This will be deleted soon - The Wrong Hope *Complete and Free*

36. Another Contemplation

Sally-Anne

Year: 1983 1st of August, Monday, Almost Midnight, Summer.

I was alone and I was afraid.

Everything was all over the place and it was even more confusing than before. I could hardly move. It was like I was pinned to the bed and what I could move was stiff and uncomfortable. I didn't want to think about anything but the thoughts just wouldn't stop. I was supposed to be dead. Guy promised but instead he had done something to me. Only a few moments ago he had almost done something else. I shuddered at the thought. I could almost still feel his hands. I felt disgusting, more disgusting than before. I wanted to wash but I couldn't move.

Time dragged. There was nothing to do but think. Think about that insane version of my memory where instead of murdering my parents I was bound and chained. I had a feeling it had something to do with whatever he had done to me. 'Guy says' - I didn't understand the significance but it had been in my nightmare and he said it when he... when he was touching me. I tried to recall the different things he had said.

In the nightmare it was that I couldn't hurt him and I couldn't leave this room. Did that mean the room I was in? It would explain why I couldn't move or was that whatever he injected me with? How long ago was that? It seemed like forever. Either way I couldn't test those things to find out if it was real. I couldn't move to leave and even if Guy was here I couldn't try anything because… I couldn't move.

As awful as the nightmare had been, being able to cry like that had made me feel better. I'd needed that time to grieve even if it hadn't been real or perhaps it was real in a strange sort of way. With what I was contemplating it would actually kind of be real, wouldn't it? I took a deep breath and thought about when I woke up. That had been the worst. His hands on me. His hot breath on my face as he called me the way my Pa did. The thirst that had burned, but now it was gone. It was so nice not to be thirsty. I felt like myself. The horrible voice in my head was nowhere to be found.

Looking back I could see Guy's lips moving above me but no matter how hard I concentrated I couldn't recall what he had said. I was guessing that he ordered me not to be thirsty but I couldn't prove it. The other two 'Guy says' moments were useless too. What on earth did he mean 'don't project your emotion'? He wasn't here for me to try lying either.

I wanted to scream.

Why did I even care if he had done some crazy magic thing to me and could boss me around now. I was evil, I was disgusting, I was a monster. I wasn't even a person.

The impact was gone.

No matter how many times I repeated it to myself it just wouldn't quite stick. I had murdered my parents and I had left my poor baby brother to die but was it really my fault? If I could believe anything Guy had said then it was clear my Pa knew all about this world and he had left me exposed, vulnerable. I hadn't seen the Vault but I had seen the magic door, that had to count as some sort of evidence, didn't it? What about on the night I killed him? I cringed thinking about it. He knew. He knew what I was the second he saw me. He tried to leave. Then he tried to diffuse the situation. Oh and where had he come from? I'd wondered so many times but now I was pretty sure it was the Vault.

So Guy was right, it wasn't all on me. I hadn't even done anything bad since then. Ye, I know I was locked away for 3 decades but I chose to do that to protect people. Guy was people. Other than when he attacked me I hadn't hurt him. Jo was people, I hadn't hurt her either. I wasn't as bad as I thought I was. I wasn't as bad as Guy was making me out to be!

Who was he to order me to be good? Wait he hadn't ordered that, he told me that, there was no 'Guy says'. That was how it worked, wasn't it? Anyway it didn't matter if he ordered me or told me. He had been bad. He hurt me, he starved me, he took from me, he sure as heck lied to me AND he was a predator. A s****l one. I shuddered.

If anyone needed to behave it was him. He was human, he just had the basic things to contend with. I was a gosh darn Vampire for heaven's sake and I was trying my best!

Groaning I tried to move again, while it wasn’t impossible, it was very difficult. Every muscle, every joint felt like it was full of broken glass and as heavy as lead. The effort to move was gargantuan but I just couldn't stay on the bed staring at that patch of ugly water stained ceiling any longer. After some very awkward and painful movements I managed to slide off the bed and onto the floor. I regretted it instantly. The floor was filthy and I was now stuck on it. I’d used all my energy.

I was kind of sitting with my knees against my chest, one arm dangling at my side, the other over the top of my knees and my chin against my chest. From this position I could see that my skin had taken a grey tinge and there was a tattoo on the inside of my forearm. Just a simple tattoo of a length of rope tied in a promise knott. It was reasonably big as well, about the size of my palm. Who the hell tattoos an unconscious person? What a strange thing it was as well. Hum, maybe it was part of the spell or curse or whatever. My imposed promise to obey.

This was ridiculous. Did I really think that was true? I hadn't thought vampires were possible either, I told myself, but here I am. My head was starting to hurt and everything was blurry to look at. Another pain was also starting to make itself known, it was like a little itch in my bones but it didn’t grow. No, there was no build, not like the first time when I had slowly seized while locked in my cell. It exploded like kettle corn. The itch ripped open in an instant and I was all thirst and barely any Sally-Anne.

I bit the arm directly in front of me. There was a small comfort in the feeling of my teeth pressed up to the gums in flesh. So began another eternity, burning, trapped. How many times would I have to live through forever till I could find peace?

The door slammed and a voice called out. I couldn't hear their voice. I could feel their heat, hear their heart.

It made me shiver.

The voice again, panicked. Then calm again with flames pressing against my skin. A blurry face. Flames on my arm. Sharp pain in my cheek. Blood on my tongue.

Relief.

As the face in front became more defined, so did my thoughts. Relief turned to anger at the sight of Guy's blue-grey eyes twinkling with smarmy delight and in a whirl of rage I launched myself at him.