Summer's Journal: Twenty-Third Entry

There are two forms of getting what we want in the family. I am not well versed in either. When there is something I want, I just reach out and take it. Sometimes the direct approach isn’t the best, or that’s what I had been taught.

An IRS agent approached the house today, when he arrived at the door, I was the one who answered, “Are you Jesse Carey?” I shook my head not, “Tha-“ “Then are you Jesse O’Ciardha.” “No. Tha-“ “Is the person who I named currently here?” “Yes, but you’ll want to talk to my father…” “Your father? What’s your last name?” “O’ci-“

“Get me your father little girl.” I bit my lip, and I walked into the library, “Dad, there’s a real bas-“ “Summer, you’re mother would wash your mouth out with soap.” I was frustrated at this point, I couldn’t even finish a sentence this morning. I followed my father out to the IRS agent.

“What’s your name Sir?” My father was taken back immediately by this, “Jeffrey McDubshile.” The IRS agent rolled his eyes, “How is it spelled?” My father spelled it out for him, “This hotel’s deed lies in the name Janus McDubshile. How did you acquire the title?” My father answered, “My father Janus died, thank you for bringing up painful memories.”

The IRS agent looked to his book, “Did you know Jeffrey that the person known as Jesse O’Ciardha who is living at this house owes back taxes for seventeen years?” My father looked thoughtful, “No, no I did not. Are you sure?”

My father winked at me, and the IRS agent looked down at his book, “I was pretty sure… But…I’ll check again.” He looked down, then back up, “Yes, Yes she does owe seventeen years.” My father thought for a second, “Okay but you know she lived in Europe for a long time.”

The IRS agent seemed unphased, “No, she’s still going to have to pay up.” My father sighed, “How much is it?” The IRS agent responded, “$17,341.56.” My father’s eyes widened as did mine, “How?” “All of the land she owns surrounding this mansion, including several plots in the Dakotas and several more in the mountains north of here, and several homes in towns scattered about the United States.”

“Go get your mother.” I did as ordered. This IRS agent had a strong will to resist my dead, and my dad didn’t want to break the poor guy. My dad’s subtle persuasion didn’t even work. I went into my father and mother’s room, and found my mother getting dressed.

“There is an IRS agent here, Dad’s didn’t work. He sent me to get you,” she continued what she was doing without responding to me, and then she walked past me. I followed her, and when my mother crossed the hall, all I heard was.

“WHO ARE YOU TO COME INTO MY HOME AND TO TELL ME I OWE YOU MONEY?!” The IRS agent didn’t even have a chance to respond before my mother went on, “YOUR GOVERNMENT DOESN’T GIVE A SINGLE MOTHER ANY SUPPORT, AND THE ONLY PERSON WHO WILL HELP ME IS JEFFREY, AND HE CAN’T EVEN DO THAT PROPERLY. AND YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE TELLING ME I OWE YOU MONEY?!” He began to stutter, “but-but…” She tore into him again, “NO, NO BUTS. I CAN’T EVEN KEEP HER FED AND IN CLOTHES. LOOK AT HOW PALE SHE IS! NO, BACK UP, AND WALK AWAY!”

The IRS agent was just staring at my mother, he took a step back, “Mam,” he said firmly, “First of all calm down. Second of all, the IRS cannot just ignore $17,000. No matter how good your sob story is. So take a step back down. You own 1,000 acres in Dakato, and the land surrounding here you own 50 acres, and in the mountains nearby you own 300 acres. The land in the mountains contains a small building. In Philadelphia, Elizabethtown, Lover, and Erie Pennsylvania, and you own a house in every state on the eastern seaboard. You are well to do, mam. So pay my the money.”

She calmed down and was speechless. My father was speechless because apparently he didn’t know my mother owned so much land. I concentrated very hard, and a trickle of blood came out of my mouth. I called a banshee to aid me for a moment, and around me, I felt her coldness, and I gave her energy, she manifested, and wailed, and the IRS agent shook with fear, and then fainted.

My father and mother both turned and looked at me, “Summer Dawn,” my father said, “That wasn’t entirely helpful.” I knelt at the book, and I began to read it all. I smiled, “Write it all off.” My mother looked at me, and my father laughed, “Mom, you can write off taxes.”

My father began to write everything down, and he took care of the fraud we were committing. He then woke the IRS agent.

“Are you okay?” My mother asked, “You fainted.” He looked around, “huh?” My father spoke, “Yes, you fainted. It was a mess.” He looked at his papers, “What’s all this?” My father spoke, “I don’t know, you were the one who was writing everything down.”

He nodded, and very confused left the house. I giggled. Maybe the direct approach is still the best approach.

-Dawn

Jesse 2

Excerpts from Jesse’s written Journal:

Day: Early

Month: middle

Season: Spring

So much is new and so many records to keep. Aurora came back. I am older now…stronger.

I have left Grandfather’s house, or more, he rather kicked me out. Abandonment runs in this family, and he is no better then my mother or my sister. Love has died in me. I have severed so I needn’t feel so pained at being dejected again. I have also ceased to feel much pain due to hunger. We haven’t much money and that which we do, I don’t squander on food. I will save. It will help me start my life once the business with the evil one is done.

I have been wandering with Aurora all over the States. We have found so many girls that could have been my sister. So many cities that could have been ours. I remember what it looks like, but I don’t remember the name. I curse myself daily for not having asked my mother when I was with her.

I have come to hate every Werewolf save myself. My Grandfather has scorched me, the burning from inside to out. Every wolf I have run across has challenged me. Their deaths were quick and painless, but I have grown to hate their brash and territorial features. The men especially. Let one in close and they smell it on you forever. You become a possession to them. A female wolf is left to be dominated and claimed. Not this one. I have had too many battles solidifying my own dominance over myself, and no one else’s. It seems every town I go to, I must establish that I am looking not to be dominated, but merely to kill the wolf that calls herself my sister.

Once, in a town, I think the name was Duron, I found a wolf who matched me almost completely. Her fur, her build…even when she was human she looked close to me. Slight difference that could have been acquired with growth from the wretched seven year old I remembered. I fought her, and killed her. Her last dying words filled me with anger. It was a battle of wills and territory. She was not the b*tch I needed. Her name was Clara…and I learned that with her last gasp of air. So much anger filled me. I was so close. I thought I had it…but fate had slipped it in hands and then drew it out between my fingers. I had come back to the small abandoned building I was staying at for the duration of my stay and began to fling things across the room. The sound of snapping and splintering wood as well as the smell of crumbling and destroyed plaster helped to soothe me. I wasn’t as angry anymore. Aurora had come home quickly as well, her tiger by her side. She was in one of my favorite forms: The lame Geisha. I loved this form simply because she could talk to me. It made me happy to talk to her.

