The turning of Aisha [Lancaster]

[Aisha (DELETED 7303)]

Just a simple siring....

[Aisha (DELETED 7303)]

The rain fell melodically on the glass of the window, and Aisha stared out from where she sat on her hospital bed, watching the murky afternoon roll on. The beeps of her heart monitor accompanied the pattering of rain drops, as the only other sound in the dim room. Aisha had had no visitors today, except for her nurse, who came once on Aisha's request, and the second time for coax her into taking two enormous pills. Needless to say, she was lonely, and bored. A deadly combination on a rainy day.

Aisha couldn't remember a time when she wasn't sick, a day that wasn't passed watching others rush through their lives. Going where they wanted, seeing who they wished, loving anyone they could. The thought used to make her sad, but now there was only a dull ache, and a subtle longing. This small hospital room, and the few rooms she was aloud to visit when she was up for it, had become her reality.

The walls had been littered with her drawings, intricate ink and water color sketches, and many flowering plants lined the table by her window. A plethora oh stuffed animals lay on her bed, given to her by a few visitors and a couple of nurses. Her condition had worsened in the last few days, leaving her unable to enjoy wandering the halls, and visiting other patients. She often brought them drawings or flowers, sitting and chatting, laughing with them, until sometimes she would show up at their door, to find an empty room.

Aisha wrapped her arms around on of the larger ones, a furry white rabbit she had fondly named Vanilla. A bit of her hair fell into her face as she rested her chin a top its head, her dark eyes scanning the line of nearly barren trees in the parking lot. Aisha closed her eyes and leaned back, wondering if this was to be her day. She began to think of her brother, her last surviving relative, and though not much older than her, had thrown away all his hopes and dreams to take care of her. She felt a twinge of pain in her chest, and she furrowed her dark brows. 'If only I were well...,' she thought, closing her eyes, the dull ache in her chest not going away.

[Lancaster]

There were things that Lancaster liked to do to assuage his general guilt. Guilt was a default for the musician, and the curse of his path meant that he couldn’t let it go. No matter how much people tried to persuade him. Some nights were worse than others. Some nights, his optimism and good humour won out, and he was able to pull out all the silver linings and gaze at them lovingly. Other nights, he couldn’t help but let his mind drift to all the things that had ever gone wrong. The guilt wrapped around him, and the only way to help it go away was to do something good to counter the bad. To help, whether other people chose to stay ignorant.

One of the charities that Lancaster volunteered for worked with the hospital. There was a ward for the terminally ill; for the children and the adults who had diseases that would not let them live. Although it fed Lancaster’s guilt, to an extent, that he would live forever where these people would not, he knew that he couldn’t give them all everlasting life. They wouldn’t all want it. They wouldn’t all appreciate it. Many of them would not be strong enough to handle the darkness and the violence. But he did what he could.

Visiting hours stretched a little after sunset, and it was during those hours that Lancaster made himself useful. He had his acoustic guitar strapped to his back and a suitcase full of books, or games, or CDs. Every now and again he was able to fix old MP3 players, or discmans. These he gave away for free. It was a well known fact that music was an aphrodisiac. If he could help these poor souls by passing on the gift of music, then so be it. The books that he brought were books that were gathered from the city’s bookshops. Plenty of people were willing to give to charity, even if they were not able to face the dying.

Lancaster finally made it to Aisha’s door; peering in, she looked so forlorn on her bed, clinging to the stuffed rabbit as if it were a friend whose shoulder she could cry on. Knocking, Lancaster cleared his throat.

”Aisha. How are you tonight?” he asked, his Australian accent strong and his voice deep, breaking the silence of the room. He lingered at the door, as always, waiting for the invitation.

[Aisha (DELETED 7303)]

Aisha's eye popped open at the sound of her name, and turned look at the man in the doorway. Her face was suddenly flooded with warmth and excitement, and she propped herself up as hastily as she could. "Lancaster come in! Oh you don't know how glad I am to see you!" Aisha motioned excitedly for him to come in, as she practically radiated with happiness. "I've been well," she chirped, her lips curling into a smile, "And you? Good? I hope good." Lancaster has been one of her most frequent visitors, aside from her brothers and the nurses. He often made his rounds at the hospital, never forgetting to stop by Aisha's room. The young girl couldn't describe how happy this surprise visit made her, but it couldn't be any more obvious than the expression on her face.

Suddenly, Aisha erupted with a fit coughs, covering her mouth with her hands as she folded in two. Each cough shook her tiny body, and the pain was enough to cause tears to well up in her eyes. Once she had finally stopped, Aisha slowly looked up at Lancaster, her eyes wide and apologetic. "Sorry about that, " she said, her voice coarse, " That was probably my fault for getting up too fast." A light laugh escaped her lips as she rubbed her watery eyes. Aisha looked down at her sweater, startled to find 3 drops of crimson blood, fresh against the pale fabric. She quickly rolled up her sleeve, the beeping on her heart monitor speeding up slightly. "I really am glad you came, " she said, settling down into her pillows, her smile a little weary now.

