Half Life
Monday 8th June 2009 Part II
Dilation hurts, every time, without exception. Now, more so than ever. I haven't done this in months, and the needle has to fight to slip under the skin. The dull throb returns as my eyes roll upwards and vision slides away from me.
I want to be as pathetic as I feel, so I suppose that's why I've drained every inch of my power away. My cane rests beside my foot, the familiar, slender, wooden handle reassuring me. I am already crippled inside, why can't I go back to being that way physically?
Often, I would write as I waited for Dracula's blood to drain out of me, but now all I find myself able to write is names, over and over and over.
Jonathan, Rupert, Marius... Dracula.
Strange, isn't it, how in the list of people that have hurt me worst, he is the least of them... At least, the way I'm feeling right now he is. But most of all, I've hurt myself. I made myself one promise, and I broke it.
I roll the bullets in my hand. Galvin had them made many years ago from the very last of my human DNA. If I managed to get just one of these into my body, every year I'd lived would catch up with me all at once, until nothing was left but the ashen imprint of what I had been, that would simply scatter in the breeze.
Going to see Galvin would be my final act of submission. I'd already seen what would happen when I met him. The domaneering bastard would get the last laugh, as always. Sooner or later, we all have to realise that whatever you do and however hard you try, the devil will always have the last laugh, without exception.
Telling Marius, no matter how unintentional it had been, was not the sweet release that I had hoped for. Instead, my stomach had tightened and I had been left feeling even worse than before. Knowing that he can't love me back is comparitable to discovering that Jonathan would grow old and die without me. He didn't even get that far...
I always end up crawling back to Galvin. Whatever he does, I always return to see him leaning in the doorway with a smirk on his lips. I never understood why Annika didn't leave my son before now. Quincey didn't love her and would betray her at the drop of a hat, but without him she felt lost and empty.
Luke begged me not to go back to Galvin earlier.
He'll kill you.
I'm more afraid that he won't, that he'll let me suffer like this forever. That's just his way.
I wonder if it hurts, having all those years catch up on you at once. I'd seen it happen to Quincey. Galvin had convinced me he was a monster, and so I let the years catch up with him. In my arms, all I could see was my little boy: the scared child asking for his Father, the brave boy going off to fight in France, the dying soldier in a London hospital, the newborn monstor of the night, the killer, the ashes beneath my fingers.
I have destroyed every shred of family I ever had, and now, it is my turn.
I want to be as pathetic as I feel, so I suppose that's why I've drained every inch of my power away. My cane rests beside my foot, the familiar, slender, wooden handle reassuring me. I am already crippled inside, why can't I go back to being that way physically?
Often, I would write as I waited for Dracula's blood to drain out of me, but now all I find myself able to write is names, over and over and over.
Jonathan, Rupert, Marius... Dracula.
Strange, isn't it, how in the list of people that have hurt me worst, he is the least of them... At least, the way I'm feeling right now he is. But most of all, I've hurt myself. I made myself one promise, and I broke it.
I roll the bullets in my hand. Galvin had them made many years ago from the very last of my human DNA. If I managed to get just one of these into my body, every year I'd lived would catch up with me all at once, until nothing was left but the ashen imprint of what I had been, that would simply scatter in the breeze.
Going to see Galvin would be my final act of submission. I'd already seen what would happen when I met him. The domaneering bastard would get the last laugh, as always. Sooner or later, we all have to realise that whatever you do and however hard you try, the devil will always have the last laugh, without exception.
Telling Marius, no matter how unintentional it had been, was not the sweet release that I had hoped for. Instead, my stomach had tightened and I had been left feeling even worse than before. Knowing that he can't love me back is comparitable to discovering that Jonathan would grow old and die without me. He didn't even get that far...
I always end up crawling back to Galvin. Whatever he does, I always return to see him leaning in the doorway with a smirk on his lips. I never understood why Annika didn't leave my son before now. Quincey didn't love her and would betray her at the drop of a hat, but without him she felt lost and empty.
Luke begged me not to go back to Galvin earlier.
He'll kill you.
I'm more afraid that he won't, that he'll let me suffer like this forever. That's just his way.
I wonder if it hurts, having all those years catch up on you at once. I'd seen it happen to Quincey. Galvin had convinced me he was a monster, and so I let the years catch up with him. In my arms, all I could see was my little boy: the scared child asking for his Father, the brave boy going off to fight in France, the dying soldier in a London hospital, the newborn monstor of the night, the killer, the ashes beneath my fingers.
I have destroyed every shred of family I ever had, and now, it is my turn.