“We should go to Janus…” She had suggested. I wouldn’t admit defeat. I would find my sister soon enough. And besides, I didn’t want to admit that seeing him would elicit soft feelings I couldn’t afford.

The fourth city I was at, I drew my line. I was patient, but I couldn’t wait much longer. I wanted this done and I wanted it done now. I conceded…I needed Janus. Aurora and I made our way to the bus station, but without money…I had to use ‘other’ means to acquire tickets. Men are so typical.

The ride to Janus’ house wasn’t long. The walk to his front door took longer. I was awed when I saw his home. It was a huge gothic hotel. When I entered I didn’t know I would be chased around the entire thing by killer ghosts. I didn’t know I’d find my way into Janus’ room where he was laying with a woman on his bed. I didn’t know I would collapse due to lack of food and shock. When I entered, I didn’t know a lot of things.

It is, my deepest regret, to have walked into his bedroom. I saw him, laying there, looking so peaceful…next to her. I hated her. I don’t know why, she hasn’t wronged me at all…she hasn’t even spoken to me, but I hate her all the same. I don’t remember much after I collapsed. I do know I had woken on his couch. Janus, after I had burst into his room and collapsed almost at his feet, felt the need to scold me! Me…like I was some puppy who couldn’t care for herself.

“You are being stupid,” he said simply, “How do you even begin to expect to kill your sister, if you don’t eat?”

I was going to eat…just not at that moment. Finding him and my sister was more important then food. He had disappeared and then come back with water and something like leather. I don’t remember but I know it was some kind of meat. I didn’t want eat unless I knew Aurora was alright. He chided me again like I was some child.

"Aurora, she needs it more then me." I had said, "I'm fine…just tired. Feed her…"

“If you knew anything about mages, you’d know they never have to eat if they don’t want or need to.” From there he proceeded to force feed me food. I didn’t want to eat. I couldn’t waste time. I needed information. A bubbly sensation came over me and I was asleep…or at least I guess I was since the next waking memory is that of me talking to the woman in Janus’ bed. Maybe it was a dream. She kept telling me to wake up and I saw her sitting next to me…and yet still sleeping beside me on the bed. She didn’t really say much to me that I remember. Nothing really of importance to me.

It is odd. I have never been so overcome by dislike for a person who has done nothing to me. A simple word and I wanted to shred her then and there. She had called Janus…her Janus. I don’t know why it had driven through me like a hot pike, but it had and I didn’t like it. She also told me something about my sister and the cure, but I was only half listening, still caught on her words. ‘Her Janus…’ I didn’t understand. I sit here, still trying to figure it out. If she sleeps…how can he be hers? What kind of love is that to share?

~Jesse

Janus' Record: 3

(Recorded on Phonograph)

“I always thought there was some chronological order that needed to be followed when one kept a journal. Especially one like this; one of reflection, normally I would have continued with the continued meetings of myself with my wife. The next one in the series of events always makes me cry when I think about it. I am skipping it for now.

“Instead; my daughter has been doing something that has hurt me lately and I want to get it out in the open. Or out to someone. Who knows no-one may ever hear these and it would be pointless to even say it. I’m rambling now…

“My daughter has not told me about her boyfriend. As far as her speaking to me; I don’t even know who he is or if he exists. She’s been keeping it from me. The only reason I know is because my wife told me.

“Summer Dawn used to tell me everything. She would often in her youth find something in my garden and she would run to me and ask me to explain everything to her. What it was, how it lived, how its body worked together. If it was a plant she would ask me the uses for it.

“She once found my patch of wolfsbane in the back corner. She grabbed a flower and ran it to her mother.

-Laughter-

“Who once she smelled it went feral and ran from the room whimpering and yelping. Summer thought she had hurt her mother and she ran to me crying. She kept saying she was sorry to me. I told her she had done nothing wrong. But that the flower could hurt her mommy very badly.

“She asked why. So I had to explain. She was around four. She had grown up to that point with a vampire for a father and a werewolf for a mother so her mind at that point thought that was the norm. I had to explain to her that not everyone’s families were like that. I told her that the flower was said to have been spawned from the first werewolf’s spilt blood and that originally quicksilver was the only thing that could water it.

“She looked up to me; ‘How?’ She asked. I told her that it was magic. Which was the answer. She nodded. At this point in time she shared her looks with me. Her hair was raven black. She pushed it behind her ear. I remember it clearly; there is no specific reason why. She took the flower and tossed it into the fireplace.

-Laughter-

“The smoke coming from the fire became an allergen to her mother. Jesse kept sneezing for days on end. I had to bring in Giorgio to clean the whole house. Sometimes on the fourth floor, when she enters a couple of the rooms Jesse still sneezes.

“My Daughter got her wonderful red hair from her Godmother. Summer got a lot of things from her Godmother. When Summer was small she showed nothing that would make her abnormal. She was going to be a normal girl. I would like you (The listener) to know, I was fine with this. She would be overwhelmed. Her cousin was Wolfblooded. She showed all the traits of a Dhampir with none of the benefits.

“Thousand Faces; as a sixth birthday present gave each of the children a gift. Brendan’s was to regenerate at a pace that matched my own. Summer’s was the magic gene and red hair. In the structure of each of our DNA which Thousand Faces so kindly and professionally can alter there is lines. Specific lines that determine whether a person is a vampire, werewolf, or a magic user; Summer was lacking all traces of these.

“I did not agree with Thousand Faces’ choice at first. Summer was in a family of werewolves and mages. The only other mage was Thousand Faces herself. But I yield to Thousand Face’s Judgment; her and I have been alive for such a long time we think alike on most subjects. I trust her with my own life. That’s a very small list of people who I feel that way about.

“Magic works differently for each person. No mage has exactly the same powers. I’ve heard that today; as it stands, Summer Dawn is the only Necromancer. The only True Necromancer I should say. All Demons can raise the dead. People who drink Demon blood can too. But Summer is the only true Necromancer.

“How did I get there? Back to Summer when she was younger; When she was a baby and I held her in my arms and she was fussy I would read her Lewis Carroll’s ‘Through the Looking Glass’, she would calm down. Whenever she was hurt or sad she would always grab my copy of the book and stumble over to me and have me read it to her.

“As she progressed in age she also progressed in reading. By her kindergarten year, she was reading and writing at a fourth grade level. By Fourth Grade she was reading at a ninth grade level. By ninth grade she was reading at a college freshman reading level. She’s a sophomore now and she reads well above a college grad level.

