Welcome to my blog.
I am Eden Montgomery, Vampire since the year 1910. I am often asked how I became a member of the undead. It's a long story, but one I don't mind sharing. And I'm sure that is the best way to start out a blog, by writing about my background.
I'll write pieces of my life per entry, somewhat like chapters. Writing everything in one entry would take far too long. After all, I have been on this earth for 124 years.
Well, here it goes...
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I was born in New York City in the year 1887 to Irish immigrants. My father worked a pushcart and my mother was a maid. I was the youngest of twelve children, living in a two bedroom flat on Sullivan Street in Greenwich Village. We had little to no money, despite the fact that both my parents worked.
My brothers and sisters all quit school early to work, but I stayed in school the longest. I made it all the way up to my senior year of high school in 1905, but dropped out when I became concerned about money as well. It hurts to say it now, but I was the only educated member of our family. Neither of my parents could read, and my siblings read at elementay levels. My parents had good faith in me because of my education, and hoped that I would one day be able to take the family out of poverty. That had been my life's goal--being able to support and provide for my family. My parents tried so hard, but they were immigrants; there was no hope for them. But I was a first-generation American, and I had a chance.
Once I dropped out of high school, much to the dismay of my teachers, I began working in a library. The pay was awful, but it was pay nonetheless, and I loved being surrounded by books. I loved to read. In fact, I still do. I worked long hours at the library, taking whatever shifts I could, and the work wasn't too troubling. I spent my days recommending books, mostly to children, and putting books on shelves. My parents thought my new job was such a success story because I worked for the city. I gave my entire pay to my mother, and she used it towards the household expenses.
I worked in the library from 1905 to 1910. In 1908, I fell in love with one of the boys who lived on the same street as I did, Gaetano D'Amici. He was the son of Italian immigrants, but our relationship wasn't taken lightly in our neighborhood. But we could not deny our love for one another. We became engaged after being together for two years, which I can remember as being the best two years of my human life. But, as in all tragic love stories, something came between Gaetano and myself before we could ever marry.
It was late, and I shouldn't have been outside anyway. I had stayed late at the library, preparing for a visit from a grade of elementary school students who would be coming to the library on a field trip. Normally I left work before sundown, but on this night, it was just past ten o'clock. I remember the unfamiliar sight of the empty streets, which were normally full of people returning home from work or kids playing on the cobblestones by the time I left every evening.
Just as I had locked up the library and began my long walk back home, he appeared. He was breathtakingly beautiful, with skin as smooth and pale as marble. His eyes were an intense and foreign shade of blue, almost like ice. He wore a black trench coat, and his shaggy black hair just touched his eyebrows. He was well-dressed, and I assumed he was a Fifth Avenue millionaire who'd gotten lost in the wrong neighborhood.
I'm sure you've figured out by now that this man was no millionaire; he was a vampire. His haunting eyes paralyzed me and before I knew it, he had drawn blood from my neck. I remember the way the blood felt as it flowed down my neck and onto my chest, thick and sticky and smelling of copper.
When I awoke, it was still dark out. I assumed it was around three or four in the morning. I felt fire pulsing through my veins and my neck throbbed. I looked at my surroundings; I was still on the block of the library, only now I was in an alleyway a few buildings down, in a puddle, no less. I felt as if I were seeing things with new eyes; everything was clearer, and minor details seemed all the more obvious than they had before. I took note of my clothes; my dress was soiled, rumpled, and ripped. My hair, which had been in a neat bun, was tangled and stuck to my face. I began to panic; had that man violated me? It was times like these that my heart would have been pounded in my chest, but I noticed it wasn't. I put my hand against my bosom--I didn't feel a thing, except my porcelin-cold skin.
It was then that I realized that I hadn't taken one breath since I'd awoken.
To Be Continued....
