The Very Famous Title: Untitled

Subject: The Very Famous Title: Untitled Fri Jul 16, 2010 10:29 pm

Chapter 1: White Walls

I grew up in a mansion. I remember my childhood well, but the thing that will always stand out to me the most is white walls. Every room in the mansion had white wallpaper. And all the upholstery was beige. I recall was a very bland place.
We were rich.
My father was the head of music company spread throughout Europe. He is one of the few things I do not remember in my childhood. There are only two things I remember about him, though. 1.) He loved music. 2.) His green eyes. This all comes to me in a memory:
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White walls surrounded us. We were in the music room of the mansion. I was sitting beside him as he played the piano. When he was done, he smiled at me, and his bright green eyes twinkled only like they did after he was doing something with the love of his life: Music. As he gazed at me he said, "Jamie, I want you to play the pianoforte."
This was in the early 18th century.
"You must be the best, so that one day, you will have a good enough reputation to inherit my company, when I retire."
I knew this was half a lie. He would never retire until the day he died.
"When we found your mother was pregnant with you, we prayed for a boy. But we got you. A little girl. So, dear, please make sure you do this for Daddy. Or you will never live another day in this household."
I stared at him, blankly. I was about five. My mother rushed up to us and picked me off his lap. "Charles!" Mother scolded. And with that she left.
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That was all I can remember. His disappointment in me. I tried and tried to get his attention, constantly doing things that would make him be so proud that he would come back as quickly as possible to praise me. This was a time before telephones. When we had to send letters by the rider.
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When I was 16, I started sending letters to father by the coach. The coachdriver , James, was 18, but he was poor. An unsuitable match for the heir to a prestigious company. He courted me, though. We would exchange flatteries through mail. Father would never respond to my letters. But Mother never knew that. So he would give me a letter claiming that it was from Father.
This happened for a year, until Mother became curious and read one of his love declarations.
But in this particular one, he had asked me to run off and forget my taxing studies in the arts. Forget my father's statement. To marry him.
Mother was furious. In a frenzy, she ran to the music room where I was practicing and grabbed my hair.
Then all of a sudden, she just stopped. She had realized what I had been doing when she came in.
I had started coughing up blood. I remember the piano was covered with it. She immediately called the maid to get the coach. She said that she wanted our doctor hear in a day.
One of my friends had already died of tuberculosis. She knew what I had.
She simply walked out of the door and left me there. "Do not ever say my name again."

And I haven't. The doctor soon came with a coach to take me to the hospital. There was no treatment for "consumption" as we called it. We just knew it was contagious.

And we knew I was going to die. At 17 years old, I was going to die.

I'm not proud of how I left, I sobbed as the doctor walked into the room and carried me to the stagecoach. I didn't even look at him. I felt that I'd die if I looked at him.
If I did maybe I would have been able to stop what happened. But I still haven't decided if I regret that night or not.

I started to cry harder as I looked out the window to see Mary, our maid, waving goodbye. I could see tears in her eyes. Mom never even looked out of a window. I wish I had left screaming bloody murder. No, laughing. Cackling like I was mad. So I could haunt Mother for the rest of her short stupid life. But I cried. I wonder if Mom would make James send Father a letter or hire a new stagecoach telling him of my death.

We stopped soon. Too soon. I had probably fell asleep some during the ride. I yawned and stretched as the doctor (who had been driving said, "We're here."

I froze.

He opened the door and I saw we were in the middle of nowhere. The moon was out and the trees were swaying in it's light.

I still didn't move as I tried to figure out what was going on.

So guys what do you think is going to happen next!?!?!?!?!?

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Subject: Re: The Very Famous Title: Untitled Sun Jul 18, 2010 12:47 am

It was...James. James was driving me out to the middle of nowhere. And I was dieing slowly with a CONTAGIOUS disease.
"Don't worry. I know you have consumption."
I started to sob. "What are you doing," I hiccuped. "You know this is contagious."
He laughed. LAUGHED. I started to cry even harder. "Why are you laughing when I am going to die?"
"'Course you're not. I have the perfect solution." He came up to me...And ripped my throat out...Or at least it felt like it. No storybook endorphin rush for me. There was nothing in his saliva, and not one single part of it felt good or numb. In fact, it just felt like it would anyday if you put two thick, but dull, knives into your neck. The only problem was this went on forever until he drank me bone dry...Thankfully, I passed out during the process.
You want to know why they have to drink your blood....all of it...to change you? Too bad. Because I don't know. It's not something that I've studied before.
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Subject: Re: The Very Famous Title: Untitled Fri Jul 30, 2010 10:25 pm

Chapter 2: In the dirt.

And I woke up...
Yeah, I woke up.
In the dirt.
It turns out they had buried me, but the weirdest part is the fact that I was buried about...I'd say close to 300 years.
In the dirt.
Well, that wasn't weird or anything, huh?
So dug myself out of the hole and there he was. James, of course. Just sitting in front of my grave with a smile. I stared at him. But before I knew it I was in his arms sobbing.

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Subject: Re: The Very Famous Title: Untitled Wed Sep 08, 2010 9:14 pm

Chapter 3: Vampire? Okay, thanks...NOT.

So I was like...A heroine in one of your vampire novels of this time. Your...Bella Swan, or your Zoey Redbird.
But it wasn't something that I wanted to be. It wasn't something that saved my either. In fact, it completely ruined me. Because hey, I'm damned.
After about a month of living with James, he started to get agitated. "Darling, you haven't said a word. Not since you dug yourself up. It's been a month by now, and I can't stand to see you in pain. I'm sorry, I just couldn't stand to see you die. When I first met you, I immediately knew that I wanted you by my side for eternity.
I decided that I would wait. I would wait for you to come with me. Remember the letter? And I would introduce myself and what I am properly. I would give you time and if you didn't want me, you could go back. If you loved me, I would turn you and you could be happy.
But when I heard that you were to die, I knew that I had to save you somehow. I mean, I don't know how to express this-this...The anger I felt when I was told that you were going to be taken away from me. I started to shake, and I just came up with this plan. I could turn you now!
So I did. I wasn't thinking, I started to panic after the deed was done, but over the years I eventually realized that maybe you would be happy with me.
And now? Now I don't know what to friggin' think."
I stared at him for a long moment. My voice was hoarse, but he could understand. "What does friggin' mean?"
He gawked at me, but he slowly started to smile, and then burst into laughter.
"It's the slang for this time. The lingo in the States at the moment."
I cleared my throat. My voice rung out in the kitchen of the studio apartment (of course, I didn't know it was called that). "Slang? Lingo? States?"
He explained everything that had happened in thorough detail over the years. The colonies declaration of independence to the king. The struggles of a young country. The Civil War. The sixteenth president's assassination. World War I. Hitler. World War II. Korean and Vietnam Wars. And how the language had changed from my time. He didn't really bother with other countries histories. He said that he'd get to that later, when we actually lived there. I nodded and apologized.
"I'm really sorry about the way I've been acting. I just...I am in shock. This is so surreal."
He nodded and smiled.

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5 years later - September 8, 2010

It was a Wednesday morning, when I met him. I had practiced for the finals for months, and I was pumped. (You like my slang now?)

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Subject: Re: The Very Famous Title: Untitled Thu Dec 16, 2010 3:54 pm

This story is unfinished, so there won't be an update.

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