Immortality Meant Never Dying
I
This story begins a long time ago, in fact a few centuries ago. The girl we’re about to meet is one that would succumb to a man and then fight her way to get her own life back.
Carmilla grew up in a wealthy family in Styria, Austria. Her parents were never able to say no to her. She was spoiled and didn’t mind anything but her own existence. Her parents gave her all she ever could wish for and all she did wish for, they never realised why, but deep down they were afraid of how Carmilla would react if all her privileges were taken from her. One day in Carmilla’s 16 year of living her mother became pregnant with her unborn sister. Carmilla realised what was going on and became deadly jealous. She knew that her privileged life would be over when she became the big sister. She knew that her time had come to find a husband that her parents would just marry her off to, and it would be someone that she didn’t know. Though her time had not really come yet, she knew that it would soon come. It would come as soon as she turned 18. She was sure of it. But none the less her father had already mentioned to her mother that Carmilla was ready to find a man and get married, and that she had to attend fine balls to show the men that she was allegeable. Carmilla hadn’t been in the living room when he had said it, but she had heard every single spoken word from outside of the closed doors. She never mentioned to anyone that she had overheard the conversation. She pretended she hadn’t heard anything about it at all. After that episode of hearing something not meant for her ears yet she began to close herself in her own little world, staying in her room and only coming out when the servants called her saying the dinner was ready, or that any type of meal was ready. Her parents didn’t understand what was happening they didn’t know what was wrong, they had tried everything, but Carmilla either didn’t answer them when they called to her, or only answered with very short sentences. Her parents were out of ways to reach her, and with Carmilla’s mother growing bigger and bigger from one day to another, they decided to take action. On the day that Carmilla turned 17, they told her what she was supposed to do as a woman. What Carmilla’s mother herself had done. Carmilla was angrier than ever before. She yelled at her parents and ran to her room. They didn’t even reach to tell her that a gentleman had invited her to a ball to ask for her hand. The ball was to take place in a mansion a little outside of Styria. A few days before the ball was to take place, she was finally told and with her mother lying in bed because of the upcoming birth of her sister. She wanted with all her heart to say no, but her father had already promised that she would be there. Carmilla was devastated. She had never thought that her father would force her to go when she didn’t want to. She had thought that she would twist him around her little finger, she always had been able to before, but not this time. She didn’t want to leave her precious sweet life behind. She knew that she would never see one single shadow of her old life, if she attended that ball. Her life would be altered and she wouldn’t have the power to change it to fit her own liking. She was furious with her parents. They were willing to take her life from her and give her away, just like that, with a push out the door. She sat down on a high-backed chair for a long time, several hours passed by into the night. She needed an escape plan. She thought it through more than once, but couldn’t find one loop hole. It made her even more furious that they had sealed her faith so well. The longer she sat there the more angry she became, and she just let the anger possess her without thinking.
It had begun to rain outside, making it impossible to look out at the landscape and see a clear picture of what was out there. The thunder rolled over the sky, while the lightning lit the landscape time after time. Carmilla didn’t notice it. She was too occupied by trying to forge a plan to how she was going to get away from it all, even though she new it was hopeless. She wanted to get away from her treacherous family that she now hated like the plague, away from all the known memories and the guys she knew secretly had been asking her father for her hand. The hatred towards her family grew bigger second after second, minute after minute. How could they treat her like that? She thought. It made her eyes glow red, red with hatred and sadness. Her facial expression that used to be sweet and sensitive was now inconsiderate, and almost scary to look at. Her hands were pressed so hard, her white bones almost were visible from under her pale skin. Suddenly the door opened. One of her mother’s servants popped her head inside.
“Mademoiselle?” that was the only thing the servant got to say before Carmilla was over her. Carmilla scratched and hit the girl, until the girl lay unconscious in the floor. Carmilla looked at the unconscious body of the servant, had she really been able to do that? Carmilla stood up and looked frightened, not at the girl that lied in front of her, but at her own hands. She could see the girl’s blood under her long fingernails and smeared on her hands. Her hands were shaking. She stood still for a little while and tried to pull herself together again. She knew what to do now. She walked to her drawer. She was looking for something hidden in her clothes. She found it and took it up. It was a knife. It had never been used before. She picked up her bag and put the knife in it, and she then moved out of her room.
