The Black Rose

Father and Mother

I stayed awake, looking at the inside cushion of my coffin. I was thinking. I know, what a shock... But I often stayed awake thinking. I thought about the horrors that pledged me the first few years of being turned into a vampire. The regret that lived with me until I live 1,000 more years. Most of all, I wondered about my closed off father, and my not so innocent mother. I wondered if I was even my dad's. I wondered what else my mother hid me from.
I remember the last time I saw them.
It was January, 12, 1913. Dante and I were playing with my dolls that were sent to us by my grandparents. My mother was yelling at my father.

"Nash, you must make haste! This vacation isn't going to last forever!"
My father raced downstairs, both of their many suitcases covered his arms.
"I am trying, Clara, but I can't hurry with your twenty suitcases. You packed as if it is going to last forever."
My mother rolled her eyes and took her suitcases.
"Be a man."
Dante kept me focused on the toys.
"Ne fais pas attention à eux, Julie."
I gently brushed the blonde hair of my well dressed doll.
I always did as Dante told me. It was hard not to. He was the only thing that kept me safe.
My mother and father walked into the living room.
"Dante," my mother began, "Make sure you take good care of your sister. She is your one and your main priority. Here is about a hundred dollars for food. Your grandparents will come to take care of you occasionally."
Dante nodded his head.
"Okay."
My father patted my poor brother's head.
"We're counting on you, Dante. I know you can do it."
My mother kissed my head and my father picked me up.
"Okay, little Julie, mama and papa have to go for a while. Be good for Dante, and you'll get an award."
My smile was as big as the sun. The sound of a surprise sounded great for a five year old. Especially a five year old with enough money to feed the town.
He handed me a new porcelain doll with ginger hair, rosey cheeks, and a blue dress. I held onto it as if it were one of a kind.
"She will be named Elizabeth! Thank you, daddy!"
He chuckled and kissed my forehead.
Dante softly took me from my dad's arms and placed me on the floor. He gave my parents a hug.
"Have a good trip, mother and father. Tell Uncle Logan and Auntie we love them. We'll see you when you get back."
And then they left.
I still remember the letter. I still remember my grandparents breaking voices.
"Dear children of Nash, Clara,
I'm sorry to be writing this, but your parents are dead along with your aunt and uncle. Before they died, they begged me to write this letter to you. You see, I became close friends with them during their trip, but on our way back to America, we were in a mad storm. Only a few survived. I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss.
Yours truly,
Abel Campbell. "
Something had always felt strange about that letter, but I lived with the fact I never got to truly know if that letter was real or fake. I was so little...
Sometimes I feel like I am still that five year old girl, waiting at the front door for her parents. Hoping and wishing the reality was fake. Hoping and wishing I was normal. Hoping and wishing I had gotten the chance to experience the same experiences any kid would. I never got to go out shopping with my mom, I never had my dad threaten a boy, I never had my mom help me become a true lady, I never had any of that. I just had Dante. I didn't mind it at first, but now so much has changed. I don't feel like me. My soul feels completely gone. Yet here I am, still trying to live on. The years pass, the days go on, the world keeps spinning, and yet I cannot stray away from my regret. I cannot feel happiness. At least anymore. I've tried so hard.
It's so hard not to feel happy without her...
"Jesus, Juliet! Your thoughts are ruining my sleep!" Dante yelled, shooting up from his coffin.
I opened my coffin.
"Maybe, don't read my mind!"
"It's hard to do when that's all I can hear! Stop feeling sorry for yourself and go to sleep!"
"Fine! ¡Buenas noches!"
I shut my coffin and closed my eyes...