Is it wrong to love a vampire?

Chapter 20

Georgia woke up wrapped in purple silk sheets, she sat up and slowly unwrapped herself them from around her body. The door creaked opened and Nick stepped into the room. Georgia's stomach dropped, disgust dispersing through her body like a bomb.

'I thought this room would be fit for a princess.' Nick said casually walking towards the bed.

She couldn't look at him without scowling and instead turned her eyes towards the room. It had a high black ceiling, a golden cone of light, spiralling down. The walls were painted a dark shade of purple with old landscape paintings hanging on them. She studied her four-poster bed, made out of a dark wood with red velvet curtains secured at each post. She forced her eyes to her lap, refusing to acknowledge him.

'I guess.' She said, shrugging her shoulders.

The bed groaned as he sat down. She glared up at Nick, angry at him.

'Are you not happy Alice? I have made sure everything is exactly as you like it.' Nick said, a new softness in his tone.

Georgia stared back at him. 'My name is Georgia.' She stated. 'Don't try and be nice to me. I know what you really are.'

Nick was shocked. 'Where is Alice?' All tenderness gone from his voice.

'Who...' She stopped mid-sentence, last night flashing through her mind. The picture of Lady Alice Grove stared her in the face. The feel of his fangs as he ripped open her neck. The hungry feeling as his blood filled her insides. She backed away, hitting the head board. She pressed her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her head on her knees.

Nick stared at her, his eyes frantically looking over her. Georgia could see his brain churning through his grey eyes. She felt a slice of pity at his panicked face.

'What are you thinking about?' She asked despite the fear bubbling up inside her.

'Why are you still human? I changed you.' Nick ran a shaky hand through his hair. 'I don't understand, it should have worked.' He took a calming breath. 'What have you done with her?'

His cold tone made Georgia curl herself further into her ball. She was terrified of what was going to come next. Nick strode out of the room and she looked up in time to hear a key slide into the lock.

'Great.' She muttered. 'Locked in my own room.'

She gently climbed off the bed and walked around, searching every little corner for something to get away from here. She stretched her arm out, feeling no pain. She ran her fingers around it, there were no bruises, no swelling. It seemed her arm was healed and she smiled to herself. 'At least his blood is good for something.' She thought before leaning against an enormous painting of the castle, the bottom of it hung just above the ground. The painting hit the back of the wall, the paint cracking against the pressure. Georgia ignored it, not caring about any damage she could do. She shuffled her feet to a mahogany desk stuck in the corner of the room. She sat down and stared at the wood, the grains running across her eyes, each a different track of her mind. She traced it with her fingers, towards the black swirl off to the side. The place where it all came together, the black hole her mind was stuck in. he found a leather bound book tucked into the bottom drawer. She pulled it out, smelling the starch on the pages. All she could find to write with was a quill and some ink. She opened the book, listening to the binding crunch as she turned to the second page. Dipping the quill in the ink, she began to write.

This feels strange but I need to write down everything in my head. I've never really had a diary. I mean, I have, every teenage girl has got a diary, I just never used it. Well, maybe once but my life was simpler before my emotions were caught in this constant motion they are now. I could deal with them but now, I have to get everything out. Out of my head, out of my mind just so I can breathe and actually think straight. Let's just start at the beginning. My name is Georgia Alice O'Dona, I'm sixteen years old and I live in Australia. God, I feel so stupid doing this, someone could pick this up and know my life story, or it could just be forgotten. Who knows? One thing is for certain, I'm not your average sixteen year old, I thought I was. In about three months my world has been turned upside down and I never had to lift a finger. That night, when Nate spoke to me, everything changed, not that I knew it at the time. God, it's scary to think that everything that has happened to me was all because of one conversation. One stupid conversation that I wish I could take back.