INBOX: This is the picture


From:  Lauren Lyles (lysistrata@webvampyr)
Date:   Tues, 18 Aug 2009
To:      vampironyis@live.com
________________________________________________

So after looking everywhere, I finally found the picture I was thinking of.  However, it’s not of when I was mortal.  I’d forgotten this was taken when I was dancing the variety revue in Greenwich.  “Dance of the Seven Sins,” I think.  Maybe even a little sword dance here or there.  Back then, I traveled between New York and Chicago, doing revues quite a bit.  It was right before WWII, dinner theatre and dance halls, ballrooms were everywhere.  You could have dinner for $2.50.  Imagine!  I remember seeing Gone with the Wind for the first time like it was yesterday.  It was Dec 19th, 1939.  The Astor Theatre.  I was in love with Clark Gable.  Still am, in some ways.laurenlylessmall

I was lucky I was vampire born at 22.  I still had youth on my side and in my blood, body.  In 1939, I had just turned 100 years old, 78 of which were vampire years.  I guess we’re not supposed to count pre-vamp years as we get older.  I was still an adolescent, still learning to control my feedings.  But I was lucky, my maker stayed with me.  He was patient and kind.  I honestly think he wanted a companion forever.  He liked that I had been a country mouse when he’d stumbled upon me ministering to war wounded, fending off brigands, deserters, and other men of low moral standing in the backwoods of North Carolina.  I was nothing to look at then.  I swear I still have a picture from back then.   I will find it with time.  After all, the smell for decaying news clippings from my burlesque show days drew me to this picture and with good reason.

Look at this photo and tell me that I have not changed in appearance…completely.  I’m up to five full minutes with my mirror.  This is no longer the face I have.  Check any Teen Beat magazine, you’ll see.

Along with those smells come a torrent of memories.  I locked myself in a room for days, overcome with lifetimes.  I was confused and disoriented.  It was only my stylist that was able to pull some sense from me.  She asked me about your mirror.  I’d been clutching it and rocking back and forth.  I’ve never done that before.  I hate to ask for your advice so soon again but…have you heard of this?  What should I do?  I’m afraid now to look for the original picture.  I’m afraid I don’t recognize me anymore, inside or out.

There’s something else I ought to tell you but can’t.  Just please, be careful.  I’m not hearing good things about Seattle right now.  Please don’t ask me why.  It’s just, the things you do, they’re bound to be noticed.  I cannot say more.

My name back then in 1939 was Renee Montes.  And I was a vampiress.

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