Monday, the 19th day of September in the year 2005

Dark arrives and I wake.

It's been this way for ninety-one years now. I saw the headlines on the newspapers, and I realized that ninety-one years ago, I was embraced. I stood over this desk for what seemed like hours while I let the mind take it's time. While I let the mind go through it's motions. What have I done over this near century of death.

Funny, I've been dead longer than I would have been alive.

I woke up with faint memories. I was standing under a dim light. I could hear the infernal racket of amber-sodium lights. My shirt was rolled up and I could feel the sticky feeling of blood on my hands. A splatter on my cheek. The feeling of the brick walls right behind me.

Is that why Father took my life? Why he brought me to the ceremony that night and had all of Vienna's Kindred of Quality remove my blood little by little? To make me feel the emptying of veins and the strain of muscles trying to keep pumping the blood as it was? Why he wanted me to feel every single drop taken by the hungry Kindred of the time? While I was given unlife and resurrected as naked as the Nazarene. Is that why he did it? So I can stand in an alley way, sometime in the seventies, having sated my lust for violence on a poor girl? A girl who was mine to do as I pleased, but a girl none the less?

It was not quick, my death.

It was not so relatively painless as many of the neonates remember it.

But, I was already dead before those of Quality found me.

... I still pay for this great becoming of mine.