“She would always grab books for me to read to her; some of them were textbooks. Some novels. Other poetry books. But everyday I would read her part of a book. For fun; since we do not have television in the house. Mind you I love Television, but Jesse grew up without it, and she felt Summer Dawn would be better off in the same Fashion.

“Television is a bad thing. When books are the only entertainment, then it makes an enjoyment out of books one cannot have with Television. Music is a big thing for Summer. Its very funny. As music has changed throughout the ages my Musical taste changed with it. I find myself listening to the same stuff Summer does. She’ll often come to me, with her hand open, and I will have to hand her, her new Compact Disc.

“Summer also wasn’t always a Goth. She didn’t change to be a Goth until her twelfth year. She realized, then, that Emerson was right with his Self Reliance and that she needed to be different from the corruption that was society. That was also when she…

-Pause-

“Dad?”

“Yes Summer Dawn?”

“It’s the middle of the night. Who are you talking to?”

“The Phonograph, if you consider that a person.”

-Feminine Yawn-

“What are you talking to it about?”

“Life baby-doll.”

“Come and tuck me in? Will you bring Through the Looking Glass? I had a bad dream.”

“What about?”

“A friend of mine getting hurt.”

“Whom?”

“Someone you don’t know… I’ll be up there.”

-Door Closing-

“I’m going to go take care of my baby. She had a nightmare about Chris getting hurt. Whenever she speaks of ‘A friend of mine’, or ‘Someone you don’t know’, then it means Chris.”

Janus' Record: 2

(Recorded on a phonograph)

“I spent the night with The Beast, he only ever spoke highly of his granddaughter. He spoke of little else for the rest of the evening. When it was morning, and I was sure the moon had set, I knew The Beast would not give her any help. Especially to get home.

“I was also sure she wouldn’t want to be naked, especially walking with me. I took off my cloak and began my trek to find her. It didn’t take long, she had left a large path of destruction and it was easy to follow her.

“When I found her, she was naked laying in the fetal position. I gently covered her with the cloak, and I took a step back. ‘Jesse,’ I said, ‘Jesse, time to wake up.’ She woke, looked around, she was very confused. It was almost cute.

“She rose, clasped the cloak, and looked at me for a moment. I remember everything we discussed, but I don’t remember exactly what was said. We spoke about life, and about her being a werewolf, and religion. She had been raised catholic for most of her life, but right now, she was so angry at her sister that she denied the existence of God.

“I’m a nosferatu. I’ve lived for nearly two thousands years, over that time I’ve seen so many miracles of God and seen so many holy people, that if there isn’t a God and I am backing the wrong pony, then it is a sacrifice I am willing to die for.

“She spoke of how angry she was of her sister. The walk took an hour, and it was a nice walk. She was such a strong willed and determined young woman. I admired her for it. I admired her very much.

“When we finally arrived at the house, she turned to say goodbye to me, and I disappeared. I left a black rose for her. The reason I disappeared was simply because I didn’t want to say goodbye to her. I was sure I was going to see her again. I knew we were going to be connected in fate somehow. I just didn’t know how.

“Nor did I know the length our fates would be connected.”

-Longful sigh-

“I am going to go to bed; I want to hold my wife.”

Jesse

Excerpts from Jesse’s written Journal:

Day: Unknown

Year: Lost track

Season: Winter

There isn’t a lot to write about as of right now. I’ve been abandoned and re-found only to be abandoned and claimed again. I am seventeen and living under the roof of my grandfather, The Beast O’Ciardha. He is a stern man, who does not show affection well. His idea of affection is making sure I get to sleep with only mild exhaustion and can make it fully under the covers of my bed. He doesn’t show it well, as I’ve said, but I know he loves me. He is training me. That is love enough.

I’ll start from the beginning…or partially the beginning. I was seven when the girl who shares my face shoved me off the boat and kept mother from finding me under the water. The girl deserves no name and I shall refer to her as either ‘the girl who shares my face’ or ‘the evil one’. That is how I know her in my heart and shall forever know her. They left me to the darkness of the depths of that god-forsaken lake. I don’t remember how but I was found by my dear friend Aurora and she cared for me. She took me to my grandfather’s deep in the mountains in Europe not long after she took me in. I suppose she figured she needed help with raising a child.

My grandfather, a first sight, scared me. Me a child of seven. He had growled at me…I remember that much. So much from that time of my life is blurred but I will never forget the first time I was growled at. He had taken me in, surprised to see me for what I was. I still had no idea what I was exactly.

He trained me and claimed me as the O’Ciardha heir. He is helping me to my goal of killing the evil one. I celebrated my seventeenth birthday last week. It was an interesting experience. My gift for the day was being able to sleep in. Usually Grandfather wakes me just before the sun rises so I can meditate. Then I study from his books. We take a small break for tea and lunch and then for the rest of the day he works me in combat. I have learned a lot from him. On my birthday, he let me sleep until the time I would have finished meditating. He woke me and took me straight to my book studies. With lunch I got a few extra moments to rest myself before one of the most intense combat sessions.

We sparred long into the evening. I walked away, barely, with a bunch of bruises and very sore. I think I was let off easy. He wasn’t as tired as he usually was when we finished sparring. I soaked in a warm bath for a while, trying to rid the bruises and my muscles of the ache I knew would be coming. When I was getting ready for bed I noticed that the moon was out and I heard birds, Nightingales (or were they Mockingbirds), I believe. Feeling, still, very restless and energetic I decided I was going to go for a walk. I grabbed a light sweater and put on my shoes.

The walk outside was refreshing. I remember it vividly. It was damp, it had rained earlier, and the ground was still crunchy with the dead leaves of fall. The moon was shining through the branches of the trees, and it made me feel odd. It was almost full and the night dress I was wearing seemed to glow and float as I walked. At one point I even went so far as to feel as if I’d been transformed into some majestic but fierce animal. I remember telling myself, “Stop being so silly. You are you…you have no changed and you will not for a time.” Then I felt stupid for actually voicing concern to myself. I laughed and took off at a run. The wind was cold but it felt great. It was exhilarating. I stopped at a hill and looked down. There was a small town down at the foot of the large hill I was on. I wanted to go forward, but I didn’t. I turned around and walked back along the path I had come. I heard some twigs breaking, which usually would not have alarmed me…but theses twigs weren’t on the ground behind me…they were in the trees above me. I remember looking up and seeing someone up in the trees. He, or at least I think it was a he, had wings. I didn’t stay long enough to catch his scent. I ran. I ran as fast as I could go. Grandfather had taught me to be wary of everyone. I wasn’t sure, but men in trees with wings certainly qualified as that. I went to my room, brushing past Grandfather when he questioned me about what had happened and where I had gone. I went to sleep, staring at my window envisioning the man with his wings sitting outside my window, plotting. Plotting what I didn’t know…but freshly at seventeen…I was scared.

