I promised myself I wouldn’t cry today, but I lied. Boarding the airplane by myself, with my parents standing there (my mother was crying, too, and waving like a madwoman), was the strangest feeling in the world. Now I’m flying thousands of feet in the air over the Atlantic Ocean to my new home and I couldn’t feel more alone. All along, I wasn’t expecting it to feel like this. When I applied to Yale – when I decided I wanted to go to school overseas – I hadn’t given much thought to being in such a new place on my own. Now it’s finally hit me: I’m really doing this.

I’ve never even flown in a plane before, let alone flown to another country alone. Mom gave me this silly diary and a scrapbook I’ll probably never fill as a ‘going off to college’ present, but it’s hardly any comfort in a time like this. I’ve never been any good at dealing with my emotions, let alone talking about them or writing them down. How can I be expected to properly document them in some journal while I’m at college in a foreign country? As if anybody could understand half the thoughts jumbling around in my brain. Half the time, it doesn’t make sense to me. But here I am, writing in this stupid book because I’ve got nobody else, and the guy next to me is starting to snore…

All these questions are swirling around in my mind, and I can’t help but picture my parents’ faces as I disappeared down the boarding ramp for my first flight ever. As always, Daddy’s face was hard to read, but I could tell he was going to miss me. He’s always so distracted, but he was there today. Because he knew it was important to me, right? For once, there wasn’t a lab result or unexplainable experiment more important, but I’m finally starting to understand why he does it. Can’t he see that I’m just like him? That I have his passion? Even Mom doesn’t deny it anymore.

And my mother was just as doting and overbearing as always. Did I pack this? Did I have enough of that? It’s almost as if she refuses to believe I’ve grown up despite that I’m leaving for my first semester of COLLEGE, and I know if she could have gone with me, she would have. But she did something even better – she loaded my CD case with some fantastic new music for the journey. She’s always had excellent taste, and really, she spoils me.

I wonder…What is America going to be like? Will it be very different from England? I can’t help but wonder what living on the east coast is going to be like after living in London all my life. Will people think I’m some weird exchange student? What if I hate it?

What if I never want to come back to London again?...

2005

I said goodbye today. Now that the day’s events are finally over and I’m sitting in this house alone, it feels bigger and emptier than it ever did. I had completely forgotten about this silly journal that my mother gave me when I left for Yale, until now, but my loneliness called me up to the attic to drag down the old family picture albums, and I came upon these sad, empty pages and instantly felt the need to fill them. It seems I was just putting away all my old college stuff a few days ago, but in reality, it was really only a few months ago that I moved back into this house. And now, here I am.

None of that seems to matter, anyway…I still can’t believe they’re gone. My parents are dead. I can write the words. I can toss them around in my head. I can even say it out loud, but it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Will it ever? Everything feels so surreal; I half-expect to hear the sound of the piano coming from the den, and it hurts every time I have to remind myself that I’ll never hear my mother play again. I want them back, damnit. It isn’t fair.

I feel so alone. Is this what bitterness is like? Coming home from five years of college overseas, thinking life is really just beginning, and getting this dumped in my lap? I didn’t want to start this part of my life without my parents, with nobody…

Who will be there when I get married? If I ever get married. Not that I’m planning on that happening any time soon. Not after what I did to Johnathon. No, I can honestly say I didn’t love him. But I will fall in love some day, and want to have children. And I know I would want to see them grow up and get married have children of their own. But my parents will miss all that, and I’ll miss having them around because of a bloody stop light. Yes, this must be what bitterness feels like.

Oh, Daddy. We were finally working side by side, in the same lab together. Everything was finally falling into place; everything finally felt right. And now, you’re gone. You’re the reason I’m where I am today – the reason I am who I am. Of course, Mom had a hand in it, with the doting and the piano lessons and attempting to teach me how to cook like her even though I was always horrid at it. And probably always will be…

Oh, my. And now, just look at me. I’m talking to a page, like a madwoman, addressing you as if you’re still here. I’m already losing my mind, and it’s only been three days. What am I going to do without you guys?

