happy? I look to the sky. Thank-you. To this day I'm still not sure who I was thanking.
My house. My car isn't there. Another one is. Not Lisa's. The lights are off at the front. The gate is open. I walk around the back. The lights are on. The dining room. People. Lisa. Two older people. an old couple? I don't recognise them. Another man. He sits next to Lisa. He puts his arm around her casually. This isn't right. This is not happening. I back away. I have to compose myself. I can't just walk in there and say 'hey honey, I'm not dead.' My head hurts again. I look at them. Laughing. Eating. Living. And yet I just can't seem to bring myself to do that. I look at them again. I feel nothing but anger. Thirsty. I'm starving. I need to get to a hospital. I know I need medical attention. But I can't ask for them to take me. I can't ask anyone. It's just too weird for anyone. even me. to handle.
Central town. It's late I guess. I walk barefooted through the centre of town. The shoes they put on me where too small. Maybe because parts of the body shrink when it's dead. I pass shop after shop. Until I notice something. I turn to the window of the shop nearest to me. It's funny. Like the sudden realisation of something that will haunt you forever. A wake up call. A kick in the face. I walk nearer and nearer to the window. I feel my eyes widen. I feel my mouth begin to drop. I shake my head. I say the words; No. Over and over. It can't be. It's not possible. I take a further look. Closer. I drop to my knees. My hands flat against the cold window. My head bowed down. My eyes closed tightly. I gasp. The street light reflects onto the window and into my eyes. they should be gleaming with tears. but again they fail to come. I take just one more look. One last chance to prove that what I'm seeing isn't true. But it is true. I have no reflection.
Wesley looks shocked. The coincidence of finding a vampires diary in a vampires hotel?
(To Be Continued)
[By Nabil.C]
Wesley stumbles across this diary after fixing up a room in the hotel. he begins to read it. it was a former guests' diary.
For whoever should find this.
If you have found this. and are reading this now, then I no longer exist. I write, here, my deepest and darkest thoughts. I hope you find something in this. my life. that can help you to understand the person I was. There is no cure for what I have. Only God will decide for me now. My only wish is that once you have read this. that you destroy it. I trust you fully to do what I ask.
Yours,
William S Levern.
[One.]
There are others like me. In the dark. In the cold. Away from others. From the pain. The hurt. The perfect life. It was taken from me. There's so much I could have lived for, so much to lose. and yet I remember. I still feel. what it was like. to be human.
I lived a normal life. I succeeded where others failed: I excelled in school, I worked harder than any man, my goal; perfection. To be at one with myself. To sit down one day many years from then and say 'By god, I have made something of myself'. My life had promise. I was destined to accomplish what I craved. I lived a comfortable life. My own house, my own car. On the verge of starting my own family. I cared for people. My friends, my family. My fiancé. I cared until 9 months ago.
Thursday night, I had just finished the last of the charts for the meeting the next day. It was safe to say that I was not amused. I was late for a Christmas party, and I rushed into my crumbing car and headed for the venue. God. Christmas. Will I ever celebrate that again? Will he allow me to?
The roads seem to just roll into my eyes, one after the other. The snow was thick, and the tyres on my car seemed to fit perfectly in the tracks left by others. It gave me confidence that other cars had also been driving down these narrow country lanes. and had obviously survived the trip. The phone. Lisa; she was not coming to the party. Her mother is unwell. I tell her I will see her soon; give my best wishes to her mum. But I won't see her soon. I tell her I love her. I don't know if I could do that now.
The trees are bent over the road, and if I look closely I can see the shapes of men reflecting in them. The moon is half, and guides me ever closer to my destination. I am tired. I loosen the tie around my neck. The roads seem endless. Its then that I see my destiny. My future. Two yellow dots that seemed millions of miles away. at the end of the road. ever increasing in size. It's only until about 50 meters that I realise that the yellow dots are in-fact the eyes of a person. But this person isn't standing still. It's running. no. it was flying towards me.
I brake suddenly as the face and yellow eyes fly over my car. I skid out of control. I hit tree after tree after tree until my car stops. What happens next is unclear. Except. the eyes. the face. they are there again. Looking me in the face. Pain in my neck. Then darkness.
The dirt is on my face. In my mouth. I can't see. I can't breathe. I can only hear myself screaming in pain. I'm stuck in some box. It's tight. all around my body. yet laced with silk. The bow tie around my neck chafes me. I try to raise my knee. Smash. Straight through the wood. Dirt pours in. I put my arms either side of the box and push. It breaks. More dirt pours in. I'm in the ground. I rip through the soil to the top. I remember Night of the Living dead; the corpse rising from the grave. one hand reaching out of the soil. It's a dream. I know it is. I will wake up soon. Yes I will. No I won't. Yes I will. No. I don't. I pull myself out of the ground. It's dark. The nearby road lights keep the cemetery I'm in alight. I turn to my stone; my name. My date of birth. My date of death.
Panic struck me. A deep pain within my stomach. My arms and veins pumped. My eyes and head grew red hot and my chest burned up. I leant on my knees and tried to calm myself. What happened to me? I had some rough idea where I was. I look around. See the crosses. The other headstones. A fresh grave, three graves to the left of mine. I stumble to the road. Not to far from where I live. I will get home. Try and sort this out. I walk. Well. you could call it that. More limped. A bin. A paper lies at the top of it. The date, what is it? 16th June. 6 months. I feel like crying but I can't. I don't have tears. Is this a miracle? Has he given me another chance? I smile. Should I be happy? I look to the sky. Thank-you. To this day I'm still not sure who I was thanking.
My house. My car isn't there. Another one is. Not Lisa's. The lights are off at the front. The gate is open. I walk around the back. The lights are on. The dining room. People. Lisa. Two older people. an old couple? I don't recognise them. Another man. He sits next to Lisa. He puts his arm around her casually. This isn't right. This is not happening. I back away. I have to compose myself. I can't just walk in there and say 'hey honey, I'm not dead.' My head hurts again. I look at them. Laughing. Eating. Living. And yet I just can't seem to bring myself to do that. I look at them again. I feel nothing but anger. Thirsty. I'm starving. I need to get to a hospital. I know I need medical attention. But I can't ask for them to take me. I can't ask anyone. It's just too weird for anyone. even me. to handle.
Central town. It's late I guess. I walk barefooted through the centre of town. The shoes they put on me where too small. Maybe because parts of the body shrink when it's dead. I pass shop after shop. Until I notice something. I turn to the window of the shop nearest to me. It's funny. Like the sudden realisation of something that will haunt you forever. A wake up call. A kick in the face. I walk nearer and nearer to the window. I feel my eyes widen. I feel my mouth begin to drop. I shake my head. I say the words; No. Over and over. It can't be. It's not possible. I take a further look. Closer. I drop to my knees. My hands flat against the cold window. My head bowed down. My eyes closed tightly. I gasp. The street light reflects onto the window and into my eyes. they should be gleaming with tears. but again they fail to come. I take just one more look. One last chance to prove that what I'm seeing isn't true. But it is true. I have no reflection.
Wesley looks shocked. The coincidence of finding a vampires diary in a vampires hotel?
(To Be Continued)