The week went by quickly. Last night was the most interesting night I have experienced during the span of my life so far. I woke late in the night and heard voices. One I recognized…the other I did not. I am curious…to a fault. I crept from my bed and hid by the door. I suppose I wasn’t quiet enough and I was heard. I knew Grandfather would be mad, but the other man, chided him lightly and invited me into the room. I felt as if I’d seen him before, but I had never met him. He was…breathtaking. I am very sheltered. The closest I’ve come to another person…much less a man besides Grandfather, was the hill just over the town hidden in the middle of the forest. I was intimidated and I know it irked Grandfather to see me as such. I felt like a bumbling idiot. I felt timid and scared.

The worst of it…he spoke to me. Not like I would have expected to have been spoken to. He actually spoke to me as an equal. Granted, Grandfather spoke to me like that normally, but the books I usually read, being old and out-dated, only showed women to be seen as unequal and subservient. I knew he was old. I could smell it in his scent. It was surprising to see he held more modern views of girls.

He made me feel odd, still does. My insides fluttered and shook and made me feel sick. There was no reason for this so I simply concluded that it was because I was so close to someone other then my grandfather. The conversation was quick…I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I had interrupted a conversation that I felt needed to be finished. That, and Janus, as I had learned was his name, was making me nervous by looking at me. I didn’t understand why I felt in such a way, but my musings were cut short as pain; searing and blinding pain shot through my body. That was all I remembered until I woke to the early light, laying naked out in the middle of the woods.

My mouth was full of a gross taste and my skin was chilled from the wetness beneath me. I noticed I had a cloak laid on me and Janus was peering down at me. I was mortified. My stomach was dancing within me and my limbs shook from something other then the cold. I didn’t understand it. I gathered his cloak about me and sat up, searching for where I was. "What happened? Where am I?" I had asked.

“You are outside of town.”

"And what happened to get me here?"

“You became a werewolf, as your father did, and his father before him.”

"So why am I here? Shouldn't I have just stayed back at home?"

“No, when you become a werewolf for the first time you lose control of all your actions, and you hunt. You kill. Now you are conscious again, and never have to worry about losing control again.” I knew that… I don’t know why I had asked him such a stupid question. I blame the cold and my disorientation from just waking. He lead me home, asking me questions. Something in me said to impress. To flaunt the knowledge I had. He asked and I answered.

When he left I felt sad. So many emotions that were so foreign to me. I don’t like it. He left with a flourish of his cape and a single black rose. I have to rose next to me, sitting on my nightstand as I write this. I will press it and keep it with me. I can’t ask why, but something pulls in me to keep it and press it. Well, it is late and even as I write this my eyes begin to close so I bid you good night and until tomorrow.

~Jesse

Janus’ Record: 1

(Kept by Phonograph)

“Everyone around me is keeping journals, except me. When I write I don’t seem to think as clearly, it comes out as an elaborate story where only half of it is true, and the rest is made up in my mind, or jumbled, respectively. Dr. Seward kept one. I should too.

“I am using this rather than a response and release from the events of the day, I will begin to take a chronicle of my life. I know for a fact I do not have enough room to keep all of the records. So I will pick the most important events of my life and record them.

“My wife’s name is Jesse; she’s been a wonderful wife, and she and I have a wonderful daughter named Summer Dawn. But she wasn’t always my wife, as the case would be, and knowing that she may one day hear this recording I will be sure to speak the truth, as I am sure she did about me in her old tattered journal.

“Hmmm… That was such a short time ago, but it is not resurfacing as I had hoped it would. My later memories with her are overwhelming when she and I met. I remember where… and… There. I’ve got it now. Forgive me Jesse, you know how my mind works sometimes, and likewise how it doesn’t work at all.

“When I first met Jesse Carey, because her given name was Carey at that time, she was with her Grandfather, being trained to become the perfect warrior.”

-Laughter-

“I think he did it a little too well; back then love was something foreign and forgotten to her. She had been hurt very badly by those she loved. I was sitting in her Grandfather’s library. He was smoking one of his pipes, and he and I were drinking tea.”

-Laughter-

“The Beast O’Ciardha drinking tea, that’s still something, I will never forget seeing; a man who I had seen uncomfortable at a formal dinner because there were too many articles of silverware, and for someone who ate directly from the source hands and teeth only. He held the cup daintily. That had to sound like me rambling.

“But I was sitting with The Beast, and we were discussing Jesse. He kept swearing to me, over and over again she was going to change the world. That as soon as she left she would change the world; I had to say I was skeptical. I had seen many people who had claimed the same thing.

“When she first entered the room, the smell of a soon to be changed werewolf filled my nostrils, and I raised my eyebrow to inspect her. I watched her movement, she moved like water. She was golden, fair, Aryan by every definition. She was so young.

“I don’t remember the conversation exactly. It happened to long ago. I do remember the basic just of the whole thing. I was talking to her, she was still young enough to remember what it was like to know what we didn’t know.

“I asked her about why she was with The Beast. The conversation came to her sister, Page. From what I gathered, Page had shoved Jesse over the edge of the boat. Though the story is still confusing to me; I know for a fact now that is not true. But at the time, neither her nor I knew this.

“I do remember one thing that was said perfectly however, whenever Jesse had first entered the room she felt uncomfortable with me. Which I understood, my wings were out, and my wings are terrifying, ‘This is Janus, he’s not harmless, but he’ll cause you no harm.’

“Jesse was so dead set and determined to kill her sister; I had to admire her. I had never had that much conviction in much of anything. I always lived to continue to live, but she lived to kill her sister.

“’Don’t kill my sister,’ she said firmly, but her eyes pleaded with me as if it was my goal too, ‘That’s my job.’ I couldn’t help but honor that wish. I knew from that moment on, until Jesse found Page to kill her, that I would need to keep Page alive. I had to.

“She left the room, her change was coming so quickly, and she had no idea it was. When I told him, he responded with ‘at seventeen?’ I remember saying, ‘At seventeen.’ We both heard a growl erupt from her, and her scream and then howl in pain. Her window broke, and she ran outside.”

“Janus?”

“Yes lover?”

“Who are you talking to?”

“No-one.”

“Come to bed. Its cold without out.”

“Yes dear… To be continued.”

-End recording-

Aurora's Journal: Seventh Entry

“Can you do anything?” I clicked twice, “I think I can get you out of those bindings.” She whispered. She scooted towards me, and began to twist and rip at the vines, and finally I was released. I stretched outwards and I smiled.