This house has become a prison. There are so many memories lingering from when I was little, so many shadows lurking in the corners at night that I can barely sleep anymore. It feels too big, and too empty now. Maybe it’s the unoccupied bedroom at the end of the hall, just a few doors down from my own, or maybe it’s the simple fact that it was my parents’ house, and they’re gone now. Either way, this house doesn’t and will never feel like it belongs to me. It was ours. Our family’s. And no family occupies this place anymore. It sounds silly, but without them, this just isn’t home any longer.

It doesn’t help that constant reminders of their deaths follow me everywhere I go. It’s only been a few weeks, and it’s not as if I expected to bury their memory and move on so soon, but I didn’t expect the wound to be torn open everywhere I went, I suppose. Daddy’s colleagues treat me like a walking plague, despite being at the funeral. Flowers arrive at the house unexpectedly, just when I think that I’ve heard from the last of their friends.

And yesterday, I received a card and flowers from Johnathon, saying he was sorry to hear about my parents and that he hoped I was doing alright. It was impossible not to cry again. His note made me feel more sorry for myself than ever. I’m not even sure who told him, but I suppose I can’t help but admire his tenacity. I can’t help but think that if I were in his position, I wouldn’t have had the nerve to send me flowers. Even considering the circumstances. I don’t deserve his sympathy after what I did. And now, what was it for? I turned down moving to America to live with him, and for what? To work in London? As if there wouldn’t be openings in Connecticut. No, I’ve always known I would work with my father, because that’s why I went into this field, isn’t it? Did I turn him down to be with my parents? What a cruel twist of fate that turned out to be. Now I’m all alone, and I did this to myself. I have nobody to blame but Dr. Alexia Riley. HA!...

It would be rude not to send him a ‘thank you’ card, I suppose. But for some silly reason, I feel like that would be admitting defeat to this whole thing with Johnathon. Does that make sense? Probably not. It would be extremely childish, and rude, to ignore his gesture. It was so considerate of him. I’m such a bitch for even thinking of ignoring his note. It’s just miserable, knowing that I messed up. I don’t want to face it. Not even in the form of a simple ‘thank-you.’ I guess I should, anyway, and just hope he doesn’t see it as an opening for discussion. Because, while I may realize, now, that I messed up when I left Johnathon, I could never go back to the east coast. It’s too late to swallow my pride – not that he’d even want me back. It’s been months since we’ve spoken, anyway.

Oh well. Soon this will all be over and I’ll be able to get on with my life. Right? Maybe I should think about –and just writing the words are hard – selling the house. It’s difficult to fathom, but I’m just not happy here anymore. I think I’m going to talk to Daddy’s lawyer and see what he says. Moving into something smaller –and new to me – might be the change I need. It’s not like I need all this extra room. And this house is like a monument to them. I could save a little memorabilia and get rid of the rest. Yes. This actually sounds like a decent plan.

And I can do this…right?

I can’t believe I finally sold the house. It took a few months, but everything’s official now. I don’t even have keys to it, anymore. The buyers were a cute pregnant couple with a young boy, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of myself, in a way, and my family when we first moved into the townhouse. It was a little sad, and difficult to say goodbye to the home I grew up in, but I knew it would be. I’m still sure that I did the right thing, and I’m happy I’m moving on. It was, simply, something that needed to be done after all that has happened. No looking back now, right?

The holidays were hard; as hard as I expected them to be, I guess. I’ve never spent a single holiday alone, now that I think of it. Not ever. Even if Daddy was gone, there was always Mom. And when I was away at Yale, I flew back to London every year to be with my parents, or at least, my mother. It was hard not to think about them during the holidays, despite the months that have passed, but I’m sure that happens for a lot of people. I found an old bottle of wine (lucky me!) that had survived the move and, at least, had that to keep me company on Christmas. It didn’t turn out to be as good of an idea as I thought it’d be, though. It only served to depress me by making me nostalgic and teary-eyed for the past. At least there was nobody around to see me in hysterics.

The office party for New Year’s was a little better. I’ve been managing to keep myself busy, between working my ass off in hopes of a promotion and moving into my shiny new one-bedroom loft in the middle of town, and got talked into going with some of the other lab techs despite that I really didn’t want to. I know they all think I’m wound too tight and that I work too much. I have no doubt that most of them were just curious to see what I was like half-drunk. In the end, I’m glad that I went. Despite that the party wasn’t the most exciting event of my life, I’m sure it was better than sitting at home, alone, with a bottle of wine.

