You can change your name, you can change you location. Only a vampire can change your soul
|UUUGH!!!! I'm on this damn bus again. I did tell you I hate NYC Public Transit, didn't I? Classes start today. It sucks! This is the part of college life I hate the most, the hustle and bustle of enrolling, getting your schedule, meeting your professors, buying your books. It means I have to be on the go all day, every day for several weeks. It's not that I really get tired, it's just to many people, pressed to closely, the smell of blood is to thick, to constant. It makes it difficult. I have to eat more than usual before I leave the house each morning so that I'm not so thirsty.
This term I'm going to be Alexandria Simonette. That's the other part I hate, changing my name. When you go to college as often as I do, you can't use your real name. Back when I first went to college in 1833 the record keeping wasn't that great, it was all on paper. I was able to remain Alouette Sivney for a several decades without anybody noticing that a 20 yr old woman with my name and birthdate went to school and then 15 yrs later the same 20 yr old woman with the same name and birthdate goes to the same school again. Then I got smart and started changing schools. After Oberlin, I went to Smith College in Northampton, MA.
One of my necessary talents is forgery. Not something I necessarily enjoy doing, but a definite requirement with me being immortal. I can honestly say I try to conduct this as cleanly as possible. I never steal anyone's identity, I always create my own. I never do this for anyone other than myself and I never let anyone know that I can do this, for obvious reasons. By trial and error I have learned all the tricks that work. I always use name's similar to my own so they're easy to remember I know exactly the steps that have to be taken to create all forms of documents, and since technically I am a lawyer, I have a notary seal. It takes me about two hours to make up a new set of documents, complete with Birth Certificate, Social Security card, Drivers License and Passport. The next thing I do is go get a bank account in my name and apply for a credit card in my new name. After that gets all set up, I've never had a college registrar or anyone else question my identity. I can become a completely different person in as little as four days. I have been Adele Sanxay, Amelie Sigismund, Anais Sommer, Antoinette Spencer, Brigitte Swithin, Colette Stapleton, Juliette Skeffington, Claudette Sarisbury, Paulette Stanwood, and now Alexandria Simonette.
It was so much harder in the early days when I was with Quinn. It was a few years before I knew how to read well, much less write legibly enough to forge documents. Just thinking his name pulls up buried memories, and I am taken back. I remember being surprised by his honesty. I thought I knew exactly what had happened to me, but I wasn't even sure I believed in vampires. Of course, I had heard of vampires in stories. At the convent, the nuns had taken turns telling us young ones stories before putting us to bed and blowing out the candle. Mostly the stories were from the Bible, and stories of the different saints, how they lived and died. But there was one nun, Sister Fincana, who was from Scotland. When it was her turn to put us to bed, she loved to tell us stories of bogles, elves, fauns and fairies. She used to say you couldn't know everything there was to know about God, without knowing a little about the devil. She used stories of vampires and werewolves to scare us and keep us in our beds, claiming that we were safe as long we stayed in the convent because such sidhe could not come onto hallowed ground.
"Why me? Why did you pick me? What made me special enough to be considered your companion?"
"I did not pick you, the Gitan picked you. I simply requested they bring me a female, preferably a young female, aged between a child and an adult. I do not know why they selected you in particular. Maybe just because you were available. As far as why I wanted a companion, I have already explained. I grow very tired of being alone, of having no one to share my life and my experiences with."
Part of me wanted to cry, scream and jump up and down. But I knew he was expecting that, so I simply returned to the bed and laid down. I closed my eyes. My mind was flying with questions, but I couldn't focus on one question long enough to verbalize it. Acceptance, this is what he was speaking of. How could I accept what he was offering me? I didn't even fully understand what was happening to me. He was expecting me to just accept it and move on? Like these events were of no major consequence to my life. I was a very simple girl, my life up until this point had been filled with my family, my farm, and the convent. I was not stupid, but I was uneducated. Even though the church made sure we received a minimal education, I could not even read or write. But now I had changed, my life had changed, and my world had flipped upside down. I had no knowledge of the world of kings and courts, of fine or luxurious things, of travel, or of being able to fit into his world.
