Time passed slower then, after Peter left. I couldn't understand why..

Peter was my friend and someone who understood the pointlessness of all this fighting. He shared my dreams of peace, even if I never vocalized them as much as he did. Now that he was gone, I felt suddenly empty again, as I did when Lucy and Nettie died.

So to pass the time, I wandered the streets as I did once before. And my trips became more frequent, as I wanted to spend less and less time in the house. Mostly because Maria seemed so distant, even more so than before. She was angry that I'd allowed Peter to escape with that newborn, but she didn't say anything about it, she merely ignored me. All the same, I was used to being alone by now.

I looked up suddenly from my aimless walking, to find myself in a graveyard not far from my childhood home. Without my own knowledge I'd past over the wall, leaping it effortlessly, as if it weren't even there. Suddenly I found my body cold and numb as I stared over the many tomb stones. Slowly I began walking, taking careful steps through the overgrown grass and weeds. Each place I stepped on held a body, someone's mother or father or grandfather, humans who's time on this earth had finally come to an end. How lucky they were, to be able to die, they didn't even know how truly lucky they were. They needn't suffer through decades of loneliness and violence, all they need to do is fall asleep one night and not wake up or fall ill with a sickness. How easy. Part of me still wished I could die so easily, perhaps then my suffering would end.

I stared around silently, mentally noting the names on each of the stones I passed. Entire families, killed either by the war or a thirsting vampire. How many of these humans fell victims to vampires I wondered.. How many were slain by a crazed newborn on a feeding frenzy? How can one tell? Would they just be mistaken for the victim of a theif, or a john who happened upon the wrong whore? Would their families study their corpses, and question their loved one's passing? Would they damn the creature who could slay them so mercilessly?

I stopped, my eyes widening as I happened upon a grave that had been recently filled. Looking over the names on the head stones, I felt my heart drop.

There, before me, lay my mother and father, side by side beneath the ground and the mossy headstone. I brushed my fingers over the stone, taking away the fresh moss that had grown there.

So they had died.. After so long, I never even thought about them. Had they wondered how I died? Questioned why a body was not brought back with the other victims of the war? Undoubtably. My father would surely question the government for not bringing home his son.. And my mother.. She would weep. How many nights had she lay awake thinking of her eldest child? How many tears fell upon her pillow as she anguished over my death?

Fear and remorse rippled through me, and I found myself backing away from the silent tombs of my parents. I broke into a sprint, dashing over the wall and into the fields that led into town. I needed to know that the rest of my house carried on without me, not as if that would be very comforting. I wanted to know if my brother grew into a well respected man, just as I'd always hoped. I just had to.

I ran for miles, passing through the town without a second glance from any of the inhabitants. I stopped abruptly, staring up at the high gates surrounding the plantation of my childhood.

I bounded over the walls, latching myself to the wall of the west wing of the house, there I could see the slave quarters in the distance. I followed the scent of blood to the small window that shone from the room of my brother when he was a baby. Then I saw a face.

Beyond the glass I saw a woman, young and beautiful. She was humming softly to the tiny bundle of cloth laying in her arm. Her long hair seemed to drip down her shoulders, glimmering in the light of the fire in the hearth. Her flawless hands brushed away the blanket, revealing the face of a small child. My throat went dry as the child's scent passed through the air to me. So sweet.. I watched the child open her wide eyes, peering up at her mother thoughtfully as dimples formed in her cheeks. The mother laughed lightly, her laughter soaked with the deep sensuallness of her voice. Again she brushed her finger over the child's face. Then the child looked, up, staring past her mother directly at me. My heart would have stopped had it been beating.

Then the door opened, and my brother appeared, tall and tan and blonde, no longer the little twelve year old boy I'd left the day I joined the Confederate army. He had the sleek features of our family, but there was something more. There was a ruggedness about him, as if he'd lived and seen more than he had ever been meant to. His blue eyes flashed down to his wife as he placed a light kiss onto her temple.

I was entranced, watching the scene with wide eyed curiosity. So happy they looked, so innocent. They didn't look as if they had a care or fear in the world. They were oblivious to the monsterous shadow looming just beyond the glass, ready to drain them of the life force.

The child looked again at me, this time wriggling her tiny hand out from beneath the blanket. Her small fingers contorted, bending and streching in the air. It was trying to wave, trying to manipulate her muscles to create the gesture. Finally she did it, and smiled at her accomplishment. She waved, staring expectantly at me for a response. I lifted my hand from it's place on the wall, carefully waving back at her. Laugher erupted from her tiny pink lips, jarring her parent's attention down to her.

My brother's eyes ticked up to the window, and I ducked away before he could see me. I could feel his fear in my chest and it remained long after he looked away. He must have known what looms in the darkness, but hopefully he did not know what I was and what I had done to so many innocent people.

I dropped down onto the grass, dashing away into the darkness feeling less fufilled then I should have. But why? Seeing my brother happy and healthy and in love should have brought me comfort, but it did not. I suppose I felt sad because I knew I could never have a life like that. I could never have a child or a wife or a life of bliss in the countryside. No..

I would never be allowed to have such a thing.. Not after all that I have done..