And one of the other techs asked me out. As in, on a date.

Yes. NEWS FLASH: Alexia Riley has a DATE! For the first time in almost a year. I’ve been so caught up since I returned to London, with everything – with going to work with Daddy, with the accident and then the funeral, and then selling the house and moving into the new loft…And when things finally started winding down I just slipped into Work Mode and blocked everything else out of my life. How do I do that without even noticing that I do it? It’s becoming frighteningly obvious that I’m a lot more like my father than I realized with every waking day. Work has consumed me so much lately that I’ve barely noticed Geoffrey, or his subtle flirting. Or how entirely charming he can be.

Anyway, we’re going out this weekend. I’m a little anxious about dating someone from work, but I suppose that only means that I don’t have to explain how serious I am about my career to him. If he’s paid attention, he already knows. We’ll see.

So. I’ve learned that dating colleagues is never, under any circumstances, a good idea. It was actually going rather well for most of the night. Geoffrey really is charming, and he deserves to be where he is because he’s rather intelligent. But I’ve set my sights much higher than lab technician level, and I think he was offended by that, for some reason. The evening went sour somewhere between the meatballs and dessert, and all because I announced that I was going for the next open position – the one with the office. Can he really blame me for aiming higher than double-checking the leading scientist’s less dignified test results?

It was nice, in a way, to spend the night away from work and still get to discuss it, think about it, and, in a small way, because I was with a colleague, get a small dose of it. I was with another human being, I was mostly relaxed, and I was talking about scientific data like a complete bore. But I felt in my element, sadly, and I think Geoffrey understood that, as well. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Somewhere in life, Science became more than a career path for me. It became a life choice. But I’m starting to feel like a Nun, because I’ve distanced myself from anyone that’s ever bothered to try to get close to me, anyway. At this rate, I’ll never have friends, let alone a boyfriend. How can I expect to be happy? Does work make me happy enough that it will never matter whether I have a family or not? Whether or not I fall in love?

I should have been talking to Geoffrey about normal things, like my favorite food, which definitely has nothing to do with Science, unless we’re running tests on it. Or color – without the details about the light spectrum. Or sports, not that I know a damn thing about that entirely non-scientific subject. He didn’t even get out of the car when he dropped me off, after dinner. He told me he’d see me at work, and gave me an almost sad, knowing smile that made me want to scream, because I knew it was my fault that the whole date had been a failure. When we should have been sharing an awkward kiss while I considered whether it was too forward or not to invite him inside. Not just an incredibly awkward moment…

I really blew it, didn’t I?

I almost forgot about this old thing again. It’s hard to believe that it’s been nearly a year that I’ve neglected it despite my promise after Mom died, but it’s getting harder and harder to keep up with. Especially now that I got my big PROMOTION. At last. After being a lab tech for almost two years, I felt like it was long overdue. There’s just something so much more dignified about being a real scientist, I think. I’m completely excited, and needless to say (or write, rather), overly busy lately.

Going from a lab aid of sorts and running tests for the company’s scientists to being one of the company’s scientists is big leap, but I’m certainly loving it. Despite struggling to keep up with the new workload, it’s a pretty fabulous feeling. I’ve had to stay late most evenings just to get the projects I’ve been assigned done, but I imagine that, eventually, I’ll get used to it. Most of the other research scientists scram as soon as their shift ends, and I can’t help but feel like I’m dragging behind, staying into the late hours.

But one of my favorite perks of my new promotion is having my own office now, and not some cubicle next to Geoffrey. And it is fantastic, even if the view isn’t. Ever since our failure of a date last year, I’m almost positive that he’s warned all the other males in the building not to ask me out. And there have been a few awkward moments when I’ve entered the break room and found it suddenly hushed and wondered: Were they all just talking about me? I’ve never been one for gossip, but it’s a dreadful feeling when you’re the subject, all over some lame date with a coworker.

Either way, I feel like things are going well. At least, my job is. I suppose that’s what matters.

Growing up, I never would have imagined just how much I would end up being like my father. If anything, I expected to turn out more like my mother, especially considering our mutual adoration for the world of music. After all the time we spent together, and all that she taught me, I could see a lot of her in myself, I suppose. I loved playing the piano with her, and being silly and dancing and singing (even if I was awful at it) as a little girl. Thinking of it now makes me miss her terribly, despite that I’ve come to realize that I am, oddly enough, my father’s daughter. It was a foolish belief, I realize, considering how much I coveted my father’s affections. So much more than my mother’s, but I suppose that’s because I wasn’t starved for her attention, like I was his.

