The Beginning – Chapter 1

Ever since I was conceived into this world, there was only one thing that I lived for. Dancing. And I loved dancing. All the neighbors and townspeople would come gather around the town square after a long days work and watch me dance. They couldn't help but feel enchanted by the almost magical movements, and it would set them at ease. They would smile and in the process, it made me smile. Mother said I had a gift, and because of my weak heart, I was glad I had some usefulness in the world. I couldn't do field work for more than a few minutes at a time nor housework. But somehow, dancing made my heart come alive. There was no weakness when I danced. I felt whole. I was happy in my sheltered and protected life with my mother and father.

One evening, I was out later than usual after several repeated performances at the town square. Mother and Father had to leave early so I had to walk home by myself. Our house was situated at the very outskirts of the town for there was much land Father could use for crops. The walk was long, but I wasn't the one to complain. I had learned at a young age that it was best not to voice my discomfort and use my condition as an excuse. By the time I caught sight of my little cottage, the sky had already darkened, and the bright oranges of the sunset were no longer visible. Seeing I was so close to my home, I walk a little faster, my small barefoot feet kicking up dust on the worn out path. Vaguely I remembered that today was my tenth birthday. As soon as I got home, Mother would probably shower me with kisses, while Father stood at a distance, standing erect and looming, but secretly happy. I smiled. There was no need for an extravagant celebration. With my condition, these simple gestures were enough to make me content.

As I drew still nearer to the small lodge though, I felt a chill tingle up my spine. I look over my shoulder but nothing was there. Somehow the scene looked all too quiet. In the distance, a crow squawked. Crows were common in town but somehow the sound set my heart at unease. My breath coming out in short huffs from the strain, I quickened my pace, hoping what I felt was but a figment of my untamed imagination.

Reaching the door, I held my hand out, pushing the door slowly open, producing a creaking sound. "Mother, Father, I'm home," I called out. The light produced by the moon's gleam illuminated the small cottage from the opening of the door. There were two bodies lying on the floor, both of which I recognized. The first one was my father, his burly figure nearly dwarfing the body right next to him, my mother. They were both still, so horrifyingly still. Blood pooled around their bodies. I bent down and touched my mother's cold face, streaking my hands in her blood, tracing the subtle contours of her wasted face. I lifted my head and stared into cold blooded red eyes. I screamed as the world turned black.

.

"Rima, your dancing is so wonderful, it makes me proud to have such a talented little girl." I felt my mother's seemingly large but fairy-like fingers cup my face. "You were born for a reason Rima, and that reason is dancing. It brings joy to people's faces, a sweet haven in which to indulge. You are a haven Rima, a beautiful angel sent from above to bring out people's happiness. Never forget that."

"Mother. Mother. No don't leave me. Mother! MOTHER!" I woke up with a start. I looked frantically around the room, hoping what had happened last night was only a bad dream and any moment now Mother would come in and comfort me. But nobody came. I sat alone on my thin mattress, rocking myself back and forth, waiting. Light streaked through the dirt-tinted windows, indicating that it was still early in the morning. Songbirds chirped outside, radiating their beauty through song. A long time ago, I would have gladly listened to their tune. Now it seemed obsolete. The world no longer shown in brilliant illumination, there was only sorrow, pain. Vaguely I remembered the face I saw, that cruel face. I shuddered and dismissed the thought at once. It was nothing but my imagination. I stared down at my hands, tears forming as I remembered touching my Mother's face, feeling how cold it was, how lifeless. Where would I go now? I had no relatives; this secluded town was the only place I knew of. When I could formulate no answer, I cried, pitifully wrapping my blanket around my huddled form.

After a few minutes I came to realize that was a person standing next to me, but the tears did not stop flowing. The person stood for a few moments before leaving the room, only to come back with a class of milk and a roll of bread. He bent down and offered me the bread, but after seeing my devastation, tore off a piece and hand fed me. I looked up and met dark green eyes, like jade. He smiled and offered me a hand. I could only stare, not wanting to be hurt again. But his eyes, so warm, his intentions so sympathetic. After a few hesitant moments, I delicately curled my small fingers around his palm and let him help me stand up. With his other hand, the man offered me the glass of milk, and I tentatively took it, taking a few meager sips off the top. The young man looked no older than 17 and had sandy brown hair with a lean build. He smiled kindly at me and patted my head as I finished my inadequate breakfast.

When I was done, the young man outstretched his hand and I handed him the still half full glass. He was about to turn to leave but I caught hold of his shirt, firmly not letting this kind man out of my sight. He smiled again and set the glass on the floor, sitting down with me on the mattress, soothing my hair like a baby. After a few peaceful moments, my curiosity spurred. Who was this man? Why was he here? Did I know him? Many more questions swam around in my head and finally I couldn't hold on to them any longer. I tugged on the man's shirt.

He looked down and smiled at me, his green eyes shimmering. "Yes, Rima?" So he knew my name too. I opened my mouth several times, but couldn't find a correct way to make the sentence I needed. I raised my head and stared into his green eyes, hoping he knew what I wanted to know.

The young man sighed. "I thought you'd eventually want to know Rima. I'm sure you realize your parents are dead." He soothed my hair some more when he felt me flinch at the word. Suddenly his eyes turned cold and stern, the exact opposite of what I saw in him before. "They were killed by a vampire."

I looked at his eyes, hoping it was a joke. It wasn't, I knew what I had seen that horrible night. A vampire.