Not only that, but I am actually a huge loser who has not had a real life in approximately averylongtime.
I had a revelation after I had confided my virtual shoulder. I have not had a life since the precise point that I left school. At first I will admit, I tried very hard to get one, and then less and less up until the point where i was sitting in my PJ bottoms and a hoodie, wrapped in my duvet, with no idea of how I had not been dressed or out of the house in a week.
That is what living in TV shows does to you.
I am very frightened of beginning again, but I KNOW I have to do it now, before I am old and drooly in my armchair immersed in the same televisual delights I use to numb myself now. Feeling something, even if it is abject terror is better that not feeling at all.
It has to be. Or I'm so fucked.
- Location:My house.
- Mood:
determined - Music:Even when there is nothing else, Bden still sings.
Thats all.
- Location:ALex and Joe house
- Mood:golden retreiver
- Music:Ramones, blitkrieg bop.
Not that anyone reads it, but I like posting it. So there.
Shit.
- Location:(S)exeter, UK
- Mood:
enraged - Music:Toxicity ~ SOAD
CALIRE'S DIARY. DO NOT READ UNDER PAIN OF VIOLENT DEATH
What I should probably tell you right now, straight up, is that I'm a vampire. Or will be, on my sixteenth birthday. Another thing that may change your opinion of this fact is that
I DON'T WANT TO BE.
Just to get that out there to mull over.
I am sitting on my bed, which has heavy black drapes that I never pull across, because they would probably disintegrate as soon as I attempted to. I live in a castle, but not the posh converted type, but the howling damp and drafty type. Most of the stuff in it probably dates back to the 17th century, when my parents first moved in. I'm the only person in the family with a bed. They all sleep in coffins. They includes my dad, who is really tall and scary looking, but like a kitten once you have him wrapped around your finger. Like I have. My Mum is gorgeous. But in a weird pale toothy goth kind of way, with long red hair that hasn't seen sunlight in 500 years. The final member of they, which I mention only because he is my family, no matter how much we hate one another, is my brother, Sebastian. Always Sebastian, never Seb. Trust me. You do not want to get on the wrong side of him.
So I am the only person with a bed. It comes decked out with all the gothic extras, but its still, fortunately, a bed. My whole room is pretty depressing. The cobwebs come with the natural ambiance of the castle, and no matter how often you get rid of them, they come always come back.
Please do excuse me for a moment. My stupid brother has stormed in like a moody teenager with PMS. Does he exist to wreak havoc on my life?
He wanted to know where the T.V remote is. The Telly is a recent concession of my parents, who were very strict about everything human. Naturally, Seb is addicted to all the lamest programmes. I may be 15 and still watch SpongeBob SquarePants, but he has the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone with none of the sugary goodness. He likes all the hospital dramas, because they all have injured bleeding people in them. Yuck. I get dizzy watching stuff like that. I like cartoons, and scifi, and fantasy, anything with strong butt kicking feminists are great. Buffy, Dark Angel, Charmed, Alias.
So that's who I am right now.
My parents would kill me! I haven't told you my name. It's really long, and stupid, but thats vampires for you. I am Calire Elisaveta Movroven Genievae Devere Hengist. Or you know, Calli, for short.
I am all written out, and I have school in the morning.
22nd October 2007. My bedroom, Castle Filveniero, the top step of the west wing staircase,
Italy. Around Fiveish in the evening.
I'm thinking I should probably start with a little history.
I was born in this very castle 15 years, 9 months and 12 days ago. My parents are the vampire world equivalent of ambassadors, which means we travel a lot. It also means visits to a whole lot of Vampyr Clans, some of who are really scary and imposing. The good thing about living with parents who drag you around the globe a lot is that you learn loads of languages. I am proficient in 14, and fluent in 12. Italian is obviously my native tongue, but I can speak English, French, German, Check, Russian, Mandarin and Japanese, to name but a few.
I'm trying to get the obvious stuff out of the way.
