The Scent Of Roses

Chapter Five- London, England: 1581

            London,

            England, 1581

            After I walked away from the surgeon’s house, I planned on going back home. After all my parents would surely tell me the truth.

            The streets of London were hard to navigate even if it’s daytime. No one wants to be outside when night falls upon the city. It’s the time when thieves and murderers roam the city freely.

            I had never been in this part of the city before and all I could do was hope I would be able to find a familiar part. Then after that find my ways home. I pulled my cloak around myself tighter. It had a sense of security to it.

            It was hard to see with only the moonlight as a guide. I had to pass a couple alleyways even though I tried to stay as far away as possible. Finally, I passed a tavern that I knew well from my travels with mother. The sign swung slightly proclaiming it’s name, ‘ The Lamb’.

            I was glad to finally see a familiar place; it brought on a sense of joy. Maybe I could make it through the night.

            It wasn’t long before I made it in to the street my parent’s townhouse was located. Candlelight gave the windows a golden tint.

            I opened the black gate to the gray house; I stepped onto the stone path that led to the dark wooden front door. I was about to reach for the metal knocker that was in the shape of a lion’s head when I had another thought.

            Instead I stepped off the path and towards the closet window. I peered over the ledge to see within the parlor. Mother and Father would usually be sitting in there for their nightly tea and to read the newspaper.

            I saw my mother and father sitting closely together on the green fabric couch. My mother was curled into my father’s side, his arms circled around her. My parents had always been open with their love for each other, but not like this. My mother looked so vulnerable, my father’s face was red and blotchy. The sight surprised me, never have I’ve seen my father cry. Was it true? Was I dead? If it was true how could I be watching this?

            Vampire, the word whispered itself in my mind. Charles had truly turned me into a vampire. That was why I enjoyed drinking the surgeon’s blood. Did my parents know what I was? If they did would they be mourning me or hoping for my death?

             I hoped they would mourn me even if they knew what I was. Tears filled my eyes, I would never be able to face my parents with the shame I felt. It was worse than the time when I was ten and fell into the fountain.

            I had been wearing the new pink dress my mother had gotten me. It had pink ribbons sewed all over it. It had immediately my favorite the first moment Mother had shown me.

            I had put on the dress and was playing outside when I went face first into the water fountain.

            I was so ashamed I had tried to hide it, but my attempt was unsuccessful. I remembered the face my mother had given me. It had not been one of anger, but one of disappointment.

            The shame I had felt that day was nothing compared to the shame I felt now. I walked away from the gray house, tears slowly falling down my face. I looked once over my shoulder and blew a kiss to the last thing I had of my old life.