“Can you get me out of this silver?” Silver? They were never smart enough to use silver before. I reached to her neck, and I felt the silver necklace. It was tired with hemp rope. But Page still couldn’t touch it or untie it. It was attached to something silver.

I began to untie it in the darkness, it was a complex knot, not because it was tied that way, but because it wasn’t tied that way. It was a series of knots that all made no sense to be together.

When it came off her neck, she hugged me tightly, “We can get the hell out of here now, but what are those things?” I closed my eyes, did I have enough magic to change forms? If I did there was a form I had to take.

I reached into my scalp, and my hands melted in, and I pulled my skin down. My body became Rapier’s dead wife. I pulled up on the skin and I had clothes. She sighed. “Was that the form you had to take?” “Yes,” I responded in a whisper.

“What are those things?” “Bunyips.” “Elaborate.” “Bunyips are little vermin, they are as strong as werewolves, as smart as humans and feed like vampires, except they can eat anything. Their sole weakness is they are instinct driven.” “Thanks Professor, can I take them?”

“Yes. We can take them. They aren’t acting like normal tough, they scarcely used their intelligence before. Now they seem driven.” “Do they live in swamps?” “Yes, mostly.” “That’s why I smelled swamp. These things were taking humans away from my city, and I had to retort, I tracked them and they caught me.”

A feral growl erupted in her lower chest. Her muscles began to shift, there was popping noises as her bones shifted, she crotched down with both hands, and fur began to sprout from her body. The room filled with heat, and howl filled the air. That was a little much.



I had to change quickly, and my body did the same thing to change, we stood, two large werewolves against three bunyips. They screeched and as they did they ran into the room, leaping at me. Knowing I was their natural predator.



She ripped into one, tossing it against the wall. She bit down hard on its head, and ripped its bone and flesh from it spurting blood everywhere. The two that were on me however were trying to penetrate my thick hide.



I grabbed one with my claw and threw it at Page, who caught it in her mouth, held it on the ground, and put both paws on it, and ripped it into three. The last one was far too big for us to do that.



I shoved on it, and she leapt to it. I grabbed one end, and she grabbed the other, our claws pushed into its soft flesh, and we pulled against each other, each of us biting down on the part closest to us, and we shredded.



His cry echoed through the cave, and with that we knew we were done. We didn’t change though, we weren’t going to change until we were safely outside. When we got into the main cave, both us had to shake. I know I did. Those three were the males. The females, there were about thirty of them, and each of them had a couple of kids, and they had us surrounded.

I howled, and she howled. The bunyips screamed. It had to be funny to anyone looking in. I didn’t think it was funny at all. Several of them leapt at her, and several at me. And the massacre that ensued from her and I was terrible. The Bunyip Pups, the Bunyip woman fell one by one, one after another.

I don’t know who saved these, and I don’t how they avoided the death I was giving to them, but all I knew was that I hoped after today, I would never ever have to deal with another bunyip again.

We stayed cautious and full wolf form until we exited the cave. Finally when we saw the moonlight we both released out wolf forms, and collapsed into each other. We were laughing, or crying, or both. Finally after some of our energy returned, we stared at each other for a long time.

Her and I aren’t the closest people in the world. I almost destroyed her entire world a long time ago, and I understand her spite.

“I just wanted you to know, that the gift you gave us was more than I could have ever asked for.” “I wanted to make amends, just like your sister needed to.” “I love my son, and it was amazing to go through it. Thank you for making Rapier human for that time.” “I hope it was everything you wished for.”

“Look, Thousand Faces, the family is probably worried sick, why don’t you come home with me?” “No… I think I need to make my own path.” “Okay…” she said as she walked away from me slowly, “Thanks… For saving me.”

“I could say the same, Page.”

Aurora's Journal: Sixth Entry

After the incident with the illuminati I decided to take the long way around. Or more, my tiger did. He had it in his head to go north before going east and east was the way to Janus’. We finally stopped up north, near Pymatuming Lake.

My tiger, for some reason, wanted to go through the swamps of Northern Pennsylvania instead of going right through the temperate forest of the southern part of the state. It was towards nightfall when he finally wanted to rest.



I laid down on a bed of moss, it was getting colder out, so we had to lay together. Not that much mattered to either of us. I closed my eyes and slept. How sweet it is to sleep, without worry.

No. Life doesn’t work like that. The night held sounds, sounds I haven’t heard for a long, long time. Back when I was still very, very young. I started my life after meeting Coyote.

They were cries. They pierced the night sky, and when I heard them I jumped awake, and my tiger jumped up and got ready to fight. I withdrew both of my tomahawks. The cries came closer.

I didn’t think any were still around, I thought I had killed them all. They should all be dead! I focused in the night, and I saw the first one…



I tried to scream; I tried to tell him to get away, that he wasn’t ready for them… I don’t know if he got the message before they were on top of me. I tried to fight, but these ones were smarter, the one who was up front was the decoy as the other two came from behind. One bit on my wrist, and started feeding from my magic, and the other, used a vine to wrap around me.

I tried to fight out of it, but it was too late. They had me bound, magic drained, and they all began to carry me.

Bunyips. I thought I had killed the last of those. When I started off in the world, these creatures of the night began to spread. I had to kill several of them in America. Then Europe, and finally I found the source, Australia.

I used to slay these things, not only could they feed from anything, mages, wolfies, vamps and humans, they needed to feed twice a day.





They were speaking, it had been so long, and I thought I had killed them all, so I forgot their language. I was going to be a meal, unless I figured out how to get out of this mess.

They carried me towards a cave, and we went through the pond in front of it, they swam well, even with my weight. But that was how they got across oceans.



The cave was dark, and without my magic I couldn’t see too well, so all I had was the light coming in from the outside, which was just moonlight, and it scarcely gave me anything to work with.



They tossed me into a prison? I felt someone else in it. I sat there for a long while, letting my eyes adjust. Whoever it was, was very scared of me. Could they see me?



“Who is there?” a voice whispered. I wasn’t in a form that could speak, so I hushed whoever it was softly, and I clicked my tongue.

“Can you talk?’ I clicked twice. “Can you see me?” I clicked twice. “Maybe together we can get out of here,” she said, “my family is probably looking for me.”

I scooted towards the voice, and the closer I got the more I realized I knew this person. It was my ‘daughter’s’ twin sister. She gasped when she saw me.

“Aurora.” I clicked once. “We have to get out of here, and I am sure together we can do it, but what the hell were those things?” I sighed. “We need to come up with something…”

Summer's Journal: Twenty-Second Entry

Brendan didn’t take it well yesterday to say the least, and as I write this my aunt is still missing, and every hour since I found out, I’ve become more and more upset. To write this now, is taking a great amount of control, but I need to record my thoughts and concern since it will tear me up if I do not do something about them.

