A/N: So sorry for the wait! I had writer's block for too long. This chapter takes place a week from the last, and it's a transition chapter…probably not one of my best, so sorry about that, too. Haha. Review to tell me what you think! Thanks :) (And the quote below is a poem this time, not a song.)

Disclaimer: Everything but Emmie is AHAR's.

"Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,

Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,

Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,

Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

"If anyone asks, say it was forgotten

Long and long ago,

As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall

In a long forgotten snow."

-"Let It Be Forgotten," Sara Teasdale

I am too tired of fighting it. Of fighting what I've become. Each time I try to stop feeding, try to anger another vampire so extremely that they want to kill me, I always manage to evade death.

I am living in the house Jager bought me.

But he's never around. Not in New Mayhem, not anywhere I go. Not like I'm looking for him, or anything. But it is as if what we had...wasn't anything at all. It's like it never happened. And that angers me. I force away the thought that I've become a monster for nothing--force it away before I can even think it.

Today I will myself to a bus stop near my parents' house, carrying a bag stuffed with nondescript clothes to act like I'm still going on with my life. I've even packed a few publishing things I'd had left before I quit my job a week ago; a grammar book, a copy of someone's manuscript, a thesaurus. I call the house from a pay phone while I wait for the bus. As the phone rings in my ear, I'm scanning the small crowd in front of me. But I'm not thirsty; I fed this morning on someone walking his dog by my new home. It sickens me only slightly how I didn't feel remorse for killing the boy; I was only sad for the dog.

"Hello?" The voice of my mother snaps me back to reality like a punch to the gut. But this has to be done.

"Hi, Mom," I whisper. "It's me. Emmie." I cringe at the name.

"Emmie? What's wrong?" Leave it to her to expect something to be wrong the moment I call her.

"Nothing," I soothe. "I'm in town for my job. Can I come over? I won't be staying long, but maybe I could spend the night?" I ask, and the lies slip out easily.

She's silent for a moment; all I can hear is her breathing on the other end. "You won't bring any of your...friends over, will you?" she asks finally.

She means the boys I used to have over nearly every night towards the end of high school. "Of course not," I snap, sharper than I'd intended. I soften my voice. "You know me better than that, Mom. You know I've changed."

I can almost see her relaxing on the other end of the line. "Sure, honey. You're always welcome." It's amazing that I'm still the better liar.

"Thanks. I'll be over in less than an hour."

I briefly wonder if I should walk or take the bus, but I decide on the bus--it's more human. To me, at least. And I need to be around people. Need to remind myself how to act around my parents.

The sun has set by the time the bus arrives, and I pick a seat towards the back, finding myself staring out the window. But because of the lights in the bus, my reflection in the glass obscures my view. I think back to when I shattered the mirror in my bathroom, in Emma's bathroom, and smile to myself. Destroying that piece of my past has brought me to terms with the creature I am. I no longer doubt myself; I am a vampire, and I cannot change that. I am not even furious with Jager anymore for changing me.

Is this change sudden? Perhaps. Maybe I should still hate the monster I am, should sulk and lash out at everyone that speaks to me. I hate being perfect. But that resentment has also drained out of me slightly. I am Elyse; I have changed from the self-pitying, ignorant human I once was. And although I would have died—literally—before becoming what I am now, I am learning to stop fighting it, though I am far from accepting it.

I spend the night with my parents, and don't try too hard to show them I've changed. If they were never to see me again—which they probably won't—they wouldn't care less; they already know in their minds who Emmie is. They have decided on who their daughter is based on her old problems.

So I sit back, speaking with them but not really paying attention, instead soaking up every detail of them I'll be able to remember—my mother's golden hair and gray eyes, my father's impressive strength and indigo gaze. Like mine. I memorize his smile, her laugh, their smells, and say my silent good-byes.

In the morning, because I can't afford to endanger them by giving in to the bloodlust, I am gone early.

As I walk out of the house, I breathe a sigh of relief. I have this sense of acceptance, of peace. Perhaps it is the fact that I've tied loose ends together, loose ends that, in Emmie's life, would probably never have been afforded attention. But now, with a small smile, I can tuck away my past somewhere safe, where I don't have to think about it. And then I will myself away to go feed.

A/N: …Next chapter should be up soon!