My Dark Heart

"My heart is heavy with all that has become, I can't see how I could cast aside all I held dear... It's almost as if he was never there, not even alive... But then, he isnt..."


1. It's Like I'm Not Even There.

The whistle of the wind is something I can find destressing at times such as this. I haul the suitcase up the cobbled driveway, its wheels making a clattering sound they always do when I pack far too much clothing than is needed. I say clothing, but by being a child at heart, I packed more momentos than actual things to wear. Huh, yeah sounds like me.

The skies over Ravenwood Manor, were the darkest in all the town. Merevan, is a place where the sentenced are taken, or at least in secret. Where the supernatural are forced to slave away in. Aka, a school for the 'specially gifted'. We call it, the Mourn. I mean, who isnt going to mourn coming here? I looked back, at the more cheeier skies and landscapes of my old life, and then with a push from my driver, I walked in through the iron wraut gates, into what would seem like an eternity of hell.

As I headed for what I thought was the main office, I saw many young people on campus. Many had the palest of skin, just as I, then there were overs with a darker African like colour. I envied their natural tanned look. My skin was as white as snow, and stood out against the dark black locks of my hair. I tucked one of the stary hairs behind my ear self conciously. Eyes. Eyes seemed to be on me all the time. I caught the glance of one dark haired boy. His eyes were the darkest crimson I had ever seen. They seemed like they lusted for blood. My blood? I tried not to make eye contact.

My strained body felt the lack of blood. My lips parched and dry, and my skin seemed dull. Now, I'm no vampire, believe it or not, I'm just immortal. But I need blood to stay that way, a complication with a mother who's bloodline was of a vampire, and my father of a mortal. And so I got stuck somewhere imbetween. I hope they dont even accept my 'new' race here. A blonde woman, as thin as she was curved exited from some large oak doors. She held her hands together as she paraded towards me. She had no problem navigating in her high heels, and with the tight pencil skirt also. Her eyes bore into my soul. An assesor. She would determine my fate here at the Mourn. Her eyes seemed to skit from dark hazel to flashing green. Her head tilted and she seemed lost in my destiny. "Melissa!" A voice arose from the doors, and a more magnificent, older woman appeared. Her face held the dark and twisted smirk I was expecting. Melissa, (I believe she was called) bowed her head. "This one." Her eyes lifted and were darkest red, it reminded me of the blood from the night before... The blood... "She is... Intresting... Mistress." Then Melissa's eyes returned and she smiled. "Have a nice day." It seemed callus and like there was some joke hidden that I wouldnt understand. I didnt understand. I didnt understand anything.

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