Uncle Rapier is the most broken, he is blaming himself totally, and hasn’t stopped looking for her since we found out. We can’t even find him, and when we call him, he answers, and says, “I haven’t found her yet.”

Brendan and Lara are in little better condition; Brendan is following every single scent trail. Lara is shaking down people, trying to find her. Mother has turned full wolf, and has been looking on the outskirts of town, and finding nothing.

It is looking hopeless. The only two people in my family who are not freaking out completely are dad and I, and I am close to breaking.

I am so ashamed of myself… Today when I was walking through town instead of searching with my eyes and my voice, I started looking for a corpse. I dare not tell anyone in my family, but I searched and I searched all over town, and I found no-one who matched my aunt. I was so thankful for that.

Then my father called. He asked me to come to him, he was in the far end of town. I ran there, and was dead tired by the time I arrived. “Smell,” he said. I did as ordered, I didn’t smell anything.

“Smell further down that way, I smell decaying flesh.” My heart dropped. I walked down the alley, morbidly. I smelled, and I recoiled. I ran to my dad, and I hugged him and I began to cry on his chest. I hit him. Not because it was his fault, but because I was so angry, and frustrated.

My knees gave out beneath me, “Please tell me you’re lying… Please tell me its not her.” He spoke softly, “I cannot find the source…” I closed my eyes, and I reached out, looking for a corpse, and I didn’t find it, but with a smell so strong it had to be there somewhere.

I sighed happily, “Nothing is there…” Dad stumbled backwards, He began to cry as well. I knelt next to him. I was scared, truly scared now, and he knew it. He was the strength of the family. He was the one who supported the weight of the family and he broke.

What was in store for the family if the strongest member just broke? I hugged him. Then I went down to the end of the alleyway. I smelled strongly, I had a human nose; everyone else in my family has an advanced sense of smell. So I smelled, and tried to pinpoint, when I found it, it was a shirt. Nothing in it, and it didn’t smell like decaying flesh, decaying flesh smells far different, this was vegetable matter, it smelled of the swamp.

“Dad, its just a smelly old shirt,” I said, “I am going to keep looking.” Brendan and I passed each other silently. It was hard to see him looking like that, and I knew if I tried to stop him it would be futile.

His eyes were dead and tired. But he walked by me. I was the least helpful of everyone. But I had to keep searching. Finally, it became nightfall, and my father told me to find Brendan, knock him unconscious and wake him in the morning to look again. He told me he needed sleep.

The vampires kept looking. With little or no need for sleep, they didn’t have to stop.

When I found Brendan, I tried to stop him, and he pushed by me. I took out my silver hammer, and I hit him in the back of the head. He slumped onto the ground. I knelt to him, held him, and used my necklace to take him back to my house.

I dragged him to my bed, and I laid him in it. I put a cool rag on his head, and I covered him with a blanket. I kissed his cheek.

“She would not go gently into that good night,” I spoke to him. I then began to write what is written here now. I am still, so worried, and I want to see Aunt Page again, I want her to be safe.

-Dawn

Summer's Journal: Twenty-First Entry

I looked at Chris… Our eyes stared into one another’s. Deeply, I looked down into him, his feelings, and his thoughts. I rubbed the back of his hands with my thumbs. I kissed his fingers, one by one, gently, softly.

He smiled softly at me, and I smiled at him while I kissed the next finger over. I kissed his last pinky. I held both of his hands in mine, and I smiled again at him, my lips gently turning up.

His eyes, his deep eyes; those deep wonderful eyes made me forget all of my problems. Everything in the back of my head that constantly hounds at my consciousness, everything that tries to break free, all wicked thoughts and all thoughts of anything negative vanish.

All that there is, is him and I. I can never see anything but those eyes, and I calm down. I rubbed my thumbs over the back of his hand, harder this time, letting him know what I was feeling. I wanted to kiss him.

We hadn’t gotten to kiss yet. I’ve wanted to, and so has he, and it was clear we were both trying to kiss each other. So I leaned forward, my head pushing away from my shoulders, my neck extended and my eyes closed.

I felt his warmth come closer to me, and his lips near mine, and I pushed forward, but suddenly we both heard, “Get a room!”

I pulled back from him, and I sighed heavily as I turned, “Seriously, she’s like, not even your type… Just look at her.” I looked at who it was; it was one of Ashley’s minions. Chris looked at her, “What do you honestly know about her?” “She’s some freak witch.” I said, “You’re right, I am a witch, and if you’re not careful I will cast a spell on you. I’ll give you acne, make you an alcoholic and make sure you’re cursed to be pregnant before you’re twenty.”

She took a step back, I began to speak in Latin, and I spouted the first thing I thought of, “Usurpo id rosa et vado ab amor. Usurpo id rosa et vado ab amor. Usurpo id rosa et vado ab amor.” She looked fearful, as I waved my hands back and fourth. She ran off.

I sat down and looked at Chris, who smiled and laughed softly. “What?” I asked. “Your phrase, that’s all.” I giggled, “I was trying to think as fast as I could.” He took my hands in his, and squeezed them tightly, I felt warm inside.

“Take this rose and go in love,” he said, “I would have run to your arms.” “Sweetie,” I said, “You’d need a rose to do that…” He thought for a second, “I’ll be sure to get one. The weekend is coming up. Let’s you and I go for a walk in the park Saturday.” I said, “That sounds wonderful.” He hugged me and walked away.

Finally, a date with my boyfriend, nothing supernatural to interfere, my cell phone began ringing, it was my mother, “Hello Mom,” I said with a smile. “Summer,” her tone was bad, really bad. “Mom, what’s wrong?” She took a long tear filled pause. “Mom… What’s wrong?” She took another long pause, and finally spoke, “You’re Aunt Page is missing. No-one knows where she is, and your father and uncle can’t pick up the trail.”

I sat down, “Does Brendan know?” There was a pause, and then she spoke again, “No… We are hoping to find her before he has to know.” I began shaking, “Mom… I’m on my way home…” I grabbed my necklace.

Somehow, I knew today was too peaceful. I am writing this until school is over, and I have to go tell Brendan. Its going to be terrible. Why is she making me tell him?!

-Dawn

Summer's Journal: Twentieth Entry

Chris held me, which was all I really wanted. I wanted him to hold me. I separated myself from Brendan. Was it his fault? It wasn’t even clear anymore. I can re-read again, and again, the thoughts that went on in my head in appropriate order, in whole exactness. No words to sweeten them, nothing.