As she was standing outside her room she cast one last glance back at it, closed the door and then walked the corridor to her parents’ room. She knew that her mother lay in there in great pain. The birth of her sister had apparently begun. Carmilla stopped in the doorway to the room. Her glance passed several objects and then stopped. She didn’t look at her mother but at the huge painting over the bed. She had always admired that particular painting. She had always loved to look at it, because every single time she had looked at it, she had seen something new. She had seen something special that she wouldn’t have noticed before, not in a million years, like it was only just painted on the picture. Her eyes caught every detail of the picture. It was as if the painting took the colours of the mood around the house. She used to see a woman leaning over a cradle with a little child in it. She used to think that she was the little child herself, and that her mother was the woman leaning over her in a protective way. But this time she saw something different, something dreadful. She saw a dead infant with its mother looking at it without sorrow. The mother was just looking blankly at the dead child. The colours of the painting used to be cheerful and bright but were now, in Carmilla’s eyes, murky and gloomy. Carmilla stepped into the room, her eyes fixed on the painting. She reached the bed and sat down. She finally placed her glance at her mother, for one last time. She reached one hand in her bag. She was holding the knife in a very tight grip. She tried to find the courage to do what she wanted to do. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed. She took her mothers hand with her one free hand. Her mother looked up at her with great happiness.
“I hope you’re not angry with us for placing you in a position like that” her mother said, with a painful smile. Carmilla closed her eyes. She couldn’t do it if she looked at her mother at the same time.
“Sorry mum, but this is something I have to do!” She said and opened her eyes again, this time fixed on her mothers wrist. She took the knife and cut. Carmilla saw the blood from the wrist. Her mother screamed in pain. She tried but couldn’t get up because of the heavy weight of the baby she was still carrying. Carmilla stood up and looked at the blood that was soaking the fine cotton sheets, before she realized that she had to disappear as fast as possible before her deed was discovered by her father or one of their servants. She didn’t want to get caught. God would punish her for killing her mother. She hurried out the door and ran through the big mansion and out in the rain.
She ran as fast as she could towards the forest. She knew that she could hide there. She reached the forest and forced her way past branches, trees and bushes. The branches scratched her skin and gave her deep cuts on her arms, hands and face. Her beautiful dress was torn apart and the trees clanged on to her dress several times. Behind her pieces of fabric from her dress still hang on to the branches. But she didn’t notice. She just ran. She reached a cliff, where she stopped right on the edge. Her torn dress was soaked in the rain, and fine little drops of blood faintly coloured the dress where she had cut herself. A pair of blood drops dripped from her one fingertip down on a little fragile white lily, and instantly coloured it in a beautiful and shining blood red colour. She didn’t mind her scratches, her blood. She didn’t even notice the deep cuts on her arms. She didn’t feel that she was slowly getting weaker. She didn’t notice that she was loosing too much blood. The anger and sadness was the only thing she could feel. She wanted to get away. She wanted to end her life. A strange need to hurt herself even more found its way through her mind. It had found its way through the anger and the salty tears that was running down her cheeks. The cliff in front of her was looking almost too inviting for her. It needed her to jump, to make an end to it all.
“This is what you want. This is what everyone wants you to do. Jump! Save them the trouble and do it yourself!” The voice in her head sounded like her own. That was what scared her the most. She knew that everyone wanted her to jump. After what she had done, she didn’t see anyone that wanted her to live on.
“You’re a murderer, a loser, a zero! You’re nothing. Jump!” The voice was getting louder. Carmilla looked down, hesitating, but couldn’t make herself jump, she was too afraid. Even though the voice was very convincing and wanted her to jump. She was too afraid to not be able to go to heaven when she died by committing suicide.
”You're nothing! You're hated by everyone you know. You shouldn't be allowed to live. MURDERER” the voice said. Carmilla knew deep down that she was loved by the family she once had. They didn’t know of her deed. They didn’t know that she was the one that had done it. The family that she had destroyed herself, shattered. Carmilla looked down at the roaring waves under her. She felt dizzy and weakened. The blood loss had made her pallor than she normally was. Her rosy cheeks were no more. It spun around in her head. The thoughts disappeared from her mind. She couldn't focus. The landscape was turning around in her head. She wasn’t able to see anything clearly. Suddenly it stopped and everything went quiet, not one sound was to be heard. The wind through the leaves and the raindrops on the ground were silent. It was as if the trees held its breath, in anticipation to see if she would jump. She tried to move her hand to her head, but didn’t reach to do so. She closed her eyes in the same second and then fell fainted in the grass, right next to the blood red lily, standing tall still.
