Its coming closer. My HSC, I'm talking about. Yes, I'm doing my HSC, even as a vampire; I want to work a career until 30. After all, I'll only ever get one shot at it, as fleeting as it may be. I'm no fool, I know my emotional state during these final exams isn't going to be of any assistance. This would be so much easier if Rosalie never left.
No need to pronounce me dead due to an absence of posts between now and early November. With everything going on, I'll need focus sharper than razor wire. I might altogether abandon this blog until then, leave it like Rosalie left me.
I'll miss you guys until then, though I may drop in to say hello. Bob, John, Sarah, and whoever else deserves a mention; thanks. Its been so much easier having total strangers listening to me. Theres nothing quite like it.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Breakdown
Sarabande. A song by Bach, which I learned on guitar to play for my HSC. I dedicate it too my mother, for personal reasons, and had to perform it today in front of a live audience for practice. I stepped into the room to retrieve my guitar to practice, only to discover a performer was missing, and I was the only one available to perform. Rushed in front of everyone unprepared, I quietly awaited for my introduction to be completed.
That was when my feelings began to hit me. Memories - the few i have of my mother, began swirling to the surface. My teacher, with her back turned didn't notice the first tear run down my face, and drop onto my guitar. The soft tap it made travelled through the microphone, and was slightly amplified. The front row members of the audience noticed, however, and whispers generated. I struck the first chord to alert the teacher i was ready, and my introduction was completed.
As i began to play through the piece, tears began chasing the first, and softly landed on the body of the guitar. My teacher, who had now noticed could do nothing. I played the song to the dead silent audience, accompanied by the soft tapping of teardrops on a hollow body. Fortunately, I had no friends in the audience who would later attempt to comfort me. Not even Lisa showed up, which is a positive; I hate being seen upset. I was oblivious to the clapping of the audience as the piece concluded, and before my teacher could ask what was wrong, I stood up and left.
Not looking back, I packed my guitar in its case. I heard my teacher unevenly announce my leave, and introduce the next performer.
Before she could leave the room to see me, I was gone.
That was when my feelings began to hit me. Memories - the few i have of my mother, began swirling to the surface. My teacher, with her back turned didn't notice the first tear run down my face, and drop onto my guitar. The soft tap it made travelled through the microphone, and was slightly amplified. The front row members of the audience noticed, however, and whispers generated. I struck the first chord to alert the teacher i was ready, and my introduction was completed.
As i began to play through the piece, tears began chasing the first, and softly landed on the body of the guitar. My teacher, who had now noticed could do nothing. I played the song to the dead silent audience, accompanied by the soft tapping of teardrops on a hollow body. Fortunately, I had no friends in the audience who would later attempt to comfort me. Not even Lisa showed up, which is a positive; I hate being seen upset. I was oblivious to the clapping of the audience as the piece concluded, and before my teacher could ask what was wrong, I stood up and left.
Not looking back, I packed my guitar in its case. I heard my teacher unevenly announce my leave, and introduce the next performer.
Before she could leave the room to see me, I was gone.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Cruel Hunt
Its begun. Peter and Arthur have realised the full concern with Rosalie missing. Vampires must always travel in groups. If one of us dies, the body must be burnt, lest our prescence be revealed in an autopsy. Arthur is notorius for have a flame at the ready the instant a vampire passes away. The search for Rosie is no longer a search to get her back, it has become a hunt. Rosalie must be found, in case she dies, and reveals the existence of vampires. I can't stand the thought that the primary concern is not for her well-being. Its as if they don't even care about her.
I also can't stand the thought of Rosie dying. Arthur has been checking out all the butchers he can, asking for a girl buying blood. If she gets caught, rather than returns, Arthur and Peter will permanantly keep a close eye on her. The only way out of this for her is if she finds another group of vampires, considering she is unlikely to return.
What if shes already dead? Or has been caught buying and drinking blood? I can't stand that possibility...
I also can't stand the thought of Rosie dying. Arthur has been checking out all the butchers he can, asking for a girl buying blood. If she gets caught, rather than returns, Arthur and Peter will permanantly keep a close eye on her. The only way out of this for her is if she finds another group of vampires, considering she is unlikely to return.
What if shes already dead? Or has been caught buying and drinking blood? I can't stand that possibility...
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