Seven

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I decided to have a talk with my father today. I've figured he might be my best (only) option, since he's got to experience what being alive felt like at some point.

I should have known better than to get my hopes up. His advice felt like a dagger to the heart. He said that time is ticking, that's one of the only things I don't have control over, and that I need to turn Josephine before it's too late.

He also said that him and my brothers can't bear having a human with such scent in the house much longer. I know I can't protect her forever, and it's crazy to believe that I believed my family was crazy in the beginning.

I can't help but be crazy either.

She still doesn't seem to notice it. She's still gentle and sweet with my father and brothers, it's just her human nature. She still doesn't feel my suffering whenever she touches me.

I can't seem to be strong enough to tell her not to touch me anymore.

I'm scared.

Cillian Milford,
October 26, 1852

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