Carmilla grew up in a wealthy family in Styria, Austria. Her parents were never able to say no to her. She was spoiled and didn’t mind anything but her own existence. Her parents gave her all she ever could wish for and all she did wish for, they never realised why, but deep down they were afraid of how Carmilla would react if all her privileges were taken from her. One day in Carmilla’s 16 year of living her mother became pregnant with her unborn sister. Carmilla realised what was going on and became deadly jealous. She knew that her privileged life would be over when she became the big sister. She knew that her time had come to find a husband that her parents would just marry her off to, and it would be someone that she didn’t know. Though her time had not really come yet, she knew that it would soon come. It would come as soon as she turned 18. She was sure of it. But none the less her father had already mentioned to her mother that Carmilla was ready to find a man and get married, and that she had to attend fine balls to show the men that she was allegeable. Carmilla hadn’t been in the living room when he had said it, but she had heard every single spoken word from outside of the closed doors. She never mentioned to anyone that she had overheard the conversation. She pretended she hadn’t heard anything about it at all. After that episode of hearing something not meant for her ears yet she began to close herself in her own little world, staying in her room and only coming out when the servants called her saying the dinner was ready, or that any type of meal was ready. Her parents didn’t understand what was happening they didn’t know what was wrong, they had tried everything, but Carmilla either didn’t answer them when they called to her, or only answered with very short sentences. Her parents were out of ways to reach her, and with Carmilla’s mother growing bigger and bigger from one day to another, they decided to take action. On the day that Carmilla turned 17, they told her what she was supposed to do as a woman. What Carmilla’s mother herself had done. Carmilla was angrier than ever before. She yelled at her parents and ran to her room. They didn’t even reach to tell her that a gentleman had invited her to a ball to ask for her hand. The ball was to take place in a mansion a little outside of Styria. A few days before the ball was to take place, she was finally told and with her mother lying in bed because of the upcoming birth of her sister. She wanted with all her heart to say no, but her father had already promised that she would be there. Carmilla was devastated. She had never thought that her father would force her to go when she didn’t want to. She had thought that she would twist him around her little finger, she always had been able to before, but not this time. She didn’t want to leave her precious sweet life behind. She knew that she would never see one single shadow of her old life, if she attended that ball. Her life would be altered and she wouldn’t have the power to change it to fit her own liking. She was furious with her parents. They were willing to take her life from her and give her away, just like that, with a push out the door. She sat down on a high-backed chair for a long time, several hours passed by into the night. She needed an escape plan. She thought it through more than once, but couldn’t find one loop hole. It made her even more furious that they had sealed her faith so well. The longer she sat there the more angry she became, and she just let the anger possess her without thinking.
It had begun to rain outside, making it impossible to look out at the landscape and see a clear picture of what was out there. The thunder rolled over the sky, while the lightning lit the landscape time after time. Carmilla didn’t notice it. She was too occupied by trying to forge a plan to how she was going to get away from it all, even though she new it was hopeless. She wanted to get away from her treacherous family that she now hated like the plague, away from all the known memories and the guys she knew secretly had been asking her father for her hand. The hatred towards her family grew bigger second after second, minute after minute. How could they treat her like that? She thought. It made her eyes glow red, red with hatred and sadness. Her facial expression that used to be sweet and sensitive was now inconsiderate, and almost scary to look at. Her hands were pressed so hard, her white bones almost were visible from under her pale skin. Suddenly the door opened. One of her mother’s servants popped her head inside.
“Mademoiselle?” that was the only thing the servant got to say before Carmilla was over her. Carmilla scratched and hit the girl, until the girl lay unconscious in the floor. Carmilla looked at the unconscious body of the servant, had she really been able to do that? Carmilla stood up and looked frightened, not at the girl that lied in front of her, but at her own hands. She could see the girl’s blood under her long fingernails and smeared on her hands. Her hands were shaking. She stood still for a little while and tried to pull herself together again. She knew what to do now. She walked to her drawer. She was looking for something hidden in her clothes. She found it and took it up. It was a knife. It had never been used before. She picked up her bag and put the knife in it, and she then moved out of her room.
