I sat in the shade of the large oak tree I’d planted, about a century ago. It wasn’t clear. My memory often is foggy. I waited patiently for the girl. The girl who didn’t listen to the rumors spread by the old ladies, and the warnings given to the children. She played by herself. Didn’t she know that was dangerous? I sighed as I watched her get her nice, white dress all muddy from picking flowers. “Evangeline. Don’t you know that is getting your dress dirty?” I called to the raven-haired girl. “Yes, mister! But it adds color! White is dreadfully boring.” I chuckled at how right she was. Now that I thought about it, the color of brown against white was such a nice contrast. I didn’t mind it as much now. After a bit of waiting, and dozing off, I woke up to Evangeline sitting by my side. I felt… things in my hair. “What in the Devil’s name are you doing?” I asked, eyeing her up and down. The girl was frail, but hurt. It made my silent heart almost beat with anger. “I am putting flowers in your hair. Purple looks nice on you,” I could smell the lilac and lavender. I sighed once more and let her continue. Our time together was nice. And I enjoyed it more than I should, but I didn’t want to see those bruises again. What could a vampire such as myself do?
Tell me if I should make this a series!