[Lancaster]

That was something Lancaster had to get used to, coming to the terminal ward. The way he could see the smiles on their faces but he knew that they weren’t real, most of the time. He knew that beneath the smiles and the hope that they chose to exude, there was hopelessness. The knowledge that their time on this earth is limited. Some of them were curious. Some of them were angry. Most of them were afraid. Lancaster did his part to try to comfort them; to try to make them genuinely smile every once in a while. To forget the fact that they were dying.

As he stood at the door, before he had knocked, he could feel that the room was filled with a kind of yearning. That was familiar, too. The wish for something different. For a different fate than the one the world had dealt them.

As soon as she saw him, though, the atmosphere shifted. She brightened, and the happiness that he could feel slithering from her side of the room was genuine. What must it be like, to be stuck in this place all day every day? Surrounded by the sick, and these white walls and harsh bright lights. At least she had a window, and the view wasn’t entirely terrible. Lancaster entered, only to watch on, concerned, as Aisha struggled with a coughing fit.

Even though the blood of humans didn’t appeal to Lancaster anymore, he could still smell it as soon as it hit the air. It didn’t matter how subtle Aisha was at trying to hide the spots, Lancaster still knew that they were there. He pulled a chair up to the bed and settled. He liked Aisha. She was one of his favourites.

”Why are you apologising? Don’t be stupid,” he said. She shouldn’t have to apologise for her illness. It wasn’t her fault. ”How are you doing? Had any other company besides that rabbit?” he asked with half a smile. He knew that her brother came to visit every now and again, but he couldn’t stay all the time. ”Were you able to leave the room today?”

[Aisha (DELETED 7303)]

A soft nervous chuckle escaped Aisha's lips, and she looked up at Lancaster through her eyelashes. He always had a way of making her feel better, no matter how her dad had went. Lancaster was a serious faced man, but with a kind disposition. Aisha admired him for visiting as often as he did, and the other patients where more than grateful. "I've been better...but i'm marvelous now that your here," she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear," I slept so much...I almost forget how lonely being awake is!"

Lonely. The word felt like a sting. It wasn't something she wanted to feel, nor was it something she had really understood until this moment. Usually she could ignore it, get lost in her thoughts, pretend she wasn't dying. The pain in her chest ached worst than before, and Aisha winced slightly. She struggled to keep her tears from welling, and feigned a small smile. "Nope just me and vanilla today! Except for a nurse or two....," Aisha paused, biting her lip, "I don't know how much longer i'll be living here...so im happy you visit so often."

Aisha sat silently for a moment, burning a hole into her lap. "Lancaster I...," she paused again, her eyes shifting from left to right, "whats it like to be...like you?" The wavering in her voice must have been obvious, but Aisha had to ask. The question had been itching at the back of her mind for weeks now. It was no mystery what Lancaster was to her, a vampire, a creature of the night. It had startled even her how calm the idea had been to her, and also how inviting. The strength and freedom was a mystery to her, but possibly, it could be to key to her survival.

[Lancaster]

How long had Lancaster been visiting the hospital? A while, now. A couple of years on and off with the charity. Sometimes he was more active, and sometimes due to issues at home, he was forced to take a step back. That was the thing with volunteering. They didn’t expect you to keep strict hours. They knew people had lives outside of their charity work. Lancaster was glad he didn’t have to tell them that, you know, he’d died for a week, thus why he wasn’t around. Because if they’d asked? He couldn’t lie. It was a physical impossibility, so sometimes he had to skirt the truth. Tell just enough of it to leave people guessing, and escape before they could ask more questions. He’d become quite an expert.

Aisha, however, had noticed things that others had not. That, couple with her questions and Lancaster’s blasé attitude toward the Masquerade, had led to a revelation between the two of them. Lancaster revealing what he was, and Aisha somehow accepting it.

Lancaster could feel the loneliness reaching across the room, curling around his heart and tugging at it, like a lone puppy who wanted to play. A frown creased his brow as the question was asked, and Lancaster cleared his throat. The door was still open, and he glanced quickly toward the hallway. But there was no one there; no one eavesdropping.

”It’s hard,” he said, turning back to Aisha. Although his skin might be cold, his eyes were warm, and dancing in the depths of them were the nostalgia and the sorrow that never went away. ”I don’t think it’s ever something I’ll fully come to terms with. I miss being human,” he said. He had to be honest. ”At the same time, it’s kind of… fascinating. I feel like there’s the ability to learn something new every night. I’ve always been a fan of learning,” he said with a small smile. He knew what was coming, somehow. A dying girl was asking him what it was like to be a vampire. To be immortal. What else could that mean?