He was gone a lot, on business trips for the very corporation I work for today because he was more highly recognized than I am...yet. The longest trip I remember him going on was a two-week long stint in Japan when I was still fairly young. Despite how often he was away, it only made me long for him more. His absences and the absence of his attention caused me to need him more when he was there. And I can only assume now that this has something to do with the obsession that has grown within me – an obsession that reminds me a lot of my father, in fact. It began as an infatuation with impressing my father, and now it has grown into a chronic devotion for what I do.

Or something slightly more severe.

I haven’t slept in my bed for the last three nights, and it wasn’t intentional at all. As each evening came to a close and I sat in my office finishing up data sheets or summing up test results or filing some other tedious paperwork, I just lost track of time and BAM! The next thing I knew it was six or seven in the morning and I was waking up with lines of my face or ink stains on my cheek. I look awful, sneaking out and coming home for a quick shower and –if I’m lucky- a couple hours of sleep before I head back in. I’m sure the others have noticed, but so far, I’ve managed to avoid their stares.

For the first time in what feels like ages, I’m sitting at home tonight, looking around a house that feels almost like a stranger to me and wondering how my father kept his sanity throughout his busy life. For a brief moment, a temporary lapse in sanity myself, I wondered how he did it: how he balanced a family and his overwhelming career. But then, it occurred to me that he never really balanced us well at all. We never orbited around him, his family and his work life, in perfect unison. His universe mainly consisted of conventions, business trips, and research laboratories, and –when he had time – us. It wasn’t as harmonious as my parents made it seem with their calm natures and my mother with her willingness to accept things for the way they were. But me – I don’t even have a family, and I couldn’t imagine trying to throw one into the orbit. Where would anyone else fit into my schedule? It would be selfish. It was selfish for my father. But that doesn’t make me feel any better about it.

My career is finally heading in the right direction, on the path that I worked so hard to reach. But I can’t help but stare at my wrinkled scrubs and wonder how many sacrifices I’ll make, without so much as a second thought, along the way. Is all this really worth being alone for the rest of my life?

The money is good. But is it really worth it? Should I really be asking myself the same questions for months at a time? Doubting myself at every turn? I love it – there is no doubt about how much passion and dedication I put into these research projects. Neither my colleagues nor my superiors ever deny that. But I can see the way they look at me, as if I’m always taking it too seriously. They watch me with an expression of respect deeply overshadowed by sympathy. Or so it seems. I might be becoming paranoid again. But either way, I don’t like their stares, or the way they tell me to take a break.

I’m just waiting on something big. And all these little projects are just fillers, in the meantime. But if I half-ass it, I won’t be given the big projects when they hand them out, so I tell myself that I have to work hard now. I have to give it my all, and my efforts will be rewarded later. By more rewarding work. Maybe I’m kidding myself. But I know that when the time comes, I won’t be overlooked for the big one.

Who’s laughing now, Geoffrey?

Vampires are...real. I’m still stunned, as if I half-expect someone to come back onto the news, laughing, and admitting that this was all some huge misunderstanding, or petty prank. There are no words to explain the way I feel right now. I cannot fathom, nor begin to understand, what this means for the world, let alone London. Vampires? The dark, fanged creatures of scary stories? The mythological, immortal beasts that thrive on human blood and cannot bear the sunlight? Is this really happening? Is this really possible? Who will reveal themselves next, werewolves and centaurs?

This is huge. On so many levels.

But mostly, I cannot help but think about what this means for the world of Science. Everything we knew just went up in flames. I can’t wait to examine one of these guys! And at the same time, I’m completely terrified of the mere thought of coming within twenty feet of one. I mean – are they really the living dead?! Does their body still need air? The study of living cells –and my whole college degree- is next to meaningless with this revelation, or at least, going to need some serious editing. There are so many emotions swirling around in my head; I am undeniably intrigued, completely alarmed, and utterly frightened by this news. My scientific mind is aching with curiosity for the things to come, but everything else in me is completely afraid of what this could mean for our way of life.

