NOTE FROM THE WRITER
Dear Reader,

I am here to inform you that the story that you are about to read does not I’m afraid have neither a pleasant beginning nor an ending. This story is about a girl named Sylvia Ali Whitlock. Sylvia did not have a very pleasant childhood at all. Well let’s begin shall we so you can see what I mean.


PROLOUG

August 30, 1986

A little girl was born. Sylvia Ali Whitlock. She was born to two adoring people, Margret Whitlock and Jack Whitlock. Margret and Jack loved Sylvia very much. She reminded them of her older brother Jasper. Jasper had joined the army two years before Sylvia was born. On July 17, 1987 Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock got a telegram from the army base of which Jasper was stationed at. The telegram had informed them of a tragic loss. The loss of their eldest son Jasper. When Sylvia was 10 years old her parents told her about her older brother. They showed her pictures of him at her age; she looked exactly like him. Then came the telegram which they gave to Sylvia along with all the photos of her older brother. Sylvia took the telegram and photos and placed them in her room. For about an hour each day, she would look at the pictures and telegram and think about her lost older brother who she loved dearly. Today Sylvia is 16 years old; and this my friend is where our story begins.


“Sylvia!!! Sylvia!! Get up its time for school!!” My mother yells through the kitchen and up to my room. With a sigh I decide to get up before mother yells up to me again. I sit up on my bed and touch my feet to the cool wood floor in my room. I catch the photos and the telegram out of the corner of my eyes, of which is now on my night stand and my dresser. I stare at them for a moment before finally taking a deep breath and ignoring them for a split second; just enough time for me to make my way across the cold icy floor. I reach my bathroom; I brush my teeth and change from my sleep clothes to my school clothes I picked out the night before. I stare into the mirror noticing what seems to be a rat’s nest which is my hair. I quickly grab my brush and brush out the nest and put my hair up into a messy pony tail. I walk back to my room, the floor is now warm. I pick up my book bag and put it on my bed. With yet another sigh I grab my math book and my unfinished English homework and stuff them in my bag. By now mother would be yelling at me to go down and get my eggs and pancakes, no yelling yet.

Ever since I was in Kindergarten my mother made me eggs and pancakes every morning before the bus came to pick me up for school. I walked down the stairs just like any other day except today I stopped at the bottom. I hear the eggs frying as usual but there is a different sound in the house coming from the living room. That sound is yelling. My mother yelling at my father. I pass the living room and all the yelling trying to ignore it all. I go and sit by the counter in the kitchen near the stove. I eat my eggs and one pancake; as I bite into my pancake thinking to myself “Wonder what they are fight about this time”. That’s when I hear my name mixed into all the yelling.
“Sylvia is 16 she can handle herself Margret!! Look lets not bring her into this okay honey?” I could hear my father say to my mother as I walk a little closer to the living room to get a
glimpse at what is going on. “Sylvia? Who is this Sylvia you to keep mentioning?” I peek behind the wall where the stairs are. I see that a man had just said that; had just asked who I was.

I reach down and grab a small picture of my brother the year he went off for the war. I hold it up by his face from my view. I stare astonished as this person standing by the mantle looks just like him.
“She is Sylvia.” My mother says as she spots me by the stairs. I walk to the man who appears to look like my brother. I look him over once. His eyes are a golden honey; his hair is the same as my brothers, a light brown. He smiles and his smile is the same of the one in all of the pictures in my room. “Jasper?” I ask a little curious as to who this stranger was. The man nods and hugs me he whispers in my ear. “I know who are, you’re my little sister. I came here so you could come live with me and Father.” All of a sudden I feel calm, calm enough not to feel the gun that is now held to my back. Jasper moves me away from my mother who I now see is the one holding the gun.
“You’re a monster just like your father!!” She points the gun at Jasper and looks at my father. I glance just as my mother does and see my father take out his contacts. His eyes go from being a dark brown to the same golden honey as Jaspers. In a blink of an eye Jasper moves and he now has the gun. I move out of the way toward my father and that’s when I heard it. The sickening sound of a gun going off. The sound of the bullet that killed my mother that day. Before I could move jasper was hugging me, telling me everything would be ok.

The next thing that I remember I was in a weird building. Lying on the dusty cold cement ground, sun barely poking through the small windows which appeared to be barred. I sat up and looked around the dark damp room. Looking around for at least some sight of my father and brother. “Jasper? Dad? Where are you?” I slowly stand up and walk to the door less doorway. “She’s awake what should we give her? All her life she has only had human food. I did try to sneak some blood into it but your mother always caught me in the act of doing so.” “Well father we will let her chose what she wishes to do ok?” I walk into the room which I now see has candles and a couple of dusty chairs which Jasper and my father were sitting on. “Umm hi.” I smile as I walk closer to the two who are now quite as I enter the room. “What’s going on here?” Jasper looks at me, smiles then says, “I believe that you know what we are by now my little sister.”

My dad smiled then looked from me to Jasper. “Sylvia I think its time to tell you exactly how me and your brother became what we are today.” He looked down almost like he was embarrassed and started his story. “One year before you were born your mother and I had received that telegram telling us of our loss. Well it was maybe a week after we had received it in the mail, I was out in the garden and this strange figure appeared. He said he was my son.”

“After spending a day with him I realized it really was him. He told me what is like to be a Vampire, well a new born at that. That’s when I asked him to change me. It was hard at first but it was do-able. Your mother knew nothing about the change until last night. She always had a way of knowing when something was either right or wrong, just like you do.” He laughs at him self and I stare at my hands then I look at both my brother and father at the same time. “Are you telling me that I’m a vampire to?” Jasper looks at me. “You maybe or you maybe not we are not to sure but we think that you are only half. Half human, half vampire.”