A vampire looks inside herself, at how one decision can change the course of your life.
|You know how when you look back on your memories, you think about how you would change how you did the things you had done. Hoping in a futile move that might have changed the outcome. Well what do you do when you have a few centuries of those introspection's. So many what ifs.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a morose person. It’s just there are times I really wonder if by changing one slight decision; my life might have taken a different turn.
As I stand looking around the dimly lit bar, scanning for what I don’t know. I’m hungry, yes, but there are other ways to assuage my hunger. At this moment, I feel the need for contact; to feel the rush of adrenaline that comes as I sink my fangs into a throat. The pump of life as it washes over my tongue. Not the cold, antiseptic taste of blood from a bag.
This is when I begin thinking about those choices we make. When I look back, I sometimes wonder if I had said something different, or acted differently I would have had a whole other life. You’re not always given the choice, but then in the back of your mind there is that doubt that assertion that it was by your choice. I just don’t know.
It was a quiet night in the bar, it usually is early in the evening, but that isn’t the case on the weekends. That is when those who want to walk on the dangerous side come. Those who want to rattle the wolves cage, just to see if it bites. Now it isn’t hard to find willing donors. Not with all the hoopla over vampires in the movies, television, and media.
You only are a click away on the internet, and my best friend said that was good in some ways, but in others, it took the fear away. The cattle were docile now. There was nothing left to the hunt.
Well what do you expect from a vamp of her advanced age. We never really talk about everything she has seen in her almost one thousand years walking the earth. So many places that she knew long buried and rebuilt repeatedly. I don’t even think she remembers where she was born, if she does she keeps that knowledge held close to the stone cavern that once held her heart.
Don’t get me wrong. She is a great friend, and I know she cares about a great many things. But for her there is no emotion such as love. There is just the brief flicker of flame for whoever is her choice du jour, but she doesn’t see the need for something deeper.
I, on the other hand long to find one who makes me feel alive, to feel the need to dream of the future. I thought I had found it once, but like so many things in my life. A choice cost me that dream.