Old Character Piece 1

[Just to shake things up and give a break much-needed break from Desperate. This is an old character piece for one of my favorite characters, Vee. It's a journal entry, and there's a lot of back story to it, but I love the voice and some snippets of it, so here it goes.]

Could I have loved him?

I think back and I have no clue. I can’t
honestly remember if I did or not. I would love to say no; one, I never trusted
him, and two, I think I would remember something that monumental. But there are
nights when I wake up and I miss him- my lashes are wet with tears and I can
remember dreaming him up and feeling something…It could be love, it could be my
imagination’s perceptions of love. I don’t know. But there are other nights when
his wolf eyes follow me and I hate him.

He was a beautiful creature.
That I remember clearly- human beings do not deserve to be that beautiful. It
was like all the leftover pieces of heavenly beings- the traits no angel wanted-
had been molded together to form him. Of course, he is just the person I would
be attracted to- he didn’t look like anyone else, he didn’t talk like anyone
else, he didn’t act like anyone else. He wasn’t as predictable as anyone else.
No one could shake me like he could; my very core trembled and burst with every
look, touch, word. He kept me on edge and alert.

Can you blame me for
accepting his ring, then? He was promising to stay with me; security and
instability were wrapping themselves around me in the most twisted of ways. But
I have to ask myself, honestly- would I have agreed to marry him if I did not
love him? Truth be told, ‘love’ and ‘marriage’ were two deities that did not
connect in my head. Look at my parents; if there was any love in that marriage,
it died out by the time I was born. So maybe I did not love him.

What I
do remember is the hate that coursed through me as soon as I realized it had
been him- my parents were laying there on the cold tile floor of my old kitchen,
and he had been responsible for taking their lives. As I am responsible for
taking his. He said to me- they were fools. They stood in His way. We- that
unholy syllable- would stand strong by Him, together. His eyes fell once- his
pearlescent, piercing, too-pale eyes faltered only one time. I think he knew,
then, what was in my mind.

He would not stand with strong, not with me,
not by Him, not at all. His body crumpled, falling between theirs- the world’s
most absurd, beautiful creation broken, dead on the floor of the Heath Manor.
His eyes stared up at me, still alert, still shocked, still searching. Even
death did not dim his eyes. Even death did not shake him from me- my entire life
has been determined by him. He follows me everywhere, watching me, darkening my
days and stalking me in my sleep, whispering in my ear during every sacred
silent moment-

Could I have loved him?