Louise A Vampire's Story (Completed/Editing)

Chapter Twenty Seven

Anna had left for Paris.

And I still coping with the realities of my actions even with so many days behind me, the fire merely at a moments notice for the people of Rouen. Leaving me with my own sense of dread and self-loathing for what I had done.

For I couldn't even escape the reality of it all in my dreams and would seek Edmond as a way to cope. For without him I would wake up in a panic, screams lodged in my throat at the mere memory of it all. Recalling every dreaded detail in it. It reached to the point to where he would sleep in my room every night, or I in his. He would not bemoan my actions nor complain that the affects of killing someone as a vampire like this is beneath me. But perhaps that is just how many would stereotype that of a vampire, that killing someone shouldn't weigh heavy on one's conscious. Something I could not help but find rather idiotic, we were human once, regardless of how old, taking a life will inevitably take it's toll on someone when they are not used to the action, and even then, there would still be some traces.

Edmond would merely be there for me, and stay by my side like he said he would that faithful night and tell me that I was okay, that I would be alright. Even though he would say those comforting words, I still couldn't help but think that things wouldn't be alright. So, out of frustration with myself I pushed myself to keep moving forward.

I would not forget the incident, I could never forget that it happened, but I still had to move on with my life, for I was still alive in a sense. Not the best way to go about it, but dwelling would do nothing but stoke the fires of self-pity from within. And that was the last thing I could ever want.

With the coming months since then I threw myself back into work, I had spent at least two weeks away from the bank and quickly found myself into the motion again. A number of the women who I worked with were rather grateful to have me back. Some telling me in secret when I was alone that they'd talk to other women about having a female banker, someone whom that they could relate too, and that having a woman in the same line of work tends to put some of the other men out of sorts. But I believed it was really due to Edmond and how he had put a stop in the men talking behind my back or belittling me. It was something I noticed on several occasions but kept to myself.

After all I had gone through it once, it wasn't something I needed to think on much again. During this time, I had received a letter from Anna, stating that she has become rather at home in her new home. Finding many places to both sketch and paint. One of the first things she sent me was a letter talking about the current military occupation by that of the Germans but that they would possibly be gone within the coming new year, or so many people hoped.

She had felt warry, about the German officers, but wrote that in actuality many were polite to her even a few willing to offer her assistance with carrying her easel and art supplies merely doing it out of common courtesy. Which had given her a great relief. She'd write about how her body was changing even more so as her child continued to grow within her and that she would often wear clothing to hide the fact, for so many would look down on a single woman raising a child, even more so if that child was one out of wedlock. She talked about how she counted herself lucky that she was in a position to do what she wished and to take care of the child, on top of which that it would be born within the coming fall. But most of all she hoped that I, Edmond and the others were well.

I found myself smiling, then a thought accrued to me, something that I had forgotten about. And with it, I quickly pulled out some paper. an inkwell and taking my pen, I began writing, it was something I thought about since a year prior. But with the incident I will no longer mention, I had all but forgotten about. I wrote two letters, one to Anna, and the second to another person. I then rifled through my desk and pulled out a photograph of both Abigale and Mercedes together wearing rather provocative clothing as they sat side by side one another, it was something Mercedes had given me not too long ago. Claiming it to be something of a promotional photo for their business, they had at least given me two copies, while from what I heard from Edmond, he had received five.