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Syla
"Try to imagine how it feels from my end. I did not ask for this existance! I was a victim. My mother found my broken body and mourned heavily at her loss. I died so young, she said. When I awoke to the night, I had a terrible hunger, like none I had ever felt in my life. My mother knew what I had become and understood this hunger I felt. She bade me drink from father...and I did so in his sleep. Mother would invite people over for me to have, and I drank from them. Yet, when word got out that trouble was about, no longer would anyone come over to see us at night. I slept during the day, and mother knew not what to do to help me. She could not persuade anyone to visit, for they had fear of travelling at night. In her sleep, I took my mother's life blood for myself. I had not eaten in days...and could not resist her sweet scent.
Now...I wander the forest...looking for whatever or whoever I can to sustain my existance.
What other choice do I have?
You would do the same...in my position."
You are very far away still, yet you think you see her eyes begin to mist over in tears.
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