My grandmother always reminded me to keep to myself, to stay silent and only speak when need be
That my fate was loneliness, due to what I am and due to the kind of destruction I can inflict.
Stay silent.
Quiet.
It got too silent, so I turned to alcohol. In turned up the noises, the voices in my head made it easier to ignore everything and everyone else.
Trust no one.
Love no one.
I wasn't sure how long I stood in the garden of the manor, staring down at the barrels of freshly soaked grapes. My grandmother's recipe.
Everything about me was hers, including the voices in my head. My beast constantly fought for control but my grandmother scared even him away.
But when I'm with her, it all goes silent again.
Not sure if I like it.
I do not want to be in that silence ever a
