True Memories

There are so many things that can be meant by words, few of which the human mind can barely understand. But others are different. They hold hurt, pain, depression and hate as well as love, lust, lies, try, loss. What we remember may not be what is written, but what our minds wish to perceive as ‘True Memories'. It was all fun and games, and with her, I was free.



Nothing changed when she was around: I was myself and nothing could change the way I felt about her. Her turquoise hair swinging madly as she ran away from me, her golden eyes darting behind her as her tongue poked out of her luscious red lips. Perfection...that is what she was...Nothing but perfection.  But, perfection is not true, so my memories aren't either.



Everything that day was supposed to go perfect: A walk around the neighborhood, a picnic lunch, a riverside chat and then, a candle lit dinner on the beach. Nothing is perfect. She only saw it as games, simply toying with my emotions as I let myself fall into her. What a whore she turned out to be.



But, most females do lie and I wonder now why I wanted to make her my mate. Since she has left me waiting in eternity for something I will never have the chance to get, I have tried to move on. My own sister has tried to help, but the young one doesn't understand love. I'm sorry, but you aren't helping, I said to her as she looked up at me with powder blue eyes boring hope and sorrow into my own.



My mind still snapped back to my would-be mate and a demon like me has to wonder: Why did I do this to myself? Why did I care so much? Who the hell was I trying to fool? Many she-demons have gladly admitted to wanting to bear my children, but they are lies too.



Memories. What are memories? Are they something good, perhaps bad? It makes no sense to me. She would admit to falling madly, deeply in love with me, then go right around and rip my heart out, stomping on it like a frightened elephant. Why did she turn out to be so evil...so much...like me...

Like me...why is she like me and what did I do to make her this way? She was innocence when we met; I could smell the virgin on her. But now...nothing more than a lingering scent of blood, lust, and another demon-Or human's- scent. Why, why did she turn out to be a back-stabbing, conniving whore of a she-demon?! Why did I fall for her and what has she done to me?

What has she done? I have not found my mate; I'm still the innocent one. No sex, no reproduction, no nothing that qualifies as me losing my innocence. She hates me for that, I believe. ‘You're too innocent and not wild! Lose it all!' she'd yell as she walked away, laughing as liquor, and arousal filled the air around her. Men, demons and even half demons would swarm around her as she walked, shaking everything she had and flirting wildly. Maybe, I should've given up, or maybe, I should've killed the conniving woman.



But, killing a female is as much a sin as killing any human. Laws by which we live cannot and will not be changed for any demon, man or half demon so long as the world is ruled by ‘good'. Demons talking of making a change for themselves do nothing except idly threaten others into following them...What a waste of time. The problem does not lie with the demon, but with the lack to make a change and show what you have to offer.

What you have to offer...memories, perhaps? No, no memories. Memories are not true, nor right ever. We have learned this. What your mind perceives may be different to another's mind and different to yet another's. Damn. Memories...they are both untrue and imperfect, just another flaw that can be seen in this hell-hole we live in.

Hell. Where we'll all end up. ‘We have been together for ten years and were faithful for one week' they say as they hire a hooker and go to work. What has happened to love and truth, faithfulness and savior? What has happened to the world that has made everything change; has made everything twist and turn for the worst? Why am I breaking?

I thought I would break into her thoughts with what was written on my heart. And I tried, perhaps hurting her more than it would have pained her to just kill her. But, I will change for the better. It's all because I'm so sick and infected with where they live; let me live without this empty bliss and selfishness! Hear it? I'm screaming it! You tremble at this sound........

I feel worthless in so many ways and now, I can't even try to keep a woman faithful. There's no one left. No one left to save me from this path in life I have taken because I've been betrayed and my love was never returned as it should have been. I was only a toy to get power and that wench got her way again. That woman took everything away from me and then intensified the pain by playing around with a human in MY bed. I sometimes wonder why I still walked those halls...

Walking these halls...what was I doing? Looking for a way out......looking for a god damned way out of this life, without me actually leaving forever. All those halls hold is painful memories of us, the way she used to tease me then sneak across the floor. Sometimes, I still force myself to believe that she took me for granted.



Taken for granted...No, I was wrong. She never took me for granted, only that I was there for her at times when others gracefully left her alone. It made me upset; mad, even, to see that people would up and leave a beautiful young demon on her own. No, I took her for granted...and now she's gone.



She's gone. Gone, just like my true memories. All I can do is sit and think of what those true memories might have held; what they might have concealed from me for three years. I can't think of why I can't remember. It just seems like, perhaps, those memories held horrid scars, scars that she might've tried to heal.

Healing is a process, one which she excelled at. I started to believe that there was, in fact, hope for me. After all, she tried and things began to get better......so, maybe there was hope for me to begin with. But, not now. Not ever. There is no more hope for me, and there probably won't ever be again. I wonder what would have happened if things hadn't gone that way, if things had gone smoothly, better. I wonder what would have happened if I had hope to begin with.



But that's just it, isn't it? I didn't have hope; hope is wasted on the hopeless. It was wasted on me, and her. And now I can't help but to realize the two mistakes of my life: the first one being her and the second, ultimately the stupidest thing I have ever done. Well, maybe the second stupidest.



