A Cold Loveless Life

What’s the price of being human? To constantly have needs, wants, passions…secretes? Waking up every morning to be what society wants you to be. Why can’t the world around us accept what some of us truly are; could they? Or maybe we are just afraid to live out what we naturally urge to be. It’s like a curse; it perpetually eats at you so you are on the border line of pleasing your urges, and pleasing the mass. The penalty of living with what we are simply would be a stake in the heart to some. Losing loved ones or total shunning from society. Some of us…some just can’t help but to sail against the coast of how the world works but we work every single moment of forever trying to adapt ourselves to the humid and complex jungle that is the world to make smooth sailing. It’s like having two faces, two sides to our personality, two totally significantly different lives. How do we deal with it? Do we play out both parts like a twisted Shakespearian work, or do we only exist on one side. What if we only existed on the side we were cursed with? Those were simply things I always asked myself. Those among others, was the same thoughts that ran rampant inside the confinements of my brain. Sometimes, only sometimes would I voice those thoughts, those questions that we all fear the true answer of. Then other times, other times we find out the answers, even though it wasn’t what we wanted.
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I stared down into the lifeless pale blue eyes of the young man I had just killed. I suppose I found the answer yet again, but would I ever learn? Would I ever stop killing, could I ever stop killing? I was after all a killer, the perfect kind of killer if I was careful. I closed his eyes, and laid him gently on the cold ground. It was too late to be gentle, too late to care, the deed was done, he was dead and I had killed him. I bowed my head, for only a few seconds before dashing off, my feet seeming to lift from the ground at the speed I ran. I remained in the shadows of the buildings and alley ways. My fangs were back to normal canine teeth, and I licked the last drop of his blood from my lip. The darker side of me had enjoyed it, had wanted to go back and kill every single human inside the club. And I could have done it as well. But a part of me, the part that constantly struggled to hold onto the reaming slither of hope of my humanity, resisted. Made me run, made me leave and not hurt anyone else. It was a sad fact, I was a killer, and no matter what Roma said, or how hard she and I tried, that was all we was and that was all we will ever be. I suppose I knew the answer to the last question. Yes, we do exist on the side we are cursed with, and no society would never accept us. That was a fact I know, yet I still refuse to believe. Yes I know the answers, but I do not believe them and that is a choice, a foolish choice. But a choice I make, none the less.