As she was standing outside her room she cast one last glance back at it, closed the door and then walked the corridor to her parents’ room. She knew that her mother lay in there in great pain. The birth of her sister had apparently begun. Carmilla stopped in the doorway to the room. Her glance passed several objects and then stopped. She didn’t look at her mother but at the huge painting over the bed. She had always admired that particular painting. She had always loved to look at it, because every single time she had looked at it, she had seen something new. She had seen something special that she wouldn’t have noticed before, not in a million years, like it was only just painted on the picture. Her eyes caught every detail of the picture. It was as if the painting took the colours of the mood around the house. She used to see a woman leaning over a cradle with a little child in it. She used to think that she was the little child herself, and that her mother was the woman leaning over her in a protective way. But this time she saw something different, something dreadful. She saw a dead infant with its mother looking at it without sorrow. The mother was just looking blankly at the dead child. The colours of the painting used to be cheerful and bright but were now, in Carmilla’s eyes, murky and gloomy. Carmilla stepped into the room, her eyes fixed on the painting. She reached the bed and sat down. She finally placed her glance at her mother, for one last time. She reached one hand in her bag. She was holding the knife in a very tight grip. She tried to find the courage to do what she wanted to do. She was still sitting on the edge of the bed. She took her mothers hand with her one free hand. Her mother looked up at her with great happiness.
“I hope you’re not angry with us for placing you in a position like that” her mother said, with a painful smile. Carmilla closed her eyes. She couldn’t do it if she looked at her mother at the same time.
“Sorry mum, but this is something I have to do!” She said and opened her eyes again, this time fixed on her mothers wrist. She took the knife and cut. Carmilla saw the blood from the wrist. Her mother screamed in pain. She tried but couldn’t get up because of the heavy weight of the baby she was still carrying. Carmilla stood up and looked at the blood that was soaking the fine cotton sheets, before she realized that she had to disappear as fast as possible before her deed was discovered by her father or one of their servants. She didn’t want to get caught. God would punish her for killing her mother. She hurried out the door and ran through the big mansion and out in the rain.
She ran as fast as she could towards the forest. She knew that she could hide there. She reached the forest and forced her way past branches, trees and bushes. The branches scratched her skin and gave her deep cuts on her arms, hands and face. Her beautiful dress was torn apart and the trees clanged on to her dress several times. Behind her pieces of fabric from her dress still hang on to the branches. But she didn’t notice. She just ran. She reached a cliff, where she stopped right on the edge. Her torn dress was soaked in the rain, and fine little drops of blood faintly coloured the dress where she had cut herself. A pair of blood drops dripped from her one fingertip down on a little fragile white lily, and instantly coloured it in a beautiful and shining blood red colour. She didn’t mind her scratches, her blood. She didn’t even notice the deep cuts on her arms. She didn’t feel that she was slowly getting weaker. She didn’t notice that she was loosing too much blood. The anger and sadness was the only thing she could feel. She wanted to get away. She wanted to end her life. A strange need to hurt herself even more found its way through her mind. It had found its way through the anger and the salty tears that was running down her cheeks. The cliff in front of her was looking almost too inviting for her. It needed her to jump, to make an end to it all.
“This is what you want. This is what everyone wants you to do. Jump! Save them the trouble and do it yourself!” The voice in her head sounded like her own. That was what scared her the most. She knew that everyone wanted her to jump. After what she had done, she didn’t see anyone that wanted her to live on.
“You’re a murderer, a loser, a zero! You’re nothing. Jump!” The voice was getting louder. Carmilla looked down, hesitating, but couldn’t make herself jump, she was too afraid. Even though the voice was very convincing and wanted her to jump. She was too afraid to not be able to go to heaven when she died by committing suicide.
”You're nothing! You're hated by everyone you know. You shouldn't be allowed to live. MURDERER” the voice said. Carmilla knew deep down that she was loved by the family she once had. They didn’t know of her deed. They didn’t know that she was the one that had done it. The family that she had destroyed herself, shattered. Carmilla looked down at the roaring waves under her. She felt dizzy and weakened. The blood loss had made her pallor than she normally was. Her rosy cheeks were no more. It spun around in her head. The thoughts disappeared from her mind. She couldn't focus. The landscape was turning around in her head. She wasn’t able to see anything clearly. Suddenly it stopped and everything went quiet, not one sound was to be heard. The wind through the leaves and the raindrops on the ground were silent. It was as if the trees held its breath, in anticipation to see if she would jump. She tried to move her hand to her head, but didn’t reach to do so. She closed her eyes in the same second and then fell fainted in the grass, right next to the blood red lily, standing tall still.