As I came home from where ever I was on that night, I found her scent in every step that I took and the scent of blood. Her blood. That worried me. While she may have hurt me, stabbed me in the back, hated me, nothing could change the way I loved to watch her, to hold her in my arms when she was worried, angry, or upset. Nothing could change the way I loved her. Well, almost nothing. You see, I was at a breaking point, one where any demon who wanted a fight would most surely end up a dead man. I no longer cared for how many I hurt in order to gain what I wanted. And that, my dear friends, is wrong and unfair. Why should one treat only one person with the utmost respect then look down upon everyone else? Hey, that's horrible, ain't it? But, I did and I most certainly regret it now.



Regret for what I did has driven me to the brink and I blame regret for my being in this place of condemned, waiting their turn to die. But, I'm so much younger than them, how could I have possibly ended up here, chore-boy to another because he would kill me if I wasn't. I'm getting fed up with this life, I'm close to breaking and I can't hold it back. I won't hold it back. I haven't felt her touch or heard her words in seven months and while I've been here, I've pondered back on my ancestor's words.
"True memories are found when the lights go out and one dreams to drift away into a life of nothingness, where nothing lives and everything survives." But, is there such a place? Maybe. Or, maybe we're lying to ourselves when we say that we do indeed remember something as it happened. No, there will never be such a place as that.



That place. I was back in my home, which was larger than the average demon's humble abode, but it was home. Her blood was so much stronger than when I had first smelt it walking along the winding road that would lead me to an inevitable doom, one where no matter how hard I tried, I could not escape death's cold, bony hands...his sad, drawing breath...my life sat like a piece of paper in his hands. His scythe was his match, and it came ever closer to that piece of paper, the flames growing brighter and stronger with each passing moment. And then it hit me. Something wasn't just wrong, but inhumane and disrespectful. I shuddered violently at the thought as my purple eyes fell on the door to my house. I was scared at what I would find, but I opened it anyways. I walked in the hall, my steps almost fearful and shattered.

Shattered. That was what I was becoming. It wasn't fair, really it wasn't, but I continued to walk down the dark, scarred hallways of my home. My heart pounded in my ears as I felt the cool sensation of my fangs start to grow in and my claws start to form, anxious for use.  As I looked down, I noticed that memories started to form in front of me. Each of these memories held something painful, regretful, hateful. By the time I had reached the door to my bedroom, tears had stung my pale face, smirking and leaving their presence. It made me all the more mad that I actually had the audacity to cry because I felt unfaithful to the only one I would ever love; mad because I cried for her loss when I would leave her. I...I didn't understand at the time.



At the time, my hand shakily reacted to my thoughts and reached for the door, my eyes still glazed from the tears that had fallen prior to my action. I turned white as my hand grasped the icy cold of the doorknob. With every passing second, my heart skipped a beat...two beats...three beats. My breath caught in my throat as the door ever so slowly opened. Open! Now! I can't wait anymore, I thought anxiously as time seemed to slow. My eyes changed from the beauty of purple to a shattering black and red. Her words stung deep, but my claws stung deeper. She gasped and fell limp in my arms as she sighed with the last bit of angst. I dropped her and walked away, my black coat billowing out behind me, my shirt and pants stained with her blood. It was all over the moment she betrayed me.



She betrayed me. I had forced myself for months to believe that I was the one who betrayed the other, but I was wrong. Just as I was wrong about her. Everything was numb and dull for the next few days, nothing would faze me and nothing could change the way that I had killed the love of my life. It's like that song. "You could cut my throat and with my last dying breath, I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt." Except, I would be the one apologizing to her, but now that I think deeply, I had no reason to want to apologize. Nothing more than senseless mind distortion and her brainwashing me to believe everything was my fault. And it wasn't.



It wasn't all my fault, even when I thought it was, it wasn't. She had me...for want of a better word, trained. I didn't understand it at the time and I will admit now, I was naïve. I just did not understand why she would do everything she did, then turn around and be a complete......well, demon about nothing and everything. It baffled me to the center of my dark soul and even now, it's hazy as to why and what I didn't understand. Still, I try to figure it out, even if I am condemned.



Since the murder, I have awaited my sentence as a demon and will hold me head up high when everything is said and done. The most that can happen is death and even then, I'm prepared. As I sit here and watch the blue sky from this window, I realize my mistake and my solution. That demon, Lorelei, was my mistake. Her death was my solution. Everything has a meaning in this life, right? Even true memories, correct? I'm not sure anymore. I'm not sure of anything anymore because I'm confused and hurt inside. I even question where I'm at at night.



In this god forsaken place, you can hear the tormented screams of the others at night. Each one, giving and reliving a painful and grotesque memory. Each night, I can hear myself thrashing about as I try to wake myself up. It's no use, but still, I'm not screaming. Not yet at least. Everyone screams here. It's as if these walls that surround you force you to remember and when it happens, no one will forget the way another cries out for help as the drown in the nostalgia of their own screaming. No, I'm not screaming yet.



But I know that in the end, I will end up screaming myself into insanity and sleep like the rest of them do. And when that happens, I'll know it has finally come to pass. Everything will make sense, but it will be too much to try and find my way out of. It will engulf me like fire and condemn me to darkness for all of eternity. When it happens, I'll know I've found them...my true memories...