At just that moment the door burst open. "Master Quinn, Master Quinn, soldiers approaching.!" In that same instant I opened my eyes and I breathed in. A normal human action, not consciously done, only done now out of habit. Suddenly, several different things happened at exactly the same moment in time. But for the sake of explaining it, I will give the sequence in "slow motion". A man, a human man burst into the room. I opened my eyes and saw him. I inhaled and the sweet, heavily intoxicating smell of blood filled my lungs, my throat, my head. I experienced the wildest, deepest and most intense hunger and thirst I had ever experienced in my entire existence. In the same moment, I went from laying on the bed to being across the room, holding the man by the back of his neck. Tipped backward like we were doing some kind of crazy dance. In the same instant, Quinn was there, standing on the other side of the poor gypsy with his hand covering the man's throat, with my teeth grazing the back of his hand.
"Now, now we must not be rude. You cannot just attack without being provoked, and when you are feeding, you never grab and devour in such a gluttonous manner. It's uncivilized."
I froze and looked up, mouth still open, and could not comprehend what he was saying. We stood there looking at each other, with me on the man's left side, hand under the man's neck, right thumb pressed on the man's jugular, mouth open, fangs bared. Quinn was on the man's right side, hand on top of the man's throat, looking at me with a patient expression, the look a parent would use when instructing a child. I understood the words he had spoke, but what did he mean? There is an actual, legitimate reason why I should NOT drain this human right this second? Did he comprehend the searing, scorching fire that was burning it's way down my throat? Pain, actual physical pain, burning it's way down to my toes. Does he not understand what I'm feeling right now? Obviously not, because if he did he would understand what it was doing to me to feel this man's pulse thumping under my fingers. What it was doing to me to stand so close, the smell of blood was so strong I was dying inside. I really didn't give a flying damn if it was rude or crude or uncivilized for me to want this man's blood so badly. I didn't care about rules, or codes of conduct, or proper decorum. I just wanted to end my painful thirst.
"Let him go, you can do it, just let him go." I can't, no, no, NO, I can't do it! My relief was in my hands, sweet relief, all I needed was one sip of the blood. Just one sip, the tinniest of bites, break the skin just enough to get one drop in me to make the thirst back off a little. Oh my God! I am going to die if I have to let him go. I looked down at the man. He had fainted, the blush of blood had left his cheeks and he looked very pale. Quinn had put his left hand under mine under the man's neck and was pushing up, helping the man to his feet. I stared at Quinn, my will struggling with his will. He wanted me to let go, and I just couldn't to bring myself to release the man yet. He slightly bent at the knees and scooped the man up and threw him over his shoulder, effectively ripping the man away from me. I just stood there, staring, hands still outstretched. "I have to go take care of our visitors. Do not leave this room. You must promise me that you will not leave, I will kill you if I find you outside this room. Do you promise to stay here?" All I could do was nod, and by the time I blinked, he was gone and I was alone.
I crumpled to the floor in a heap. To much, it was to much all at once. I couldn't think straight, couldn't concentrate, couldn't breathe. Technically I didn't need to breathe, but I felt the constriction in my chest anyway. Who was I? Who had I been? I had been a nobody, a simple farm girl. Very plain, very basic, very simple. My life was all planned out, I knew the path my life would take because it was the same road my mother had walked, and the same road my sisters would walk. I would live at home until I was eight, I would go to the convent, and study with the church until either my family made a marriage contract for me and I came home to get married, or I took my vows and joined the church. If I came home and got married, I would help my husband in the fields, bear his children and keep his house. If I did not marry, I would be a nun and live the rest of my life at the convent, and only see my family on rare occasions like holidays. Either way a very simple, uncomplicated life. But who was I now? My life was shattered. It was like there was a huge mudslide on the path that was my life. The path was ruined, destroyed, obliterated. What was I supposed to do now? WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW????