The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

He was two years old when his parents divorced. He would later find out that the only reason they had even been married was for him. His mother had lived a very hard life until this point. She was born with birth defects that made her appear different from most people. A small woman of less than four feet tall, what she lacked in vertical size she more than made up for in heart. From as far back as he can remember she has been one of his closest friends. When she was born she was always given deadlines. I mean that in the literal sense of the word. Always being told that her next birthday would not come then that she would never conceive a child. She sent invitations to his first birthday party to all the doctors who had told her these things over the years. His father, however, was not nearly so kind. He drank and he gambled and had a general bad attitude that made noone want to be around him. After a falling out between our angel and his father over miracle whip ending with the angel in the hospital... he decided to no longer see the man that was his father and vowed that he would never be anything like him. Everyone had always known the angel was different. His mother called him her special gift from God. Makes sense that he would be an angel then I suppose. It seems odd how we view different things and different people. He was viewed by his mother as a godsend, by his father a bastard and by his grandmother a demon. His grandmother used to remind him several times a day that it was a damn shame that he was born a man and how much more she loved her other grandchildren. He took it all in strife and found refuge in drawing and writing. Funny as it would turn out she was the main reason he found his true faith which helped him to understand his gifts and what good he could actually do with them. Later in life he found out her reasons for saying such things and he gave her forgiveness for everything she had said and done. Her words still haunt him to this very day and have played a big part in why he thinks and feels so little of himself.

As the years passed he realized that he was bestowed with another gift. When he thought about a person hard enough he could see them. Where they were at that exact moment in time and how they felt. He helped quite a few people... as many as he could meet. The next one to make an impact on him was Candice. He was 17 years old now and already holding the weight of the world and all of it's problems on his shoulders. Candice, or Chastidy, she called herself both names depending on her mood or who she was talking to, would turn out to be more than he had bargained for. She desired more than anything to feel like she was wanted not in a sexual way, just that someone wanted her time. She was simply like nothing he could have ever imagined. He smiled thinking back on how she had made him feel so alive. He felt as if nothing in this world could bring him down. She was from a broken home, possibly the first connection he made with her as his homelife had made him feel like he were anywhere but home however that part of his story is not to be told just yet... She had left her broken home and was currently residing in a home for girls. The only white female in the entire place minus the staff. She came in one day with a black eye saying that she had been beaten up for not giving another girl her jacket that her grandmother had given her. This reminded him instantly of Nea and he knew he had to do something about it. This was the most insane scheme he had ever concocted. He talked with a teacher, who was a mutual friend of both him and her and together they hashed out the plan. The time came when he turned 18 and now she was in a mental institution for attempted suicide. It was the only way she could get away from the abuse. The teacher and himself had gotten all the paperwork together for an adoption. He filed all the papers and the teacher had a friend who was a judge that knew and understood the situation and granted that this 18 year old could adopt his 16 year old friend. The day came when she was to be released from the facility and he was there waiting more than ready to be the friend that she had so desperately needed. She never came out. His fist clenched. Turns out she had forged his signature and left earlier that morning. To this day he has not been able to track her down...

He had an incredible gift. He could look a person in the eyes, or see a picture of their eyes and know their soul. He could peer down into what they held most private and would use this knowledge to help fix them. If you knew what someone's true desire was, and they were unable to hide it from you, would you be strong enough to not abuse it? Where do you draw the line? If the only way to help someone, the piece of them that is missing is they don't want to feel alone, and you fill that void, are you doing it because you want to or because that is who they need you to be? When you spend your whole life being the one who helps the world who helps you? When the one missing piece you can't find is the one that resides in you there is no end to what you would do to find it. Some people need small things. To know that they mean something to someone else. The first one... Nea... she needed an escape from "the monster". To her, he was comfort and safe. They were both 8 years old. He made her his world. She was the first person to ever call him an angel. He had always just thought of himself as different. The problem with his gift was that when you see in through someone's eyes you see things in their vision. Makes it difficult to distinguish who is who and what is the truth and what is their interpretation of it. His eyes closed tighter. It was a cool day and they were playing games upstairs when he met "the monster" face to face. How does one recognize someone else's demons? Truth is you don't. He was asked to leave and went home for the day. The next morning his mother woke him up to tell him that Nea was gone. Her father had hurt her pretty bad and she wouldn't be coming home. He realized then what the monster really was and he cried as a part of himself was gone and could not be recovered.

His gaze fixed upon his hands studying them. To some they had been so comforting, to others they had caused pain and some they were both. The tones echoing through the empty room over and over again "I don't want to go alone". He felt more alone the past months than he had ever know was possible. When he was younger he had taken solace in his solitude. These days it seemed more like a prison from which he could not escape. He lay there stretched out on his bed wondering what he had done to deserve such a feeling of being alone. Names popped into his head and he closed his hands and eyes seeing them. The first person he had ever helped and the tragedy that followed. The young girl that disappeared from his life as swiftly as she had entered it. Such a sad boy his mother had always said. There were many others that flashed into his mind. It occurred to him that everyone he had ever found and cared for had disappeared. From a young age he had seen his own end. Knew he would be alone when it came. What he didn't know was how it would come about or how many people would become his world just to let it crumble. This is the story of how it all came to an end. These are the events that led up to his demise. I will leave it up to you, the reader to decide what kind of person he was. If his life was worth living and if he is still worth saving.