Chronicling my life in a journal, like my mother did before me, because its hard to keep straight the thoughts that occurred first, and what I was thinking whilst I look back on it. Because I am writing this, knowing exactly what Chris and I talked about after he held me, but my thoughts melded, and I know it was my fault.

It was my fault, I was to blame, read this world, and I take the blame.

Chris noticed immediately something was wrong. The first thing was, I didn’t come to school with Brendan, which I do every morning. The second thing that gave it away was my makeup, the mask of my moods. Instead of being fined and exact it was random, and chaotic. My eyebrow penciling was wild, and the tribal tattoos reflected black blades dipped in blood.

He seemed afraid of me at first. I watched his eyes as they scanned my face, and he noticed how dark my makeup was. He reacted in kind, he quietly followed me. I didn’t want him to follow and be quiet, I wanted him to speak, I wanted him to tell me everything would be okay, and that it wasn’t my fault.

So he held me, I had yet to speak a word, and so did he. Were we communicating on a different level? “So,” he said after a long while, “What happened on All Souls day?” I was shocked, how did he know it was that specific day? “How much blood did you drink?” I pulled away from him.

“It was my own,” I said shortly and with temper towards him, “How the hell do you…” “Summer,” he said assuredly, “I can’t pretend to know what its like. But what happened?”

I told him. It would make little sense to repeat the whole of the day’s events here. “So what really happened?” I looked in shock at him, “How dare you?” He blinked heavily, “Summer, your uncle didn’t come to you with red in his eyes, and hit you without reason. Brendan wouldn’t feel the need to hold you down, without reason? What are you not telling me?” I hung my head low, “I…” “Summer,” he said knowingly. I re-explained it to him, using an almost exact same story of my previous Journal entry.

He didn’t understand, I could see it in his eyes, and my mood was upsetting him, so I tried to smile and joke about it, “It can’t be that bad to have a girlfriend who likes to be in control of the situation, is it?” He didn’t laugh. I frowned, “Chris, please… say something.”

“Summer, I…” I looked at him, “You?” “I think you were wrong. I’m sorry. But look at it from their point of view. You were letting your powers take control of you. You were prepared to kill innocents for more zombies. You were using magic just so you could drink blood. Summer, I’m sorry.”

I was angry. He was supposed to agree with me. I stood, and stormed off. It was halfway between the building and where Chris was, that I realized, I was wrong, and they were right.

I ran back to him, he was crying. Why was he crying? I leapt onto him, tackling him to the ground. I laid next to him and kissed his neck, like my Aunt Page does to my Uncle Rapier when she is wrong. I kissed it again and again, “I’m sorry Chris… I’m so sorry…”

He began to laugh. Tears filled my eyes and threatened to fall, he was laughing at me, “I was about to come after you, and tell you the same thing,” he said, “It’s funny,” I smiled a little.

“Chris, thank you, for listening to me, and telling me I was wrong… I was very angry at my family.” “That’s what I’m here for,” he responded. I smiled and leaned up to Kiss him.

“Hey Babydoll,” Brendan said to me, I huffed and I looked at Brendan, “Yes?” “You feeling better?” “Yes, I’m sorry?” “Hey,” Brendan said, “Its not your fault dead people get you all excited.”

I shoved on him, “Brendan!” I screamed, I stormed away from him. Chris was laughing lightly. I turned around and stormed back to Brendan, and shoved him, “And don’t call me babydoll!” Chris laughed at Brendan. It wasn’t funny…

Okay… Maybe a little, but that’s not something you tell someone! And it’s not my fault! I’m half damned vampire, and a full necromancer. Gawd!

-Dawn

Summer's Journal: Nintenth Entry

I am slacking off, not only have I been too tired for the past week; I haven’t even begun to keep up a journal. I have very good reason, I became very busy. All Saints day was terrible, not only did I have to help defend my house from hunters; I had to keep them from wrecking my things.

Hunters have no sense of possession, to them we are mindless killing machines that try and kill everyone, and we aren’t that at all! We have souls! We have feelings! We care about life! We… Want to be human… Or at least I do… I’m not ashamed of what I am. I am scared. What happens if I fall asleep with my arm over Chris, and I accidentally cast a spell?

What if I drain his life-force? What if I make him into a skeleton? I shouldn’t think such things.

The day after, All Souls’ Day, we change the tides. Humans feel lack luster, forlorned, sad, especially those who knew we exist. So we, instead, raid them. It was interesting, to change the tides on them for the first time (for me). They had wrecked my music collection, and I was going to wreck stuff of theirs.

The closest hunter’s guild was west, in West Virginia, but still within striking distance. I was to go with my cousin, and Uncle Rapier, to hit a Wolf-Snare Outpost. That was to the North West on top of the closest mountain. It was a cabin, and an underground complex.

The Wolf-Snares are pretty bad for Werewolves, which is why my uncle and I are flanking Brendan, who is still only a wolf-blood. These guys are trained since birth to hunt wolves, and they seek to make them extinct.

They were asleep, when we arrived, tired from the raid yesterday. When we opened the cabin door, Uncle Rapier disabled the alarm system the way he knew how. He cut it. I smiled, and both Uncle Rapier and Brendan stood away from me. The room was filled with fetishes of dead wolves.

Bone sculptures, all of them terrifying to scare people away. My mouth filled with blood. I heard rattling as my eyes closed, and I concentrated. The blood was sweet today, I swallowed it, and licked my lips.

I think I made Brendan uncomfortable, he squeezed my hand, and wiped my lips off with a cloth strip, “Dawn, calm down.” I didn’t think I was excited. But I could tell I was since my hand shook with joy, as I laid my eyes upon the skeletons. I smiled brightly.

“Dawn,” he said again, “Summer Dawn, calm down.” I looked at him, and I shook the excitement from me, “I am calm Brendan.” My uncle stood in a defensive position in front of the werewolf skeletons.

“Obey me,” I said to them, and they stood at command. My uncle found the door downwards. He opened it, and we crawled down, there were six of them, all asleep, wearing the furs of previous kills, their beards were grown out, and I smelled testosterone and filth.

My uncle slit the first one’s throat, and he grumbled, as the others all jumped awake, my three fetishes all leapt on one, and Brendan, stood defending me, as a silver blade came towards him, he ducked and I took a step back, as my uncle, blocked the blade, and shoved his into the man’s chest, the blood gushed from it, pouring on the ground. I could have swore I saw his heartbeat.

“Mine!” I yelled as, the blood filled my mouth again. I tasted the crimson liquid again, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. A moan bubbled in the blood in my mouth. I grabbed the hunter that was slit, and I sent his corpse towards the one who my Uncle had cut open, and I grabbed him.

