The journal of Rosemarie Hale.

Second of July 1865.

I woke up in my bedroom, a screaming pain came from my neck as I moved even an inch and my throat felt so dry right now that I'd kill for a cup of tea. My mother's cups of tea had been to die for, it was a pity that I would never have one of her cups of tea again. I got up even though pain shot through me everywhere as I did. I examined myself in the full body mirror. I had not a single thing wrong with me: my hair was as silky soft and smooth as usual, my complexion clear, my eyes shining, my teeth gleaming and canines enlongated, my nails slightly sharper than usual and so much strength powering through me it felt almost impossible.

I was flawless now. What had happened to me? It was as though I had magically changed over night. I heard footsteps approaching and without another thought I walked to the door and opened it to see who was approaching. It was Dean. He caught sight of me just as I began to back away from the door frame. Fear ran through me.

An inner voice told me: he did this to you. He is something unnatural, get out of there now. I whimpered in fear as I backed into my dressing table, I let out a cry of pain and let tears form in my eyes. "Please don't hurt me" I pleaded.

"My dear I would never hurt you, in fact what I did is helping you" I continued to back away, to put as much space between me and Dean as possible. "No, you did this thing to me and now I have no idea what happened to me in the night!" he rolled his eyes, saw me reaching for my bedside lamp and appearing right in front of me, grabbed my wrists and said "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Look I turned you, I know it's hard to understand but you'll come to terms with it eventually" I let more tears fall. "Turned me?" I asked, what an odd word. I guess this is what I get for talking to strangers in bars, I mentally chatised myself for ignoring the warning my mother had always gave me as a child: never talk to strangers.

"Rosemarie, can you promise me you won't freak out if I tell you?" I nodded although I wasn't entirely sure how I'd react to whatever this secret was. "I'm a vampire... That's what I 'turned' you into" I gasped and felt myself falling, strong arms caught me however and when I opened my eyes again I was met by Dean's eyes, looking down at me with concern.

"Are you okay? Do you feel thirsty?" I nodded. He helped me get back up. "I was at the blood bank all night, I stocked your food supplies up" I'd heard legends about 'the blood-drinkers' all my life. How they stalked beautiful women before making them one of there own. So I knew quite a bit about vampires and I knew for a fact he wasn't lying when he said I was one. I guess that's why I reacted so well to all this. I'd learnt everything I knew about vampires from my mother as a child in my history lessons. She'd made me write a ten thousand word essay on them with my type writer, for a five year old who spoke five different languages I did extremely well and recieved an A star for my outstanding project. I now was fully adjusted to five languages however: English, Latin, French, Russain and Spanish.

My mother had taught me everything I knew school wise and my father had taught me everything he'd known about work. He'd owned the store I worked for so finding work hadn't been to hard. He already knew of my sowing expertice, hence the dress I'd been wearing last night. But the pay had been far more than any one else in my father's pay check.

We came to a stop in the kitchen and Dean handed me a blood bag. "Drink" he commanded, piercing a hole into the bag with a point tipped straw. I obeyed his command and sipped the liquid like Cranberry juice. Or at least that's what I told myself it was so I didn't vomit. The liquid however tasted sweet and sugary, I wondered if the person who'd donated it had known she'd had high blood pressure. I sighed when I realized I truly was a vampire. "Your an original" Dean said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "What?" I croaked nearly choking on the blood that had been in my mouth at the time. I'd wrote about originals in my essay, they were the royals of the vampire community. "I said your an original" he repeated. "How?" I asked. He chuckled. "I'm one, my maker was one and now your one, you are my 'prodedgy' as vampires like to put it" I nodded. "Yeah I know... I wrote an essay on vampires" he looked at me, clearly taken aback. "Really?" he asked. "Yes." I replied blandly.