[Aisha (DELETED 7303)]

Aisha's dark wide eyes traced ever inch of Lancasters face, reading as many emoion as she cool from the times and creases in his skin. She often did this when she was waiting for an important answer, and she almost always could tell from ones expression what the answer was going to be. Lancaster was a bit more difficult than most, but still readable. Still, this time, it Aisha who was furrowing her brows.

From what she knew about vampires, which was very little, Aisha could tell it was serious business. The only vampire she had ever met was Lancaster, who she trusted and admired, but sinister rumors circled around their kind like flies. There was also no avoiding it, blood was their main source of life. The idea of becoming a vampire had burrowed its way inside her after she had known Lancaster was one, and the allure only grew stronger as time passed. She had never been afraid, apprehensive, but never afraid.

Aisha listened intensely to every word Lancaster said, blinking her wide eyes in thought. "What would it take to....," she paused, " become someone like you?" She could till by his expression, Lan already knew what she ment to ask. He could probably smell the longing on her it was so strong, and see it writen all over her face. "Is it better if the person is willing?" She couldn't help it anymore, she wanted to be free from the shackles of her mortality as strongly as a butterfly from a cacoon. "...because im willing..." her voice was fast and whispered, and she had began to twirl a lock of her hair around one of her pale, thin fingers.

[Lancaster]

Lancaster leaned back. He studied Aisha’s features fully. This girl who had known about vampires before he had even come along. He had never asked her how, or why. In this city, more and more humans were becoming savvy to their kind and Lancaster wasn’t as opposed to it as he should be. Somewhere deep down, he almost hoped that they would rise up. Vampires were monsters, many of them. He included himself in that number, sometimes. Something that he tried to fight against; to deny. He helped charities, and he strived to help others as much as he was physically able. He tried to contradict his darker nature, and prove that they could be something worthwhile. Like Sia said – there had to be a way to use their abilities for good, right?

He sighed, and rubbed at his temple. Who was he kidding? Of course this was going to come up. He was a vampire with blood that had healing properties, and he fraternized with a dying girl. He nodded.

”I used to think that those being turned had to be drained dry before they could be turned. After Othella…” he shook his head. His voice was low, a mere mumble. Keeping this conversation low, and between only the two of them. He leaned forward again, all frivolity wiped from his normally genial features. ”To become this… there’s a lot of sacrifice. I can’t lie – sometimes, just sometimes, I think that death would have been better,” he said. It didn’t matter whether he had the ability to lie or not – he wouldn’t have kept the truth from Aisha. She needed to know what she was getting in to.

”As far as I’m concerned, yes. It’s better if they’re willing. I won’t turn anyone, ever again, unless they are willing,” he said. The guilt, otherwise, would cripple him. ”But you need to make sure it’s not just fear of death that makes you willing. If you lose control – and it happens – innocent people can die. The guilt…” he sighed, and shook his head. ”You just need to be sure.”

[Aisha (DELETED 7303)]

Aisha listened tentatively, hardly taking the time to blink. She could feel Lancasters pain, read it plainly on his face. Guilt. It was an oddly powerful emotion, stronger it seemed, than fear. Aisha couldn't tell if she was afraid or not, her emotions rushing and twirling together in glorious chaos. It was strange, but the idea of death had always been seemingly taboo in this culture, but to her, it was always a reality. It tapped lightly at her left shoulder everyday, with every cry of pain she felt as her body consumed itself. Aisha felt a shudder race up her spine as she thought of what this meant. Feeding on human blood. Could she stand it? Was she strong enough to embrace what it meant to be someone like Lancaster?

A slow, cold feeling burrowed in her chest, her mind racing like the heart of a deer. She didn't what to die, that was for sure. Even after all the years of pain, she had never once wanted to die. Aisha thought of her brother, of all the things she wanted to do, and how desperately she wanted to do them. It was obvious, the path of a vampire was not going to be easy, but what were her options? Die frail and alone in this hospital room, with pain on her every breath? No. She would not be the "dying girl" any longer. This was the one time she had the option to take fate in her own hands, to have a choice, and Aisha was going to take it.


"I have sacrificed 19 years of my life to weakness," she paused, a sort of resolution hung on every word, "I want to take this chance, Lancaster....I don't want to be in pain anymore. I want to be free, to run and not get tired, to have friends. You can give me these things." She smiled, a smile that reached her eyes, "This is my choice...you shouldn't harbor any guilt." Aisha looked into the mans eyes, seeing sadness in them, a human sadness. If this is the type of vampire she would become, she was not afraid of it.

With one hand, Aisha brushes hair long dark hair to one side, revealing the pale smooth flesh of her neck. Next, she removed the iv from her arm, since she supposed, she wouldn't need to it anymore. A flicker of a thought passed through her mind like a shooting star; What if I die from this? Aisha had wondering at times if her body would be too weak to accept becoming a vampire, but her commitment was set. She wanted this, she needed, this. Aisha waited silently for Lancaster to begin. 'I wont be the dying girl....,' she repeated those words over and over in her head.