DEAR DIARY,
Sometimes I wish I was a better writer so that I could completely express what I feel. How to capture the horror and the mystery and the sadness of being dead, yet not? How to capture all my feelings and thoughts about having no heartbeat, but walking among the living?
Yes, it’s a heavy secret to keep. And yes, I have to be aware of everything I say, every move I make. It’s a secret I can’t reveal in any way, or my so-called life with these people will be over.
And then where will I go?
I’m not a ghost. I’m not a zombie. I know what I am. Believe me, I know what I am. I don’t like it, but I can’t change it. As the expression goes, it is what it is.
So I have no choice. I work harder and harder at hiding my real self and keeping my secret.
And speaking of secrets, Diary, there is one I don’t like to think about, but there’s no escaping it. One secret that consumes me, that fills me with all kinds of longing.
No, I don’t mean that kind of longing. Although, I crave affection like any living human. I crave the warmth of another person, the touch of their skin on my skin. I’m not dead to desire.
But the secret I try to push to the back of my mind is a different kind of longing. It’s the hunger I feel when I’m with my new friends. I am hungry all the time I am with them. Hungry as if I were alive.
It’s an overwhelming feeling, Diary. And yes, it even makes me dizzy, the intense craving, the growl of my stomach, that driving urge to feed and feed and feed until I am filled with the living blood. Until I am filled with it and the blood is me.
The nectar is so rich and filling. I crave the taste of it, the heaviness of it on my tongue and down my throat. The feel of the red smears of it staining my cheeks and chin.
I could drown in it.
But I’ve been good, Diary. I’ve been careful. I’ve held myself back, held back my urges, my HUNGER.
These are my new friends. I can’t let them know. I can’t leave a single hint. But still . . .
I must feed.
And I feel that the time is near. I’m not going to hold back much longer. My craving is too strong.
I’m going to satisfy my hunger before I return to you.
