18 years old, 1811

Estelle had only been young when she understood fully that her family was different. Moving constantly due to the nature of her maman's and uncle Hugo's peculiar habits, she had never questioned much. 

She had been explain, only a few years back, that Marion and Hugo drank the blood of animals. It was the only way to assure their eye colour remained the same, so that they might stay close to Estelle as she grew. 

It was the night that she had snuck out of their home at only fifteen to meet with a young boy of equal age who fancied her did she learn the truth of her family -- piecing together the details by the stories that were told of demons in the night. 

Vampires, as it was, were not nearly as terrifying as he townspeople believed they were. Not even when she had met those vampires that came wandering through with the red eyes and dark cloaks who spoke to her maman. 

The terrifying part was the subtle phrases and promises spoken by her family that swore they were to leave her to live her life as she ought to have, to live a life that hadn't been stolen away too short. 

The thought of being alone reminded her of growing, of being cold and without breath. It made her chest burn and scream. It would either send her into a frenzy of emotions unbecoming or shock her into a stillness that locked her limbs and kept her prisoner. 

As she notices that their things begin to disappear one day, the little trinkets and reminders that she knew her mother would never part with unless forced, Estelle realized that they day had come. 

It was the middle of the morning, early in the hours still. The sun was high, shinning brightly over their little cottage at the edge of the village. With the young men often making an appearance with the request to court her, she knew that they would not leave her truly alone just yet. No, she imagined that her maman would see it more appropriate to leave her as a ward to a dear friend and their husband.

She would be left a large dowry, that much was certain, and a yearly allowance was guaranteed to whomever should be stuck with her. 

It was a terrible, horrible thought. 

Estelle expressed as much to her mother and uncle, that being left behind would be akin to leaving her for dead 

"You are not viewing life as you ought, my little bird," her maman says. "You are afraid to live the world amongst your own kind." 

"I fear never seeing you again, being parted before the rightful time has come for us to do so," Estelle argues. "I wish to stay with you always. I wish to never be parted, mother. Please, let me stay with you now and eternal." 

"My darling girl, I cannot have you leave me for this existence. I would not allow you to throw away these opportunities solely because you desire it." 

Estelle seethes, fear burning in her throat. "Do not make me so alone, mothe. Do not make me so sad for the remainder of a short life. I will be miserable. I will be troubled and without love." 

Her mother's eyes water with tears that will not shed. The pain etched in the stone appears as though smooth and flesh. It appears as though there were no difference bar the inability to shed real tears. 

"Mother. Mother, please, do not go. Please, do not leave me," she begs, crying in earnest. She feels as though she will succumb to hysterics as she clings to her mother as a young child clings to theirs. 

A cold hand brushed through her hair, smoothing it down and tidy. She is held sturdy, strong. The arms around her support her like she was none still so small and tiny, barely knee high. "I will not leave you here, not to grow accustomed to this transition without a word. I will linger until you settle to ensure you are joyful before I go, my Estelle." 

Estelle weeps all the harder, clinging tight as she loses all sense of composure. She struggled, in vain, to compose some sort of speech or plan that you tempt them into remaining at her side, to compel them to understand that she is not suited, is not capable of withstanding the pain of their departure, of living alone, but their were none that she would be able to persuade her mother to understand when she held a human existence in a higher regard than that of her current lifestyle. 

She knew that Marion did not regret turning into what she was, she did not regret the second opportunity at life, but she kew that she regret not living out her years as a human. 

Already, Estelle has grown older in years than her mother was when turned. A few months only, but still older, still full of life and opportunity, as her maman would say. 

"I cannot make you as I am, daughter," Marion whispers. "Do not ask such a thing from me." 

It felt as though hours passed while she was held by her mother, letting her cry until she could produce tears no longer. Left in bed to rest, tucked into her blankets, Marion left with eyes dark when Estelle rested on the cusp of sleep. The girl knew she would be gone for at least an hours time. 

Estelle paced the halls, her room, the home entire. She counted the minutes, considered the options. She knew that her uncle would be hiding from her with friends somewhere in the village. He was vulnerable to her tears, weak to her requests and pleas. 

He would be within earshot, she was sure. He was never truly so far as to leave her in their home alone, and if her timing was correct then her mother would be nearby. 

It took much more consideration, much more careful thought before she decided rather stoically on what to do. 

Estelle tipped her candle to the floor and set fire to their home.

For three days Estelle burned in a blur of agony she could hardly remember. 

When she woke on a bed too soft and clothing that scratched at her skin but did not annoy, Estelle thought there was a type of silence around her that was quite wrong. The smell if the air was stuffy, make clung around her. 

She could hear chatter outside, could hear children playing in the distance. They were not close, enough that it was clear. If they were then she truly would have been disappointed in the description her uncle had given her of the range. 

Sitting up the room blurred with perfect detail from the speed. Estelle froze once more to settle herself, swallowing thickly around the burning sensation in her throat. 

They were not in their home , that much was clear. It was all a different style, a different decor with a new smell that did not remind her of home. There would have been no hone for them to stay in regardless. Not since Estelle was apparently successful in burning it to the ground. 

"Estelle?" the voice is the oldest one that draws memory, a sound she could never forget. Maman. 

"You made it," she breathes, launching herself across the room to embrace the woman with such ferocity. 

"Of course, I would make it. My little bird, I am so sorry. I do not know what happened," Marion says, voice thin and seeming forced. "You understand what has happened?" 

"I am a vampire. I died in a fire," Estelle says. "A candle had fallen." 

Marion does not reply for a moment. Steps outside the door prickle against her senses. A hand smooths through her hair. 

"It is your uncle," maman explains, "How do you know it was a candle?" 

The burn in her throat prods angrily at her attention but all Estelle can focus on is her mother. There was trepidation in her gaze, worry and concern. The shadow of a memory twinkles in her mind. 

The argument would not best long ago that her maman would not suspect the decision behind her daughters action, but the grief that lay their let Estelle know that her mother would not want to hear the truth all the same. 

Estelle would be with her mother always. Estelle would do anything make sure she stayed happy. There was no heavy thought behind the lie she created. 

"I saw it, maman. I must have knocked it when I got up for a drink of water. I could not make it out of the house." 

Marion, all her grace, pretends to accept it as truth for both of their sakes and nods, eyes falling closed in an attempt to banish the welling tears in her red eyes. "I am sorry, my little bird. I had to change you. I could not exist knowing that was your terrible end." 

Estelle smiles. "I want this, maman. I do not weep for a lost life. It is no regret to have this eternity with my family to see every and all things." 

Her mother pretends not to hear the confession, nodding once more as she holds her daughter for a moment longer. 

"Come. Let us feed you, Estelle. It will soothe the burn. We can decide later with Hugo where we shall reside after all this." 

Accepting easily, Estelle follows her mother towards her new existence. 

***

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2024-02-11