**I think this will be a pretty good read after all that Jazzy heartbreak. Please do enjoy...one of my favorites when writing! Hopefully you will feel the same and understand why!**

Ch. 7--Nothing Short of Angels

I left a note, I was that level-headed, at least. I didn't want to speak to them face to face. I suppose that was cowardice, but I couldn't handle their sympathy anymore. It was killing me, not literally...but it still hurt.

I slipped the note beneath the door jamb from outside. Luckily, Charlotte had left her sketch tablet outside. She enjoyed drawing, and her art made me feel somewhat happy. I knew Peter urged her to continue after he saw life flicker in my eyes at the sight of her pencil strokes. It was rather ironic that what I had come to like in her art made me depressed once again. When I would find her, she would ask if I would like for her to draw. I could see she didn't feel like it, and the pictures would never come out right. It was just another attempt to make me happy.

As I had reached for the book, slightly damp even as it lay under the patio table, I flipped through for a black page. That's when I saw it.

A picture of me.

At first I was amazed by the detail, then horrified. Who was this? When I found it was me, I slunk to the floor and stared at it for a long, long while. It was just a close-up drawing; head and shoulders. I wished it wasn't, for this captured everything I felt so perfectly that it hurt.

The person in the sketch's eyes were so…sad. Even though Charlotte had tried to make it look happy and appealing, my true depression seeped through the page. I could see smudges on it where she decided that putting a fakely happy face on me wasn't right--that she should just go with my real appearance--rugged and shameful. Surely it wasn't meant to be seen.

I tried my best to keep my emotions hidden. Obviously, I failed at that. I tore my eyes from the page and ripped a new clean sheet from the book, with Charlotte's words ringing in my head...how I should get a mate. I looked into the sky, looked at its hugeness. Could there me someone out there--? It was hardly possible, I chided myself for allowing myself to believe I could ever be loved like that. No--I hardly deserved it after all the hellish deeds I had done.

But...to come home to a mate--no, no...a love. To have her smile at me and radiate those lovely emotions, to feel her hands on my face, cradling it as her lips met mine. No, no. I could never...never get that.

I snatched up the charcoal lying beside the booklet and slashed out the sentences I intended to say.

Dearest Peter and Charlotte,

I know I wasn't the best to have around. I know I dampened moods and ruined days, but please know it was never on purpose. Just know I apologize for my behavior, but please also understand. When something dies, all the fear it has ever felt is intensified in one moment. And I share that moment with my prey every single time I feed. I don't know if you ever knew the full extent of my personal feeding process, but it isn't pleasant.

Thank you so much for helping me, however. Don't think I am leaving you because you couldn't help. You tried all you could, but I need to go off on my own now. I have burdened you enough. And don't say that I didn't--that I was totally fine by being a mindless shell. I know it's not right. I can feel it from you, not to be rude, but to be truthful.

Peter, you were always my dearest friend. I know I am not exactly the most pleasant companion, but I would be a far worse being without you. Sometimes you underestimate your impact on me. Those years with Maria rendered me empty, for I only knew her fake emotion. I wanted your true compassion more than anything back then.

Charlotte. You are also a dear, dear friend, and I am terribly sorry for the way I acted in front of you. It was rude and uncalled for--I was blaming you for my own problems, when you only wanted to help me. Thank you for your concern, but please understand that perhaps I am meant to be alone. You are meant to be with Peter, and I should only try to tend to myself for now. I know you only long to help. You are a gorgeous person, and Peter is lucky to have you. I myself am blessed to know you.

I leave you with this, my friends. I am not exactly a whole person--vampire, that is, but I would be a whole lot less without you two. Bless you both. People and legends may say that vampires are demons, but you are nothing short of angels.

-Jasper Whitlock

I stood up from the door where I had pushed it under. I was satisfied with it out of my hands, so I couldn't revise and scribble anything else out. The snow was still falling.

I had nothing to take with me--only the clothes on my back, which were technically Peter's, but I am sure he wouldn't mind after all the grief I had already put him through.

I turned to the sun, for it was rising. The night had seemed long and filled with my own self loathe. I hoped I could at least put that away for now.

I stood against the sun, simply a silhouette. My lanky and broken frame--black against the pale yellow light of the rising sun. The flakes were becoming slushier--less artistic in their patterns. I looked away from the sky, and set my sight only for the road ahead.

"Jasper!"

I was tempted to dash off at that second, but once I turned to Charlotte, I found that she had no intention of stopping me. The letter was clutched in her hand, her eyes wide. They would pool with tears if able. The parchment, wrinkled with moisture, was pressed against her breast as she slowly exited her house. Her long flowing skirt whispered across the white floor.

We looked at each other for a long while. She cocked her head and smiled. Actually smiled. Yet, I knew she wasn't joyous for my departure, but for my own decision. I wasn't a lifeless shell, and I was doing something that was right for me and me alone.

She pushed her hair from her face, her eyes glowing. Her tiny feet brought her to me. I stood stiffly and watched her with expectant eyes. Still clutching the paper, she gripped my shoulders lightly. She kissed my cheek, and then my mouth with soft friendship, having to stand on her toes. She leaned away, the sunlight lacing in her irises.

"I wish you the best, Jasper Whitlock." she said softly. I could feel her gentle sobs coming in.

"Thank you so much, Charlotte." I managed.

"Will we ever see you again? Do you think?" Her wide eyes, fringed with ebony, bore into mine. I told her the truth.

"I cannot be sure."

With that, she broke from me and nodded. She walked back to the house. I continued to make my distance between this kind home longer.

--...--

That day I left, I never in a million years would believe that I was going to find the one that would help me piece my life back together.

I was a vampire, and I had weaker limits than others, mostly emotionally. I wished there was a way to have an easier life, but I barely dwelled on that because I knew there had to be no such thing. I would die soon of starvation or depression, if possible. That thought was more comforting than: what if not? I could wander the world forever, always starving and bruised from the fearful emotions of my on-lookers.

I knew it wasn't terribly smart to dash into a small diner full of hot blooded humans, but who would simply pass a half-insane stranger standing alone in the pouring rain? I vaguely saw the yellow lights, but I mostly smelled the blood around me. I was starving, but nearly too fatigued to obey it, though I was meant to obey anything.

The moment was so blurred, clouded by my wavering vision. I was literally dead on my feet, a corpse among fresh hot bodies. The water soaked me, so I stood there, puddling on the grimy yellow linoleum. I couldn't hear the soft water falling from my frame, not did I hear the humans' happy voices rise to the heated ceiling. Cigarette smoke scented the air, mingling with the greasy fry smell and human aroma. The humans also reeked of sweat and overly caked-on powders and perfumes. It clogged my throat, rendering it nearly numb.

That's when she must have seen me, when I was practically swaying on my feet, about to crumple right there. I thought I was strong enough to leave Peter and Charlotte, but now, when I fed, I simply had no one to take care of me. It was not an advantage at all. I was thinking of this...and then I heard it.

"You've kept me waiting a long time."