Strawberry blood ♦ The Originals

For the Next Millennium

For the last two centuries I have always avoided Louisiana. If possible, even the entire United States.

That wasn't particularly difficult, as many countries in Europe certainly had their charm.

But now I'm standing here again, at the beginning.

As a little child I always had loved watching the river flow, for hours at a time. Now, with the best will in the world, I couldn't understand it anymore.

Maybe it was because I had lived right by the sea for the last few decades, but the way the river flowed there was just boring. It was something completely different than the ocean hitting rocks or washing over the sandy beach with gentle waves.

Or it was just me who had changed. It was no longer the little girl staring at the water, but a grown woman. Well, maybe a little too grown considering I've been walking this earth for over two centuries.

It was only natural to develop further during this time.

Time flies by, is what a friend of mine used to say.

The city had also changed.

Where once there were a few houses around the river, old-fashioned and easy to break into, all concentrated in a single neighborhood, the city now flourished in high-rise buildings, modern and very safe. Well, at least that's what people thought.

Even though the city had lost its old charm, I could definitely get used to this new version. Even if the smell of polluted air that came with the many tourists and their cars wasn't really pleasant.

New Orleans became a completely new city.

Just like I became a completely different person.

Seems like everything is changing.

The French Quarter that was once my home lay behind me. I actually started hating this place as a teenager. And most people there too.

I glanced over the old buildings and once again realized how inappropriate this city's nickname was.

The big easy.

Nothing about this city was easy. Not even coming back here.

♦♦♦

I crossed half of the French Quarter in search of a very specific person here in New Orleans.

I couldn't remember the church that a young vampire had mentioned to me. Maybe it didn't exist in this city in my time.

And just when I was just trying to find the right way on my phone, the battery died.

Yet again. Somehow I never managed to charge this thing in time. Although I actually always got along well with new technologies.

And I hated asking for help. Especially not for something as simple as asking for directions.

Although this would often have cost me a lot of time - and nerves - due to my many changes of city, I stood by my principles.

Asking for help only made you look weak, and I couldn't expose myself to that. Not even in front of people I would never see again.

So I wandered through the downtown of New Orleans, looking for a signpost labeled "Sanct Anne's Church".

As I was about to walk past the next side street, I saw a relatively small church tower rising up. Checkpoint.

I walked purposefully towards the church, the uneven pavement beneath my black high heels barely slowing my pace.

I was used to walking in shoes like that and did it almost exclusively. I liked how it made me look taller, which I found quite important for my 5'3'' height.