Is it wrong to be so terrified of change?

With vampires (and this still sounds so weird to say and mean in a nonfictional way) suddenly becoming conspicuous and manifesting themselves in society, how long will it before I am working alongside one? Before I’m ordering coffee from one? Before I jog passed an immortal in the woods and fear for my life? Will they be easily distinguished from humans? Will crime in this city evolve? All these anxieties are making my stomach churn. I don’t even want to think about it anymore, but this is definitely not something I can just turn away from. A new species has just emerged into our world, whether we told make-believe stories about them before, or not. It’s hard not to wonder how they will fit into the order of things, and how they will affect our daily routines. This is, simply, amazing.

If only my father had been alive to see this.

I met a vampire; one of the most extraordinarily intriguing creatures of his kind, if I say so myself. And the vampires are anything but ordinary – they’re all intriguing to me. Since their debut, the immortals have impacted the city in both positive and negative ways, naturally. They’ve immersed themselves into our lives by increasing the job rate as well as the economy with their incredible knowledge, obtained from centuries (for some) of living and learning. However, they’ve also completely devastated the crime rate; the vampires’ insatiable thirst for blood and deadly means of obtaining it have been terrorizing London as of late. And of course, they’ve changed Science in ways I could have only dreamed about. I mean, they have the ability of cell regeneration. It’s impossible not to be utterly curious, but it’s easy to ignore their presence when standing within close proximity. Because I’m a bloody coward.

But, they are dark; different. Definitely stronger, and more prone to violence. In my own way, I’m still a little terrified of them, and, at the very least, very intimidated. They have always been the stuff of nightmares, and for me, most vampires have been completely unapproachable so far.

But not Aidan Kellan. I first saw him at the Library, of all places. He grabbed my attention almost immediately, when I first heard him speak. I couldn’t help but notice how mannerly and polite he was, especially when addressing those around him. He was visibly more docile than any of the vampires I’ve come across, and I caught myself watching him intently after that. More like, staring. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I’m pretty sure it became something like stalking as I followed Aidan clumsily around the Library.

Tonight, I went to return the book I checked out, and he was there again. As luck would have it. I’m not going to call it fate, mostly because I overheard the attendant telling him when the book was due back and made a point to go there tonight. He just happened to be there at about the same time as last time. Is that… awkward of me? I can’t help but find him charming. Watching his exchanges with those around him, I’m almost certain that he would be perfect for the side-project I’ve been planning. And by perfect, I mean ‘not too intimidating’ to approach or deal with for the repeated sessions, like most of the other vampires I’ve come across.

Either way, while I was following him around tonight, my spying skills slipped up, if only for a moment. I was spacing out, thinking about how I could approach him to ask him if he’d be interested in ‘volunteering’ for my research project, when I walked right into him. Like a complete idiot. It’s a good thing he can’t read minds, because having him know what I was thinking would have made me blush ten times harder than I already was for being such a klutz. I know I couldn’t help but think that, in addition to being completely charming (for a vampire), he was utterly handsome. I was being a moron, standing there and saying nothing, like usual. So he picked up the book I had been carrying (I had no idea what it was, really. It was just a prop, at this point) and handed it to me, apologized ever-so-politely with the most effortless smile, and went on his way. Leaving me standing there like the clumsy fool that I was, wondering how I could ever expect to approach him and ask him about my research if I could barely manage to apologize when I had practically knocked him over.

But alas, I am not as sneaky as I like to think. Before he left the Library tonight, he came over and introduced himself. I’m almost positive there were the hints of a knowing smile on his face, but it could be my imagination getting the best of me. Either way, I’m more convinced than ever that Aidan Kellan would be the perfect vampire blood donor for my research. I already got the grant, and the permission to use the labs at work as long as it’s on my own time. It’s not like I don’t know where to find this vampire; I just need to work up the courage to ask him…

The sessions with Aidan have been going well. He’s unlike any vampire I’ve ever met before, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve become at least a little fond of him. Truthfully, he’s probably come to know me as well as anyone else ever could. We spend a considerable amount of time together, even if the sessions are fairly short, compared to how I spend the rest of my time. Sometimes he lingers a little longer than necessary, or I get distracted by our conversation. And I know by now that he’s adept enough to notice some of my…habits pertaining to work. Still, it isn’t very often that he comments about it, and when he does speak, he’s always very friendly and polite. I’ve even become rather self-conscious around him. But I’m sure it’s because, from time-to-time, he’s the first one to inform me that I have a smear on my cheek, or that my goggles are still on my head.

