REDEMPTION

[Caligrace]

March 16, 2016

I don’t know what happened after I left the club. All I know is that a man showed up at my office last night, and demanded to know what happened to his brother. Charles. At some point, those few broken bones hadn’t sufficed, and now he is in a coma. The doctors are saying they aren’t sure if he’ll even wake again. Matthew, his brother, is demanding my head - and I haven’t the heart to tell him that he’s making things worse for himself. This isn’t how I live my life. I’m not someone that approves of taking lives into your own hands. I am not the law, and I’m not comfortable that my friends think they are. It makes me uneasy, and when I’m uneasy, my emotions are harder to control. Why have I lost such control of my life? How am I supposed to survive like this?

I need to figure out what to do about Matthew. If I tell the crew that he was here - and reveal his threats - I’m sure something awful will happen to him. I’ve managed to calm him down enough to give me time to get things in order, but he promised that he’ll come back. He seems the type to avoid the law altogether. Maybe… Maybe I should talk to someone. I know that I’m some newfound immortal, something that shouldn’t exist, but I’m still… me. I’m still a woman, I’m still humane. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I can’t stand to feed - something that I need to survive - but I’m able to crush a serving tray into a man’s face because he grabbed my *** and insulted his girlfriend?

I’ll wait for a while, and I’ll see how idle his threats are. If anything, I can confuse him - it’s something I’ve learned to do, even though I’m not great about it. Perhaps I can make him forget me, or bend him to my will. The thought sickens me, but I have more than just myself to protect. I don’t want him to find out anything about me. Elighan, Freyja, Slick - they all have to be protected, and if I have to give up apart of myself to do it, I will. My inability to control myself caused this, and so I have to be the one to fix it. Maybe I’ll bring it up to Elighan, at the very least. He might know something that I can do. He seems like someone that can control my messes, even though I don’t want that to be the basis of our relationship. I think I’m talking myself in circles again. This is pointless.

Andras doesn’t seem to be all that bad. They have a problem with me - well, not all of them and I’m not sure that it’s necessarily with me, but with who I was reborn as. It seems that because I’m an allurist, I’m automatically something awful. I don’t think they’re serious with their dislike, so their comments aren’t bothering me, but it’s something I should look out for. I don’t want to upset them, but I feel like I need to be careful with how I act around them. If I act too much like myself, they may not let me stay, and I won’t do that to Freyja. Elin assures me that I am overthinking this, and I think she’s right. With everything else that’s going on in my life, I think I’m just looking for problems. All in all, they seem to be a wonderful group of people, and I’ve enjoyed my time there so far.

I’m not sure what else to say, or to write. I have other things on my mind, but before I put them to paper, I need to make sure that I’m not just being over-emotional. I think I’m slowly starting to get the hang of this, but just in case - I should be cautious. Even with myself.

[Caligrace]

August 6, 2016

It's been a while since I've written anything down. I have no excuse for my absence. There is no reason to give that will validate the fact that I've been slack in my own actions. I haven't a clue what I plan to say. Even words for my own eyes are hard to come by, hard to put to paper. My thoughts are a mess of chaos and fear, and there's nothing I can do to compile them into one simple thought. It's been like this for a while, now. I've lost myself, I've lost my path.

I suppose I should start with the one though that screams loudest than the rest. Elighan. He asked me to be his on Valentine's, and then... he vanished. In the same day, the same breath he was gone. I remember, through the fog of my mind, that he had mentioned about it. Something about his job. There was a warning there, a warning that I refused to listen to, to heed, to take to heart. Instead, I was caught up in the fire in his eyes and the heat in his kiss. I was foolish. I should have listened, I should have asked more questions.

I should have, should have, should have.

I've tried so hard to not think about him, to put one foot in front of the other and put him in the past, but it's not working. The worry is fanning the fire he started, and so I've found myself e-mailing him. Daily messages that he may or may not receive. I tell him of Harper Rock, I tell him of our life, I told him about the humans. I begged him to be careful. It's all I can think to do, and it's therapeutic in a way. I don't expect to hear from him, but it's helping. It's a lot like writing my thoughts here, within you, but there's a chance - a small chance - that someone will read them. Maybe he does see them, maybe it helps him through whatever he is doing. Maybe he's laughing at my stupidity, my lame attempt to keep into contact with someone that would rather be left alone. It doesn't matter.

When the choice is to write those e-mails or to lose myself in the high that Freyja offers me, I choose the letters. I've spent my days lost in that haze, that Utopia that has kept me higher than I have ever been. I know how wonderful it can feel to be above all of the rest, to numb myself against the pain and feel nothing but happiness and freedom. It sounds like a wonderful, peaceful thing - but then the crash comes. The ground crumbles beneath my feet, and I plummet back to earth - and back to reality. The pain is worse then. Not just the hurt from him, but everything. Every emotion I've forced myself to not feel, every thought I've bound in iron and shelved. It's all there, and when that high shatters, I'm left with tracks of mascara on my cheeks and a scream on my lips.

Freyja, bless her soul, has done everything for me that she can. She hasn't left my side. If I leave the apartment, she's there, a brilliant, glowing shadow that follows every move I make. If I stumble, she's there. If my eyes fill with tears, she's there. Whatever I do, she's there, and I should feel suffocated. I don't. Without her, I'd be lost. It's not her fault. In fact, she's done everything in her power to make sure that I'm better at this. It was her fault, she said, that she didn't help me adjust when I first transitioned. It's a difficult road, but it's one that I will travel. I will beat this, whatever this madness inside of my chest is. I will overcome it. I haven't a choice - especially now.

If I were to lose my control, if I were to slip for just a second in the presence of a human, I'd be marked. I've already been attacked twice, and these attacks came from a pair uncertain if I even was a vampire. I can walk in the sun, I appear healthy and whole, but there was something about me that set them off. Something I did that made them suspect that I wasn't entirely pure - and they reacted. They shot me through the heart, and they stabbed me through the chest. They left me for dead in the alley beside Myth. If it hadn't been for Knight and Roja, I would have died there. They fed me, and they lead me back to Freyja, who wanted to burn the city to the ground.

Instead, we came up with a plan.

I wanted to leave - she wanted to fight. Together, we worked it out. She's going public. She's going to show the world that we're human in all ways - except the one that matters, of course - and then I'll follow her. I'll step in the spotlight, once I get my emotions under control, and together we'll take the steps needed to look out for ourselves - and our own kind. I wish the humans no harm. I wish I was still one of them. That's why I do what I do. We are not like some of our kind, the dark, the dangerous, the ones that think losing your life means you lose your humanity. We are not those. We will never be those. We are bright, we are pure, we are light.

I can only hope that our plan will succeed. This means that I will be under scrutiny. This means that my father will find out I am alive. This means that my friends will know I am alive. This means that everyone will know what I am, what I need to survive, what I can do. They'll either turn in shame, run in fear, or accept me with open arms.

Only time will tell.