I finally met my father purely by chance and accident, and didn't even know it at the time.
I left my so-called home, and once i ran out of money for bus tickets, began hitchhiking anywhere that i could make it to. Eventually a black van stopped for me, and it was then that i met my father, and the two who were to become my companions for the next few years.
Zillah, Molochai, and Twig were the occupants of that van, and it was with them that i traveled to North Carolina, and that is where we found Christian.. And where i found out the story of my life.
It was there where i found out that Zillah was my father, and that i belonged in New Orleans..
And it was there that I met two of my friends and idols, Steve and Ghost..
And it was there, too, where Steve's girlfriend Ann became pregnant by Zillah and terribly infatuated with him. Bewitched, it was said. Obsessed.
Christian told us of why he left New Orleans. It seemed my grandfather had 'discovered' him while he was searching for Jessy, still searching even after all this time, and had nearly killed Christian. So we returned to New Orleans, primarily to fix things for Christian.
Ann followed - uninvited.
And then so did Ghost and Steve.
I knew my way around the streets of New Orleans from the very start.
Bless Christian and his wonderful ideas at my birth... he had shown me them as a mere newborn and they were forever etched in my subconscious memory.
It wasn't long before we found my grandfather.. Or should i say, that he found me.
He followed me, calling out my mother's name, and i made the mistake of letting him know vaguely of who i was.. He then tried to kill me. But an angry Zillah saved me. And it was there on the street below Christian's bar that my grandfather died, a sad, tired, and sick old man.
Ann died the next day, from either a concoction made to rid her of the vampire fetus, or from an unsuccessful early birth. And once Steve knew, he came out after us to get his revenge. He killed my beloved Christian, the only person that i felt ever truely cared for me tenderly - killed him,
with a knife through the heart.
My tall Christian, my quiet and sorrowful Christian. I still miss him. The only vampire in traditional form of us all.
And Ghost tried to protect Steve, his very best friend, from my father's mutual wrath - killed Zillah, my fiery and bold father.... though some times i wonder at the certainty of that.
Sometimes when i am off wandering alone in the dark, as i often do, i will see a shadow in the darkness, and the glint of sparkling green eyes..
Angry eyes. Eyes that blame me for an early death.
I am not sure if somehow my father survived. The likelihood seems very impossible..
But i still feel as if i am being followed by.. Someone..
Someone angry.
I would like to believe that it was him.. Because then some of my sadness and guilt would be lifted..
But i am well aware that if it is indeed him, i will pay for what he considers as my fault..
I will pay very dearly if that is the case, indeed.
Because I know that he blames me. He wanted to kill Steve and Ghost back in North Carolina, and i stopped him. And his payment for letting me stop him was his death. It was my fault they were even still alive. It was my fault that Zillah slept with Ann in the first place, as revenge on me for protecting Steve and Ghost. And it was my fault for being too sick and weak at the time to stop Ghost from killing him. I know this. I know it in my heart, and it eats at me every day..
Just as the look Zillah gave me at his final moments does. Hatred. Blame. Regret.
I was Zillah's only child, his sugar-candy baby boy, and in a roundabout way, i brought about his death. It was my friends wielding the knives. It was my fault and the look he gave me as he breathed his last gasps of life let me know this.
