[Blood Diary Entry]
This night wasn't a peaceful one, not by a long shot.
Mother was so nervous she couldn't sleep, no matter how much she tried. She was shivering fiercely nonstop.
I tried to calm her down, but no matter what I did, she wouldn't settle down. So, when Rebekah got up the stairs to check on us, I asked her to compel my mother into unconsciousness.
Rebekah, of course, was apprehensive about it. She was worried my mom would take that as a betrayal and wouldn't trust her any longer.
After a bit of a back-and-forth over this, she relented and did as I asked.
I watched as Rebekah sat on the edge of the bed; as she spoke with my mother in a calm tone—almost as if singing a lullaby.
She looked into my mother's eyes, their pupils contracted into small dots, and the next thing I knew, Mother was snoring peacefully.
I thanked her, and she smiled and drew me closer to her.
Surely enough, that calm and gentle pull that beckoned us to be close to one another won over the original plan, which was for her to patrol the ground floor and me to stay near my mother.
We decided to stay in the bedroom that led to the closet my mother now slept in.
Rebekah grabbed a comfortable armchair, sat on it, and pulled me into her lap. She wove her arms around my chest like a protective net and enveloped me in a warm hug.
Though we were still on full alert, mindful of the faintest of sounds or scents, we allowed ourselves a monotonous but precious conversation.
"Why didn't you compel your mother, and instead ask me to do it?" She asked curiously, as one of her hands gently combed my long hair.
Rebekah seemed fascinated by my hair ever since I absorbed Caine, and it became even darker and longer.
I didn't put much thought into my answer. "I'm not confident of using my powers and not accidentally messing her mind up."
Rebekah nodded thoughtfully. "Some vampires have that same problem. Though usually they don't care much about the consequences…"
"And Miss Perfect over here never had any problems with it, I assume." I chuckled playfully.
Catching on to my teasing mood, she giggled. "Of course not, it was natural for me, I am that talented after all. You're not calling me Miss Perfect for nothing."
I laughed and leaned back into her. A sense of unrelenting comfort washed over me. Being close to her was a dangerously addictive sensation, to say the least.
And judging by her expression, it was the same for her.
Thus, we spent the night peacefully.
Rebekah's steady heartbeat, Mother's soft snoring, they all brought me peace of mind and washed away any troublesome thoughts that plagued me.
Occasionally, Rebekah and I heard screams in the distance, followed by the cackle of the ghouls.
People who were falling prey to the appetite of these wretched creatures.
I felt bad about them. But I didn't feel the heroic urge to run into the night, fighting and driving back the creatures, to save and protect the innocent.
I am not a hero.
And I do not wish to be one.
Because heroes are inspiring beacons of hope who shine fiercely but burn away just as fiercely. They are people who would sacrifice everything—themselves, and even the ones they love—for the sake of the greater good.
I am not like that, and I will never be like that.
Call me selfish, but if it meant keeping my mother or Rebekah safe from harm, I would burn the world down without a second thought. Maybe I would do so with tears streaming down my face, maybe I would be indifferent to it—which would be a sin greater than the act itself—or maybe I would do it with a smile.
It doesn't matter, because I would do it again and again in a heartbeat.
But I also won't take innocent lives just for the sake of it; this is my bottom line. A line I refuse to cross.
Should someone provoke me, they will die.
Should someone tarnish the name and honor of my loved ones, they will die.
Should someone stand in my way and refuse to budge, they will also die
The same goes for anyone who dares threaten mine or my loved one's well-being and peace.
But otherwise, I don't wish to stain my hands with the blood of the innocent.
This is the morality I've established for myself. Something that will help me keep my humanity but won't turn me into a being chained down by the weight of other people's ethics.
I will rid this town of the filth that plagues it, and that will have to suffice.
I filtered down the sounds in the distance, and instead, I paid more attention to our close surroundings. Alert to anything that dared approach.
Once or twice, a stray ghoul would come near, but after sensing mine and Rebekah's scent, they would quickly run away in fear, whimpering like wounded dogs.
The sounds of carnage and despair ceased when the first rays of sunlight came crashing down.
The ghouls retreated to the distant forest that surrounded the town, into whatever hellhole they sprouted out of.
One or two weren't so quick in their retreat and were forced to hide in abandoned buildings inside the city.
I guess that ghoul we saw yesterday was one of these unlucky ones, since he appeared way before the rest came out of the nest.
I sighed and reluctantly got out of Rebekah's embrace, walking towards my sleeping mother.
I gently woke her up.
She seemed well rested; her skin glowed with a healthy hue.
The three of us had a quick breakfast before we led Mother to Nico's chocolaterie.
I made the odd druid promise to keep my mother safe, and I also threatened him a teensy tinesy little bit that if something happened to her, he wouldn't like the outcome.
He shrugged me off, waving me away and calling me a rude kid, but seemed to get the message anyway.
I rolled my shoulders and looked at Rebekah with an excited smile on my face.