Two zombies now stood between Brendan and I, and the other hunters. The fetishes finished, and I grabbed the next hunter, and the blood heated and bubbled in my mouth, as the next zombie rose, to move against the other three, my uncle killed another through impalement. I grabbed it too, the next fellows stood their ground back to back, and their grunting and growling seemed more feral then we were acting.

The zombies walked through their blades, and they ripped one apart, and the fetishes leapt on the other. I grabbed him too. My breathing began to quicken, I swallowed the blood, my body heated.

I wanted more of them, I wanted more zombies. Brendan pushed me against the wall. “Summer! Stop!” The zombies and fetishes all began to head towards Brendan. “They’re mine Brendan!” He pushed me back again, “No! Release them so their souls can go too!” “They’re mine!” Uncle Rapier removed the zombie’s heads, and kicked the skeletons.

“No!” I screamed, they were killing my soldiers, “No! They’re mine! Stop it!” Uncle Rapier kicked the last one again, and I screamed, “They are mine! Mine!” My tears streaked down like fire. I kept searching for something dead.

“Summer, I’m sorry,” Uncle Rapier said, “Hold her still Brendan.” Brendan pushed me hard, and I tried to fight against him. I spat at him, my bloody spit ran down his face, as Uncle Rapier did something to make me black out.

I woke in my room, and I had a terrible headache. I had been out eighteen hours, it was 11 in the morning on Friday. I rubbed my eyes, and I looked around, trying to determine what had happened.

What was wrong with me in the head? Something is wrong. I need Chris, I also won’t get to see him until Monday.

-Dawn

Summer's Journal: Eightenth Entry

I love and hate Halloween. I hate Halloween because everyone dresses up in costume and pretends to be witches, wizards, vampires, werewolves, zombies, and even cartoon characters. People make a mockery of what I am.

I am a witch, I am part vampire, I am part werewolf. It is a terrible day. In general, of course, I have to get dressed up, and I do every year. My mother wakes me in the morning, and together we put together an outfit.

My father assists us in getting materials. This year, I decided to send a message to everyone at school. I put on a blonde wig, and had my mother do my makeup. It took my father a while to find the feature of the costume, a pregnant belly.

In the end I smiled when I looked in the mirror. It was a perfect representation of what our culture has become. I was a pregnant cheerleader, I held an empty unlabeled bottle in my hand, and I had a pack of candy cigarettes in my bra.

I smudged the make up some. I looked at my mother. She looked at me. We laughed together, “Remember its special you come home tonight. Spend your time with Chris, and be home by five.”

“Yes mam.” I grabbed my book bag and I activated my necklace, making me appear at Brendan’s house. I looked at my cousin, he was dressed as a, that’s right, a werewolf.

“Nice Summer, how many fights do you want to get into today?” I raised my eyebrow, “Interesting choice.” He responded with, “If you can’t laugh at yourself, then why laugh.” I tapped my fingers impatiently. Chris walked down the street, and he met with us, “By the way, Happy Birthday Brendan.” Brendan immediately shifted. I knew he didn’t like the fact he was born on Halloween.

Chris was wearing a Gomez Adam’s outfit. I tapped my finger impatiently, which he responded with, “I thought you hated Halloween, why would you dress up for it? I did it because I figured you could be my Morticia… But I like your costume… It’s going to tick off a lot of people.”

I smiled, together we walked to school. Brendan pulled Chris back, and Chris immediately ran up, “Summer!” Chris said. I stopped, “Happy Birthday.” I kissed his cheek and hugged him, “Thanks dear, but it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“It is to me, Happy Birthday.” I held his hand, and together we walked into school. I separated from him, I didn’t want him to get hassled for my actions, and he realized that. The first person to come up to me was the head cheerleader. She was dressed in the skimpiest thing she could find.

A really short skirt, a revealing tube top, and nothing else to cover herself; she stared at me intently. That’s another frustrating thing about Halloween, every girl feels the need to dress like a slut. Then if they called up on it, they can deny it.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” She asked. “Making a statement,” I responded, “Perhaps its one you could learn from.” “You think that’s what’s going to happen to me?” “No, Its just a statement, you can back off.” “You think you are cool?” “I am when I wear this outfit. I represent your darker side, what you deny doing yourself.”

She shoved on my shoulder, I hit the locker and I laughed, “Perhaps next year, I should make black bruises all over me.” I walked by her. That wasn’t the first encounter, but all of them ended and began in the same way.

The day crawled by, and I pretty much went through the motions. At the end however, Chris was waiting for me. His hands were behind his back, and he smiled at me. He pulled a dozen long stem roses from behind his back.

I took a step back, not out of fear but because I didn’t know how to react. I think I cried, I know I wanted to kiss him, and I ran to him, and as we were about to meet lips, and Brendan ran up to me, “Summer. Its almost five.”

I slapped Brendan, I smiled at Chris. I kissed his cheek again, and hugged him tightly to me. It was so sweet of him. I kissed his cheek another time. I took his hand in mine. He handed me the roses. I cradled them in my arm like a child. Another tear streaked down my cheek.

I would love to go into great depth and describe my happiness in his action towards me. I wanted to kiss him, so badly, but with Brendan there, I could never do it. I’ve never been kissed before on the lips. If Brendan was there it would ruin my first kiss.

Needless to say, I was rushed away from Chris. Our family has a tradition. On our birthday, we get together as a family, and we sit, eat a meal, do cake and presents, and swap stories. On November 1st, we all stay in my house, as does my aunt’s pack, and anyone they care about.

November 1st is a bad day for us all to be out. All Saints day we all lose everything that makes us special. My dad is weakned to being a human, my mom and aunt can’t change. I can’t cast magic.

November 1st is also when we need it the most. The hunters and the Illuminati seem to pick All Saints Day to hunt us, and I can’t blame them. We can’t defend ourselves. But on November 2nd All Souls day, the tables turn. The hunters become weaker, and we become stronger.

But that’s for tomorrow and the next day’s entry (maybe). But as far as the ‘party’ is concerned, nothing happened different. To me a birthday is just another day and nothing else. The presents I got, did make me smile however, a whole stack of hunting gear, I would be stocked for a long time. I also got more makeup and clothing. My dad spoiled me on my birthday. And this birthday, to make up for saying he was disappointed in me, he got me, extra presents.

Uncle Rapier spoiled Brendan in the same way. And together we had a pile of loot anyone could be jealous of. I appreciated all of my gifts. But the one I found myself longing to hold and look at were Chris’ roses.

I guess I kind of love Halloween.

I guess.

-Dawn