BROWN EYES, BOOK TWO: PROLOGUE
The thing about remembering through the eyes of another, particularly someone who cares about you, is that often times there’s a protective filter in place, shielding you from the bad parts.
My time with Tristan has been a true to life fairytale, happiness to a degree that few will ever experience. It was the past that Tristan shared with me all those weeks ago—but it was a filtered past.
I know this because I can remember for myself now. I can remember the nights I cried myself to sleep after reading some headline about a “missing child” being found dead with bite marks on his neck. I can remember sitting with Duncan when they informed him that his gentle, sweet daughter hadn’t died in that car wreck; rather, she’d been turned by some random vampire who’d happened to be nearby and couldn’t resist the smell of blood in the air.
These moments stick out in my mind, clear and vivid. They are my fault. Those tragedies and countless others. Vampires exist solely because of me. While I enjoyed a blissful existence, the world was suffering.
How do you begin to apologize to a thousand years of humanity?
I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I can only say this: After coming to Earth as Merline, I’ve only ever gotten to be seventeen, and when you’re seventeen, love seems like the most important thing in the world. I know that’s insanely selfish, and I know that it’s little consolation to those who have been hurt because of my mistakes, but I hope it’s enough that you won’t hate me.
If you’re reading this, then I’m no longer alive. I pray that I succeeded in what I was put here to do. To the family and friends I leave behind, I love you. To everyone else, again, I’m so very sorry. Please, don’t hate me.
-Ana
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