The Awakening { h.s.}

Chapter XIII

December 5, 1866

Jessamine walked down the streets of New York, alone. It wasn't ideal for a woman to be alone in the streets, especially at this time of night; but Jessamine was fully capable of taking care of herself. And she has proven it plenty of times. Harold, however, still kept a close eye on her, purely out of love and concern. He thought she didn't know that he watched her, followed her. She knew; but she let him have it, let him think he was her guardian angel. 

That was the purest form of love they could show to one another. 

As Jessamine turned a corner, past one of the town shops, she saw a glimpse of Harold behind her. "I sure do wish I had a big, strong, gentleman to come to my rescue." She said, overly dramatic.

"Well, a woman never should be by her lonesome." Harold replied, making himself visible. "Never know what horrid men could be lurking in the shadows."

Jessamine giggled, stepping back as Harold walked toward her. She stops once her back meets the wall behind her. The streets were completely silent, and empty. The only light coming from the oil lamp Jessamine clutched in her hand. The glow of the light illuminated Harold's features, so perfectly that she could only reach up to stroke his face a he peered over her.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you more." He replied, brushing the hair out of her face as he leaned down to kiss her.

They had kissed so many times now, you'd think they would grow bored of it. And yet, they only became more in love each time. Each kiss filled with more passion than the last. Jessamine knew she was in love, he was the first person she had ever let her guard down for. He made "living forever" not sound like such a bad thing. He made her want to live.

"Together," he said in between kisses. "Always, and forevermore." 

"Forevermore." She said.

_____

Once Evermore got the courage to turn around and face him, she pushed past him, sprinting toward the door. Suddenly a hand came and crashed against the door, slamming it shut before she could make it to the other side. Her breath hitched as he stepped In front of her, blocking her only exit.

"Please," she began, her voice frail and weak. "Just let me leave, and I won't tell anyone." He only stared at her in response, and unreadable expression across his face. "Just don't hurt me.." Her voice was almost a whisper from how terrified she was; but the hurt expression that flashed across his face almost made her want to wrap her arms around him, right then and there.

"I don't want to hurt you Evey.." She felt stunned. She thought it was weird that her father had called her that, but now Harry? Only her mother could call her that. No one else. He finally let his hand fall from the door, stepping away from her. "You can leave, just.. Please let me explain first." 

She tried not to look at him, she wanted to just get out of this, now stuffy, room. She wanted to get away from him. And even though that is exactly why she came here, she no longer wanted answers. That freezer full of blood was enough for her to just drop all of it and forget anything ever happened.

Harry sighed, and she remembered then, that he could read her mind.

She wanted to scream at the fact that, compared to everything else she had learned about Harry, that was the most normal.

"At least take this." Harry said, handing her a leather bound journal, she hadn't even known he was holding. "It will answer everything."

She grabbed it and then pushed past him out the door. 

"I'm sorry.." Harry said under his breath. Evermore ignored him, and the heart-shattering sadness in his voice, and left without looking back.

______

Journal entry one, 1862

                         Jessamine Gilmore.

I am writing this today, because I can no longer be a slave to my own mind. I must break free and write the words that have kept me in chambered for so long. 

I am not happy, and I haven't been for awhile. Mother and Father won't listen to me, they don't understand how alone I really feel. They are all I have, although I'm not sure I even have them anymore..

______

Journal entry six, 1862

                     Jessamine Gilmore

I ran away today. I broke free from the imprisonment my parents had kept me on for so long. I am nearly seventeen, and It is time i start acting like an adult and take charge of my life.

It's a funny feeling, really. I have never been more alone in the world than I am right now, and yet I've never felt more free.

_______

Journal entry twenty, 1863

                        Jessamine Gilmore

I have found a nice home to stay at, although it's not my own. It is with a lovely couple named the Styles, and their eighteen year old son named Harold. They have taken me in when I have nothing, and for that I am eternally grateful.

_______

As Evermore read, her eyes brimmed with tears. This was her mother. Her mother had held this book in her hands, had stroked her ink pen across the, now worn, pages. Her mother had poured her heart, and soul, and all of her deepest thoughts into this journal. And she had written it over a hundred years ago.

Evermore knew this was impossible, her mother could not have written this, for she was not alive then.

Although, at this point, was anything impossible?

Unable to continue reading, she grabbed the journal, slipped on her shoes, and got in her car. She drove to the cemetery, the same cemetery she has visited so many times in her life she has lost count. Although, she had visited it more in the past few months than usual.

Once she was there, the sun had already began to set. No one else seemed to be there except for her. She got out her Mother's journal, sat down, and began to cry. Had everything she ever knew about her Mother been a lie? Did she even know her Mother at all? And if all of this is true, if Harry and her Mother were both vampires, if they were really once in love, why had he come into Evermore's life?

And was what she felt for Harry, what she kept buried deep inside, and what she thought he felt for her, also a lie?