As far as our work together goes, everything is actually going fantastically. I’m pretty sure I’ll be set to publish the second set of results from his blood-work this week. I’m pretty excited. A woman from a company called Ardent Labs requested a meeting with me. My work is finally getting me noticed! Isn’t this the recognition I longed for, I worked so hard for? I’m pretty excited. Apparently it’s an interview; and it’s set up for next week. I think Aidan will be happy for me. He’s been pretty supportive, almost like a friend.

Looks like it’s on to the next big thing, for me.

Everything has changed.

I’m afraid to go to sleep at night. I’m terrified of being outside of my home past twilight. I’ve never felt this afraid of the dark before. Most of all, I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, because now I can’t undo it. I keep seeing that girl’s face, and thinking: I left her there, too. I’m just as guilty as the vampire that left her there to rot. I was so concerned with preserving my own life after Kenith caught me that everything else became unimportant. What if she had a family, and they’re still looking for her? Don’t they deserve closure, at the very least?

I could have given that to them. But I’m too afraid to go back to that place; that dark alleyway. What if he follows me and suspects what I’m up to? And he could, because I belong to him now. I’ve always been such a coward. Or maybe it’s too late anyway, and I’m just being selfish and worried about easing my own conscience at a time when it would provide only a small amount of peace amidst an ocean of turmoil. It’s not an easy thing to let go, seeing someone die.

Neither is knowing that there’s a vampire out there somewhere, just waiting until he’s thirsty for my blood again. The thought sends shivers down my spine, knowing that he could show up at any time. He told me I ’tasted good’, like it as a compliment. I suppose, for Kenith, it was. But all I can think of now is the fact that I foolishly bound myself to this vampire, and there’s nothing I can do about it but wait. I know it’s better than the alternative, which was being killed or taking the chance of running (and being killed, anyway), but that doesn’t make it any better. I’m this monster’s new play-thing, and there’s no telling what he has in store.

My future isn’t looking too bright, all of the sudden.

Kevin finally talked me into taking a ride on his motorcycle. Though, considering how hectic our schedules have been with work, it didn’t take him as long as I told him it would to get me on that blasted bike. Which was forever. The ride itself was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Of course, Kevin found it hilarious that I was holding on for dear life and screaming in terror almost the whole ride. And in the end, despite how much I dreaded riding his bloody bike, I actually found it uncharacteristically fun, and cool. Which is soo not me, at all. Damn him.

We ended up eating take-out at his place afterwards, which definitely is me. All the way. That was, technically, our fifth date. Not that I’m counting or anything. I’ve just been lonely for a lot longer than I would recommend to any other human being. But I think this means it’s safe to say that Kevin is officially my boyfriend.

And I so did not just squeal like a teenage girl, either.

I’m babysitting tonight. Yes. Actual, living children! I think I’ve done a decent job so far, considering that I’ve never really been around kids aside from the little time I spent around Paige’s little girl. I mean, I let them watch a lot of television, and we ate pizza (which I imagine Sofia won’t be too thrilled about), and I gave them ice cream afterwards…but that’s not all that bad, right? After all, they seemed pretty content. The boys, Jacob and Noah, definitely seemed to approve. And they are cute little darlings, I have to admit. But still, I’m glad they’re finally asleep. I can only handle so much of being ‘in over my head’ for a night. Besides, Ruth made quite a mess out of her pepperonis and cheese (I’ll be cleaning that off the walls later…).

Being around them makes me wonder what, say, Kevin and I would be like as parents. I know it’s far too early in our relationship to even consider something like that, but I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be a mother. I’ve always put the thought completely out of my mind – always thought kids just aren’t for me. But after spending the evening with Ruthie (yes, I’m calling her that. Don’t tell Sofia), I feel like…something is missing in my life. Is this it? Are children what’s missing in the equation? I’m far from perfect, but, I mean…there’s a reason my father wanted a family. Right? I could be better than him. I understand sacrifice. And I did enjoy tonight, after all.

I’m really surprised Sofia considered me at all, actually. I’m pretty sure I’ve told her before that I’ve literally spent almost no time around kids. But I’m sure I was a last resort, knowing Sofia. It’s been awhile since she’s asked me to cover her shift at work, too, now that I think about it. I can tell she’s been stressed out lately. She’s had a lot going on, with the custody battle and all, I guess. She actually asked me about being a character witness the other day. Me! Testifying for her character. Fancy that. I haven’t the slightest idea what I would say about Sofia, but I can be sure of one thing – these kids are crazy about her. And obviously, she’s nuts about them – she talks about them at work, sometimes. She’s quite different from the Sofia I first met, you know…

Maybe she’d actually consider covering for me for a change. I made quite a mess the other night with Kevin, and I could definitely use the time to fix things. Everything seemed to be going so well with us, but ever since I told him about Kenith, it’s been completely different. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, confessing to something I had pretty much been withholding from him. Something big. Since being a pet isn’t like admitting you’re allergic to cats. And I suppose, I didn’t expect him to be happy about it, either. Telling your boyfriend that you, technically, belong to another man - a vampire - probably wouldn’t go over well in any circumstance. But I probably should have told him sooner, I guess. I can’t argue that. With Kenith, it was different. It’s not as easy to hide things from a vampire. Especially when he can just drop by any time he likes.

It’s obvious that the best thing is to do my best to make sure the two never meet one another. I’m afraid of what Kenith would do to Kevin. He’s so…possessive and nonchalant, as if human life means nothing. And Kevin means, literally, nothing to him. At least, with me - Kenith sees value in my blood. And considering how Kevin feels about the whole situation – it’s probably just best to avoid the confrontation that’s bound to happen.

Oh.. Noah’s calling for me. Back to business.

Kenith tried to rape me tonight. The only thing that spared me was retracting his invitation into my house, and even that was a close call. He almost dragged me out of the door with him in his fury; it was pure luck that I managed to wriggle out of his grasp before demanding that he leave. I really think that the only thing that saved me was his surprise. But I could tell he was furious, despite that he was in so much pain that he was forced to leave. Now I haven’t a clue what to do, because I’m sure the second I step foot out of this house, he’ll be waiting for me.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, but I guess I always thought I’d get lucky and escape this damn ‘contract’ before anything serious ever really ever happened. Instead it’s been a little over a year and he still reminds me regularly that I belong to him. And ever since him and Bill broke up (which I’m completely baffled by, but don’t have the courage to ask him about, by the way) his visits have become more frequent, almost like I’m the substitute for his new loneliness. Until tonight, I actually thought that there was a chance that Kenith and I could become something resembling friends. Or at least, I thought we were becoming somewhat civil. Especially considering the way Bill and I seemed to click after Kenith practically forced me to meet him. As funny as it sounds, I can’t help but like him. If only a little, and definitely more than Kenith.

And with Kevin in and out of town, on duty for days, sometimes a week, at a time, it’s gotten pretty lonely for me at times. Over the last year I’ve tried my best to keep those two apart…but Kenith is so possessive, it almost seems like he purposely chooses the most inconvenient times to search me out. I’ve become so paranoid that it puts a strain on the time that Kevin and I actually do have. And now this. I can’t tell him about what happened – he’ll go nuts, and do something really stupid. I hate keeping things from him, but when it comes to Kenith, it’s always been difficult. It’s for his own good, anyway. It’s not like I’m keeping hurtful secrets – and it’s not like Kenith accomplished anything. Though he certainly did try. I don’t want Kevin to get hurt over me. I’ve become too fond of him.

No. I have to handle this one by myself. Maybe it’s time to talk to Bill. He’s the only one that I know that could ever talk some sense into Kenith. After this, I might need him, anyway. Maybe he can convince Kenith to let me go, once and for all? It seems far-fetched, but maybe –just maybe- if I try to talk some sense into Bill, Kenith will be thankful enough to let me go. I just have to figure out what went wrong and convince them to fix it so Kenith will stop taking his misery out on me. I’d like to think Bill wouldn’t want Kenith hurting me, anyway.

But maybe that’s wishful thinking, and I’m getting myself way in over my head. Again.

