Get it for
Apple iOS.
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2109624
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Emotional · #2109624
More from Moira and Evelyn
Too Many Memories

It was weird, stepping inside of Mulkerry once more. There were far too many memories deep within these walls. Family I had lost, days of youth gone. I couldn't cry out for Father or Mother to ease my nightmares anymore. All I could do is bear it.
I lingered at the final portrait painted of my father. He was much smaller, much more fragile looking. My heart broke at the sight of him. I slowly reached up, rubbing the edge of the frame.
"I would ask you, Mistress," an old, almost angry voice came from behind me, "do not touch the paintings. They are very old, very fragile. And they have been in my family a long time!"
I spun, startled . "I beg your pardon, sir," I said quietly. "I meant no harm."
"I'm Master Dubrante, the owner of this Manor. You are?"
"I am Claire Muldoon. You may call me Claire, Master Dubrante." There was something behind his eyes as I extended my hand for a shake. He instead turned my hand and kissed the knuckle gently.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Claire. You like this painting, yes?"
I pulled my hand back slowly, "Why yes. I do." This would have been one of those times that having the power to read mind or anything like those terrible vampire movies would have come in handy. "He reminds me of my own father."
"Maybe he is a distant relative. You do resemble Alisabeth."
Finally his resemblance struck me. He reminded of my brother, Brody. He was a manipulative little sack. When the ship had come in to take the three of us away from this horror land, he convinced my mother that I would be better off staying with her. In all honestly, he didn't want to be strapped down with a little sister that had my needs.
"I'm adopted, so I wouldn't much know about my background." I lied through my teeth. "Where exactly did you fall into place with this family? Dubrante, not a common name around here."
"My ancestors come from Brody Mulkerry. I'm sure you heard as he moved on to Egypt. From there the blood mixed, names mixed, you know how it goes."
'Thus the resemblance,' I thought bitterly. "Yes, that does make sense."
"Claire," I heard Evelyn's voice from behind me. "I thought I had lost you. The tour is over. We must go now."
"It was nice to make your acquaintance, Claire Muldoon." He smiled at me.
"Pleasure was all mine, Mr. Dubrante." I then left the room, fighting the urge to look back at the man. I didn't trust him, and not solely because he was Brody's son. There was just something about him. I didn't like him one bit.


"There's a fair tonight, in town. I mean, I am not sure if you're tired," Evelyn stammered.
"I'd love to go with you," I said nudging her with my shoulder.
"Oh," she smiled. "Ok."
We made our way toward all the music, lights and delicious smells of food. There were rides, games, food stands and people running around all excitedly. There were prizes being won, and young couples falling in love. Old couples were rediscovering each other. Emotions got the best of me, and I began to cry.
"Claire!" Evelyn turned toward me, grabbing both my hands.
"I'm alright," I laughed at myself. "I just- there is just so much going on in my head right now. It wouldn't make sense to anyone but me."
She reached her small, warm hand up to my face, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "I maybe wouldn't understand, but I am always here to support you feeling better."
Her deep almond eyes bore deep into my soul. I wasn't one to say the 'L' word- ever. But there was something stirring deep inside of me. A different kind of hunger awoke inside of me. Suddenly, thunder rattled and lightning lit up the sky. And just as sudden as my body had begun to cry, so did the sky. As the rain poured around us, and the people that had been enjoying the fair began to take off, we stood there, staring into one another's eyes.
Her heart raced, and for once I noticed it because mine did too, not because I had an insatiable hunger. Slowly, we leaned in, and our lips met. At that perfect moment, nothing else existed, nothing but me and this beautiful creature. Our mouths moved in a silent, beautiful ballad; our arms wrapped around each other. I held onto her feeling that I would float away if I let go. Her hands wondered my body, resting on my waist.
Finally, we pulled back. She stared at me breathlessly. I didn't want to stop kissing her. I didn't want to stop feeling whatever this was within me.
"It's raining," she finally remarked, and we both started to laugh. "If you'd like, my place isn't that far away from here. It's got a fireplace. You could take a shower if you'd like."
"I'd like that," I smiled at her.