Bear with me.
What else? I go tho school. This may seem normal to any human, but this is another recent concession of my parents. Vampires are not supposed to have breather friends. Breathers are for biting, not befriending. My best friend is named Alexis. Boy, not girl. I have only known him about three months, but he is the only breather to have learned my secret. I trust him absolutely.
Sebastian is the most major idiot to walk the planet. We leave for America tomorrow, and he is tearing around looking for a 'special' pair of sunglasses. He is undead. He can't even walk in the sunlight.
"STUPID TOSSER" is what I have just yelled at him own the staircase.
School was really fun, I don't think the novelty will ever wear off. Well, it was fun, apart from Lucia De Toleo teasing me because I'm so pale. Compared to all the tanned breathers of Italy, I am an albino, having slept like my family, rising at night and sleeping at dawn since three months ago.
This however, I fully intend to remedy, as we're going to Florida tomorrow! I'm secretly excited, not because of the Clans we're going to meet, but because I can finally get a tan on the beach, and maybe when we move on to California, learn to surf.! But don't ever tell my family that. They would have kittens.
24th October, Florida! Hotel Suite. Jet-lagged at around 3pm. which is some godforsaken hour in the morning in real time.
Have been trying and failing to argue case with parents for being allowed out during day. I do it at home, let me enjoy the sunlight while I still can, etc. They wont budge. I am too tired to argue.
- Location:(S)exeter, U.K.
- Mood:
sick - Music:Camisado, PATD.
"This is my message to the billions who hear it, the joyous occasion each day which forces you, my loyal populace to listen, with the fixed attitude that they simply have got to hear what their dear Queen has decreeded today.
This oh simple peasant folk, is my timeless message.
I look upon you with such wisdom is my gaze that to feel the full power of it and look me in the eye is to become paralysed by awe and tranquility. Rather like a basilisk, although the one I know is a lot flashier than that. Pardon me. ::Cough:: To continue...
The message of the day.
We are not alone.
It is true my cortiers, that there are gaps in the worlds, such as in that great literary classic The Subtle Knife. The fact that I hit one yesterday while walking my dog is a troubling matter. Of course as Queen I am the only one powerful enough to come across such an amazing spectacle, but even so, in a time of uncertainty and fear, these gaps between the worlds add new concern to the affairs of state.
So forth it shall be decreeded that if you come across a hole is space and time, you cover it immediately and inform the correct authorities. There is an emergency 0800 number to ring if such an unnatural event should arise.
My loyal personalities are scouring the globe at this very point, and Frank (newly appointed head of the time dimension unit) is working hard to ensure no lowly citizen should fall into another dimension, unable to return. Be wary, loyal subjects, and stay away from swirling green portals, please."
***
I am wet. I am cold. I am very probably missing Lost. There is seaweed in my hair. This is not good. I sort of squelch onto my front and survey my surroundings through bedraggled clumps of hair. I am lying on a beach. You may have gathered that, with the seaweed and the wetness. This is very not good. There is the rising feeling of panic in my stomach, along with the realisation, I don't live near a beach. The rising feeling of panic gets bigger.
"Yuck." I say loudly.
"You are wearing the funniest clothes!" says a childlike voice to my right.
I haul myself to my feet and glare at the girl. "Fneh." I mutter unintelligibly.
The sea is a different colour. A sort of pinky rose. This is new. This is disturbing. I turn to ask the girl where I am, but she's gone, bouncing off along the shoreline. It now occurs to me that it is possible that I was kidnapped and sold as a white slave to some small backwater country, to be a drugs mule or a sweatshop worker for ever. What exactly was I doing before I ended up here? I draw a complete blank. It's like there is a wall in the way of my memories of today.
I need to get off the beach. This becomes a bigger priority when I see two men in black carrying long bits of wood like staffs running toward me. Oh dear.
- Location:exeter
- Mood:
cold - Music:Dishwasher churning
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