Saturday, July 17, 2010

Book of Memories


I sat on the floor near the corner of the shrine I had built back up to honor my ancestors. I had taken the shrine down about a million times in the past few weeks and just put it back up each time I took it down. It wasn’t really to honor my ancestors, more to honor my family. I felt that even though, I was desperately trying to put my past behind me, that my family deserved a place of honor. It was my fault that they had been so horrifically murdered. So it was my duty to honor them and remember them.

On the small shrine, I had managed to place small miniature paintings I had done of each of my murdered loved ones. My sister, my brother, my mother and father. Vestus, even a few of our slaves who had also been killed. Next to each painting was a relic I had managed to save throughout the years that had once belonged to the certain individual. On one side of the shrine was a miniature statue of Vesta that I had managed to steal from the temple after it fell to ruins. On the other side was a small miniature I had made out of plaster of my father’s villa.

And below the shrine in a small box, was my portfolio, filled with paintings and drawings of ancient Rome, my family, my past. I had even managed to write down certain things that had happened so that I would remember them. Opening the portfolio was like reading a very large book of Ancient Rome. There were small pieces of cloth, dried leaves that were falling apart; I would replace the leaves each year with plants I had managed to reproduce from their original ones. Sketches, road maps. A living document to my past.

As I reached for the up for the small necklace that Piran had made me, and watched as it gently floated down from the shrine to where I sat and into my hands. I softly turned the necklace over. He had taken so long to put it together. I felt my eyes watering, but of course no tears came. Could I really replace Petrus with Piran? Was that at all possible? I could remember wanting a family with Piran. I wanted to run away with him, I was willing to give my life up for him. I peered sheepishly over at Petrus as he sat on the sofa, watching the TV.

Piran had been dead for over two thousand years and I knew it was useless and maybe even pointless to continue to pine after him. If Petrus really was Piran reincarnated, then wasn’t it only right that we should be together? His touch, his lips, everything screamed Piran. But Petrus wasn’t Piran, not in personality or character. Petrus was his own being. Could I love him for that? Did I love him for that? I supposed that after all these weeks of being thrown together, I did love him. After all, why else would I be thinking about him?

“Is that Piran?” Petrus asked pointing to a painting in my portfolio. I nodded.

“He wasn’t bad looking was he?”

“No, he wasn’t.”I said softly tracing the face. He resembles you.”

“I had noticed that the first time, remember?”

“Of course.”
“Though this painting seems to be a bit better than the one you had hanging up. Why did you take it down?”

“I’m trying to… To not forget my past no, but I’m trying to live in the present I suppose. I can’t help who I am, but it seems useless to continue to have these constant reminders.”

“Alessandra its alright to keep memories.”

“Unless, the memories cause harm.”I said softly.

“How can memories cause harm?”

“You’ve never been through anything have you?”I asked putting my portfolio away.

“I was turned into a vampire…”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“No, I didn’t live a tragic life. Other than my mother who was a bitch, my life was rather boring, dull and normal except perhaps my band.”

“So you didn’t mind becoming a vampire?”

“Not after the fact, no. I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, but it was more that I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I understand there was a battle that night?”

“Yes. Stupid Romanians. They thought they could over throw the Volturi.”I sighed and shook my head; I knew that it was impossible for them to over throw the Volturi not with Jane and Alec on our side. However, given the chance I’d switch sides in the heart beat. It wasn’t that I hated Aro, nor did I truly dislike him. It was complicated situation and I was sure the only other person who felt that way was possibly Carlisle.

“Do you think they will try and attack Volterra again?” Petrus asked.

“Oh yes.”I said nodding my head. “Vlad and Stephen and the others despise us. I do think that eventually there will be another battle. But we’ll win that one too, I don’t know why they keep trying. Aro is like a solid rock who sits behind a wall of protection stronger than any the world has ever seen. Nothing can penetrate that wall unless of course Alec and Jane were to leave Volterra. Then and only then, could anyone possibly break it. Aro managed before without Jane and Alec and I think he’d be just fine again without them. He’d be upset of course, but he’d get over it.”

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