A Never Ending Fire

I sat in the living room stoking the fire as I waited for Claire to get out of the shower. My heart raced as I thought of our kiss at the fairgrounds. This was new for me, this feeling. But here I was, needing her in every way imaginable.
"That was the most amazing shower I have had in- forever," her voice came from the doorway. I looked up to see her standing there in my t-shirt and sweat pants. Her long raven curls hung down, dripping water all over the plain white shirt I had given her. Her nipples were hard underneath the sheer fabric. I tried not to look, but there was no use. She sat down next to me.
"Thank you for letting me stay here tonight. The inn is kind of cold."
"That old inn is a protected landmark. The townspeople have wanted to tear it down for a long time, to get it fixed and updated. But it's been there much too long."
"You know a lot about this place," she noted, pulling her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms about them.
"It's a passion of mine. An inherited one, mind you. Before I was born, my mom had planned to travel the world and learn everything she could about every place in existence. But I put a damper on that, so she settled with being a history teacher. She always swore it wasn't settling, but I always wondered where she would have gone if I had not been born."
"You are of as much importance as the next person, Evelyn. Each individual is born, created for a reason."
She pushed a strand of hair from my face. She then leaned in and kissed me gently at first. My body began to shiver underneath her touch. Claire then laid me back. She climbed over me, kissing down my cheek and then my neck. I ran my hands over her back down to her firm backside, lifting my hips to rub against her. She nibbled lightly before pulling back.
There was something about her eyes; there was so much fire and passion behind them. Yet, there was still so much pain behind them as well.
“Claire,” I said breathlessly.
“Evelyn,” she replied, with a small smirk on her face.
“Oh,” I remembered the journal I had wrapped for her earlier. “Give me one second.”
She moved from over me, looking at me like I was crazy. I quickly ran to my room, grabbing the present I had for her. When I returned a few moments later, I sat down on the floor, next to her.
“I know we don't really know each other, but since we met, I just can't help but to feel like you need this as much as I did when my mom died.” I handed over the neatly wrapped journal. She looked at me, confused as she accepted the gift.

A Gift of the Heart

I took the beautifully wrapped gift from her delicate hands, unsure of exactly what she was giving me. Evelyn looked at me, excited to see me open what she had given me.
Excitedly, yet delicately I opened it. My heart dropped and my eyes filled with tears.
“Evelyn,” I couldn't find the words as I lightly rubbed my mother's journal. “This is- this is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.”
“You seemed to have quite an attachment since the minute I showed it to you. I sense a love for the Mulkerry's that resembles mine.” She leaned back on the counch, smiling at me.
'If only you knew,' I thought to myself.
“Evie,” I said quietly. “There is something I have to tell you.”
She said nothing; instead she waited patiently for me to speak.
“I haven't been completely honest with you,” I looked down at the journal in my hands.
She still said nothing, which made me kind of nervous.
“My name isn't Claire Muldoon,” I finally sighed. “I'm Moira Mulkerrry.”
Evelyn sat staring at me quietly, and then she began to laugh. “You're funny!”
“I'm serious,” I said. “This is something I have never shared with anyone in my entire- existence. My name is Moira Mulkerry, and I was not killed the night of the Mulkerry Massacre.”
She stood up, “Please leave.”
“Evie, please, let me explain!” I stood up, grabbing her hand.
“I told you intimate things about me, about my mom. And you take them, twist them. Is this your idea of a joke?”
“Please don't be upset with me. This isn't a joke!” I revealed my fangs.
She stared at me, somewhere between horrified and confused.
“That night at the manor, Percephonie spared my life. I was so angry for so long about her changing me. For a long time, she kept telling me that everything happened for a reason. I never knew what kind of good could come from her keeping me alive all of these years.” I stood up, and grabbed her arm. “But then I met you.”
“This,” I grabbed the journal. “is the best gift anyone has given me in my life! It's not just because this is the last living piece of my parents, but for the longest time, I really thought I was my parents' biggest disappointment. For over a thousand years, I lived with the feeling that I was the biggest burden in my parents lives.”
By now tears began to slide down my cheeks. I could feel my heart breaking, the grief of my parents flooding over me again.
“These pages are filled with the words of the love my parents both had for me. Back when in that day, these things were not expressed to each other. Mothers and fathers, they were too focused on being strong and disciplined. But now I have the words that I would have never heard otherwise. That is all because of you!”
“You lied to me,” she said quietly.
“I couldn't tell you the truth! Do you know how long I have wanted to tell someone about my real identity? Please forgive me.” I waited with tears in my eyes for her answer.
“Please leave,” she asked me in a hushed voice.
I opened my mouth to speak, but decided to just remain silent and leave.
© Copyright 2017 Sammie Ham (newjourney at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2109624