My fated mate is a vampire

Chapter1.

I couldn’t live for a day without pouring down my emotions in my secret book. It was my safe place— my closest friend. I wrote down every word spoken to me, places I went to, friends I made and how people spoke to me. It wasn’t just a book to me, it was my therapy.

My parent’s death had taken a toll on me. It wasn’t easy—I was left to make decisions myself, something I was never used to . Emotionally, I was drained, and I refused help from everyone, including my best friend. The air felt dry and my zeal to live was too weak.

I was the first of two children. My parents were my backbone and all I had. Losing them to the cold hands of death wasn’t just a physical hurt— a huge part of me died with them.

The strange circumstances that surrounded their sudden death made it obvious to be murder. This made me spend my summer holiday alone, trusting no one to be kind and considered human— not even my only brother.

I switched from a vibrant and cheerful child to cold and quiet. I wasn’t harmful but was seen as one because of my demure. Happiness was no longer a feeling to me. It was a mere word without a meaning.

Nights were no longer filled with kisses, little gossips, chuckles and random check ups by my mum. I always cried to sleep and mostly staved myself from food.

Mornings had no hope. I always wondered why I didn’t join my parents for the night wedding. If I had, I would have been out of this world— close to my mother. My eyes were always dull with dark circles around them. I wore the same clothes for days and I never cared about it. The world was filled with thousands of people but I felt alone and it was killing me.

I couldn’t wrap my head around why my parents were murdered in cold blood regardless of their innocence and kindness to people and the stories told about the accident never connected.

Life wasn’t easy and had no meaning after their departure, until I was given a Journal where I wrote down my unsaid words and poured down my emotions by my Aunt—Nana.

Nana was the only sister to my late mum, and after the accident she took my brother Ronald and I back to her house. She noticed the huge change in me and my resistance to letting people in—she decided to get me a journal as a gift.

My family looked happy on the outside but I was never close to Ronald. I hated him for the frequent headaches he had caused my mother when she was alive and now she is dead, he went into drugs but I paid no attention to him— to me, he was useless and involving myself with him would stain my personality.

The summer break finally came to an end and it was time to go back to high school.

As the days grew closer, I got more overwhelmed. I knew questions would be asked and people would feel sorry for me. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to start again— to belong without sympathies.

I knew my parents would want me to move on, to be happy. The deepest part of me also knew my mum would want me to take care of my brother and doing that would make her happy. And so I gave myself the task of trying to know about my brother.

He didn’t make things easy as he saw me as a monster without heart. I still tried my best regardless and with time — he came around.

I was so drowned in my misery that I never noticed my brother needed me— he needed my love. He had always wished I noticed him but I didn’t.

“You never cared for me, you made me feel invincible" he had told me earlier in the day. Those words pierced my heart. I was all he had and he had tried his best but I resisted and that pushed him away.

The more I got closer to Ronald, the more I realized I had to move on from my parents death and make way for people into my life.

Week’s finally passed and the resumption day came like a surprise.

I woke up feeling heavy, and tears blurred my sight. I sat on my bed and imagined how my first days at school always seemed like. The butterfly feelings and the joy of meeting my friends. But today I had no one to remind me it was a new day.

I dragged myself out of my bed and went into my bathroom. I stared at my empty eyes through the mirror. I wasn’t seeing the girl I used to be— I looked different.

My knees were weak, forcing me to lean on the sink for support. My head ached from lack of rest. I endured the pain and dressed up for school.

Nana never neglected us— she did her best although she wasn’t a mother. She learnt to be one after the duty was forcefully handed to her by the cruel world

She had surprised us with burnt pancakes and creamy mashed potatoes that morning. It made me happy regardless as she was never the cooking type.

“Today is going to be awesome," she screamed in a high pitch tune,hugging us at once— and it felt warm.

I couldn’t hold back my tears as her gesture reminded me of her again— of my mother. I excused myself to my room, slammed the door behind me and threw myself on the bed. It was a long cry—I really missed my mum’s presence.

I reached out to my journal, stared at the engraved letters “ Mar-le” on the leather cover. It’s a combination of my name and my mum’s.

After a while I decided to write but this time — a letter to myself.

Dear Me,

I know you’re tired. I know the weight on your chest feels too heavy to carry, and sometimes you wish you could lay it down forever. You’ve cried yourself to sleep too many nights, and even when the tears stop, the ache doesn’t. You’ve lost the people who made the world safe, and it feels like nothing can ever be whole again.

But listen to me— you are still here. You’re breathing. Your heart, though broken, is still beating, and that means something. Mum would want you to live, not just survive. She would want you to laugh again, to dream again, to take Ronald’s hand and lead him into the right path.

You’re stronger than you believe. You’re more loved than you realize. And though today feels empty, one day it will be the beginning of something new.

Hold on, Lena. Don’t let go of yourself. You are the piece of them that remains in this world. Live for them. Live for Ronald. Live for you.

With love,

Me

I breathed heavily and covered my journal. Cleaned my tears, smiled and left for the dining room.

“Thanks for the meal Nana,” I said while I picked my phone and dialed my best friend’s number.

“Lena!,” I heard her scream over the phone and I couldn’t hide the joy I had inside me.

Maya has always lifted my mood.