Birth of Night

While I admit I was the sort of writer to sneak around the graveyard and the darker markets, I must say I didn't expect it to come to this. Most laughed at me for my name: Travling Shade. They jabbed at my purposed typo and made scars. Still, please allow me to explain myself.

I was always one to watch from afar. Suiting now I suppose.  My friends sold so many bazar goods that made me wonder how they came across them- or even made them. Living flames which dance across candle wicks are a favorite of mine. Aster ,a dear friend, prefers the self writing pens that write what the owner tells them across paper at command. Ownership is decided by tying a strand of hair around the outside of it or drop of saliva in the pen chamber. Still it was seldom we bought from the darker market.

Despite the strangeness, enjoyed the crowd and merchants- the man who bought a year of your life and gifted you with a stories worth of inspiration, the woman who sold notebooks with or without lines with infinite  pages that never grew heavier, the child who made color changing paint, and so many more strangers with secrets to guard. It was a remarkable place which promised unforgettable experiences.

That world of lore and secrets became where I reside now because I can never go back. I tried for so long to live among the humans- to hide what I became. I failed, and I failed miserably. For six months I concealed my fangs and feeding habits -I chose larger beasts over humans fearing STDs- but then I grew ill. Not having fed on humans my immune system was weakened drastically. Fledglings never did repeat the benefits of stronger vampires and I would not either until I changed another.

Either way, I was ill. My parents brought me to the hospital once my fever peaked 102 degrees Fahrenheit. I didn't have a pulse or a heart rate ,but I was responsive and had brain activity. What was most concerning was what they didn't know: I was starving for human blood.

A science teacher once told me your body knows what it needs and if you listen it will tell you. My body knew what it needed and wasn't waiting for me to listen any longer-I couldn't blame it- so it took it. It took three people's lives that day: two nurses and a doctor. My parent's were devastated.

Most wonder how this happens- how one becomes a vampire. Mine wasn't a tale of thrilling romance, violence, or horror. It went back to my graveyard nights. I had been writing in the cemetery and as I wrote I would read the paragraphs aloud to myself. This individual had been listening. It wasn't unusual, I wasn't a stranger here. I had seen this man several times, and I knew what he was. This man would become my changer, my father, and this vampire didn't care that I was beautiful, in fact he said I was rather ordinary looking when I asked, and it wasn't that he was hungry since he had all the whores and virgins he could desire. He liked to hear me read to him. He favored my skill with the pen.

He had offered to steal me away several times to his supposed castle in the night. I declined on all occasions. That day was different though. I had been crying. Once he noticed my tears he drew near to me and lifted my chin to his asking, "What's wrong my little Nightshade? Who was it that caused you this pain?"

My parents had once again hated my writing and school of course over whelmed me ,but it wasn't just those things. My father rejected me for his new wife and family. My brother was just like our father and I couldn't stomach another day of being screamed at for my darker writing, my lack of academic motivation, my habit of isolating myself, and I didn't want to hide my scars anymore. As I told this vampire this he smiled and I couldn't understand why.

When I asked him why he simply leaned against an angelic statue and replied in a snake charmer's tongue, "Why do you hide your stripes, little tiger? And why would a creature of the night dwell among the humans?"

I couldn't answer. He knew this because he continued, "Come with me and become my scribe in the castle of night- fly in the moonlight and ease your pain. A tiger never belonged in a cage anyhow. What do you say? Will you wound me again with your rejection Nightshade? Or will you truly become a Travler?"