What a mess. I’ve really screwed this one up, big time. Going to Bill was a big mistake, though I have to say, I’m glad he was there to protect me from the wrath that is Kenith. I should have expected that Kenith would follow me, would find me as soon as I left the safety of the house he wasn’t allowed to enter anymore. Although, I couldn’t have expected him to be so furious about me going to see Bill, of all people – couldn’t have predicted that he would suspect something totally different from what it actually was.

How could he really assume that I was secretly seeing Bill? When I have Kevin!

Not that it matters. It doesn’t take much to infuriate that vampire, and as soon as he saw who I was with, he tried to attack me. Kenith attacked me! Under the assumption that Bill and I had something going on, according to his immediate outburst. Though, I think, at that point, he didn’t need much provocation at all. He was just pissed because nothing seemed to be going his way, if you asked me. Luckily for me, Bill was there to save me. Not that I’m happy about causing a fight between two vampires or anything, particularly those two. But I’d rather not be mauled by Kenith in all his misplaced fury. Couldn’t he see that I was trying to do something good?! Of course, there were ulterior motives, but it was still a good deed. Gone terribly wrong.

I have a few scrapes and bruises that need to be healed before Kevin returns from his current stint. Luckily, I have Ardent and Sofia for that. Yeah – I don’t plan on telling him about this one, either. There’s a huge part of me that wonders how good of a person, or girlfriend, I really am if I keep all these secrets from him, even if I think they are for his own good. I really do care about him, a lot. But lying to him, even by omitting, doesn’t make that very obvious. I know he’d be furious, at me and Kenith. And probably Bill, too. Though I owe my life to that vampire, personally. I can’t help but think that keeping all this drama from his is for the best. I don’t want him to get hurt. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him because of me. The less he knows, the better. Right?

So, obviously, Bill didn’t talk Kenith into letting me go as his pet. I guess brawling your ex-lover leaves little time for chit-chat. So that plan majorly failed. Although I think they ended up making up after the big battle, when Bill got to explain a little, I suppose. Maybe this will earn me Kenith’s favor back after all that happened. Hopefully, between all the making up, Bill puts in a good word.

I didn’t stick around to watch that part.

It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve seen or heard from Kevin. I would say I’m beginning to worry, but I’m past that now. Really, I’m freaking out at this point. Just a little. We’ve been together over a year and a half. He never goes this long without calling me, at the very least. And he’s never been away for this long…

Oh, Kevin. Where are you…?

He’s gone. He’s really dead. I can roll these words around in my head, too, but I can’t face them any more than when my parents died. Because I am, and always will be, a coward. Because death terrifies me, yet it seems to surround me. Because it was just too soon, again. Is there just something about me - something that attracts utter gloom and sadness? Am I doomed to always suffer for some unknown reason? It just…isn’t fair. He’s gone, and it just isn’t bloody fair.

We were together just short of two years, and I’m sitting here, waiting for the clock to count down the minutes until I leave for his funeral. All these thoughts tumble around in my mind, and I just feel so guilty. I lied to him. I kept things from him. Mostly concerning Kenith and things that happened, because I knew Kevin would never understand, but still. It doesn’t make me feel any better now. And there are other things. Kevin told me he loved me, and I said it back without hesitation, because I thought I knew what I was doing. All along, I’ve believed in it, and my feelings for him. But now that he’s gone, I sit and question our relationship and the way I felt because of the things I did and the guilt haunting me. And I can’t help but wonder – did I? Did I really love Kevin?

Just because I said it doesn’t mean I understood what I was saying. Really felt it. I see that, now. And now that I sit here, analyzing my feelings for him - and my honesty with him - I don’t think I did. I know I didn’t. And that makes it that much worse, doesn’t it? That I said something I didn’t mean – something so cruel. Another lie that I unconsciously told him. And here I go, off to his military send-off, where they’ll give me his flag afterwards. Because I was all he had left. And he was all that I had. And I was a shitty girlfriend, even if he didn’t really know it. I was lucky to have him. And he was lucky to have died oblivious to my faults, I suppose. Even if it wasn’t very fair to him.

Life isn’t fair.

Still, I’m really going to miss him. And I did care about him, even if I had my own strange way of showing it. Nobody’s ever made me laugh like he has. I’ll miss that the most, I think. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was…something. Goodbye, Kevin.