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01 Mar 2006, 7:02 am / Dont know
Blood Red Rose
My name is Mya Brea it is just one of the alias's that I use I am a 3,000 year old vampire. If you’re reading this then you must know my story by now. Well this is how it all started 3,000 years ago...
"Good Morning Mother, Good Morning Father how are you doing today what's the occasion?" "Nothing mother I just feel especially good today and want to share it with you." "Well thank you sweetheart." I don’t know why, but I was feeling really happy that morning. I was usually happy all the time. But this morning I was extra happy mainly at my mother. You see she was really sick and at the time I was living in medicine was really hard to find or it was either too expensive. The reason for these problems were you couldn’t make it or sell it with out being labeled a witch and eventually get killed at a town meeting. So basically our main cure was just religion and if it didn’t cure you then their reason was that god rejected you and your body was possessed by demons. My mother was sick for 6 weeks and it seemed she was getting worse as each day passed. It was pretty hard on me at school and home since I lived in a small town every kid at school knew my mother was sick and not getting better. They would tease me and say things like “look theirs that girl whose mom works for the devil.” They thought I couldn’t hear them but I heard everything. But there was nothing I could do about it because it is what everybody thinks anyway. My whole town is filled with hypocrites. I say this because when my mother was working was well she was always at church or working with the other town mothers at church, she was loved by everyone that met her but when she got sick it was like everybody was ashamed to even know her. I don’t even think she would have made it this far if it wasn’t for me and father sticking by her side and showing her so much love. But no matter how much love we gave her it wasn’t helping her. Father and I were worried. Each day father and I would take turns praying by her side. I would pray for 3 hours each night and on Sundays, Wednesdays and Thursdays we would get the father from church and a few of what’s left of mothers friends and pray some more. She was really sick her body was always too hot to touch and she was shaking like she was freezing cold. I believe she had what is now called pneumonia there was no cure for it so all we could do was pray. Father was really worried about her and very sad but he hid it well. I guess he was trying to be strong for the both of us. Each night while father was praying, I would go into my room and hold the first doll that she ever gave me and cry. I cried for everyone that couldn’t
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