Blood Drinking Wolf

Dear Diary

I laid my self on the sofa, my back hurt. I was soon followed by Meadow. She placed her head on my lap. I stroked her head, her fur so soft and silk. Peter sits next to me, he put one arm around me. "She is a cute dog" he laughed. She stands up and starts to lick my face.

I get a phone call. "Hey?"
"Hi, it's Lena"
"Oh ok"
"Me and Romand where wondering where you guys where"
"We are come now"
"Ok, we will be there"
"O-" my mouth filled up with sick. I threw my phone on the sofa and ran to the bathroom.

Peter soon followed. He lifts my hair back, Meadow stands by my feet. I am done and stroke her. She calms me. Peter kissed my head, and I stood up and gave him a hug.

I walked to the kitchen and get a glass of water. A couple minutes later we hear a knock. Romand Nadia and Lena was there. We let them in and Meadow circles them. "You got a dog"
"Yes and these" I place one big box on the table. I sit on the other sofa and Meadow joins me. I held it up and said "1603,..." I started to read.

1603:
Dear diary,
It is a cold February on Monday 14 1603. The nights are cold. I miss Lola, but she betrayed me. I killed the hands man this morning. It corps it still to be found.

To put it straight, I hope the future is better then this. Because if I continue to live like this I will take the immortal side out of me and kill my self.

I live on a small plot of land. I grown my own crops and sell them. It keeps me some What alive, but I need some thing els. This money won't last for long. I need a plan.
Bye diary,
This was Emma L.

Present day:
I read it out to them. "Wow it's like a story, and I want to know more." Romand says. I get up,
"We are going to be hear a while, How do I know, I wrote these and there are about 5 more diary entries to get through"

I get some blood for me Romand and Lena, a organ juice for Nadia, water for Meadow, and food, and Peter a whiskey.

"Ok, let's read on.."

1603:
Dear diary,
I have got it. I won't be living in this shit poverty. Sorry for the language. There is a man a rich man. He is looking for a young and beautiful wife. If I am lucky I am pull of beautiful.

I got all my saving and get a nice baby blue dress. I curled my hair up. If this doesn't go well. Then I have no money and I shit life ahead of me.

I walked to the town hall and then to his house. I was a big house with a wonderful garden. The leaves all crouched up an the brick wall. I knocked lightly on the door. A man in a suit and white gloves answered.

He was the butler and called the man down. His grey beard curled to his sides. His blue eyes stared at me. A smile went on his face. "Hello, you look lovely"
"You do to, my wonderful sir"

He takes me hand and leads me to the big hall called his living room. We have tea and crumpets, he talked about his business and how he needs a wife as beautiful as me. I tell him that I am here to be his wife and pleasure him in what every he needs. He says good bye and tells me he would like to meet again tomorrow.

I am scared, but I think it went well.
Bye diary.

Present day:
I close the book. They all stared at me. "Oh, um it is late, you guys can come tomorrow if you like" they nod and left. I pat Meadow on Tehran back and walked up stairs. I let go of my body and laid in bed. I get a book from the box. "Peter!" I shout. He ran in. "Come sit down and read this with me."

He sits with me. The book read 1933. "What happened that is so special in this book"
"World war 2" I could fell tears build up in my eyes. Meadow curled next to us. "You ready"
Peter nods.

1933:
Dear diary,
I don't know what is happing. People are deign took out their homes and being placed in trains. It is early spring, March to be exacted.

I am scared, scared in case they find out who I am.

I keep my head down and went to move under ground. Where around 12 other families live. Their live sadder then mine.

March 16,
Diary,
this is the only belongs I have. I am on a train to god know where. It is cramped, I dream of one more inch of space. PLEASE.

They took everything of me, it take me a lot to not rip there fucking throats out. I can't, because from what I have heard, even the slightest crazy, you get tested on. I can't have that.

They have shaved my head and the pain of having a tattoo will all ways stick with me, I mean so will the ink. I have no food, no nothing.

HELP ME, I CANT ANY MORE!

Present day:
"Shit" Peter says kissing me. I lifted up my sleeve and rubbed of the makeup. There is rivered my number. "Wait But you turn?"
"Yes and escape"

We dozed off. Meadow sill at our feet.