Anyone could tell you that I have no business being Kindred. Even I would say it and since I certainly didn't ask for this unlife I have many times remarked that it would have been easier if I had died instead of being Embraced. Suneyva felt sorry for me. That is why she made me her Childe.
I was born in 1833, the second son of a farmer in the American frontier. We were poor and we were alone for most of our life in the west. The farm was only a small log cabin and a barn surrounded by lots of farm acres. The nearest town was two days away, and the closest farm a half days walk. We survived by our own work, together.
My father, my older brother Ethan, and I worked in the fields and with the animals. My mother took care of the home. She did a lot; making the cloth for our clothing even. The only happy memories I have of that life are about my mother, she was the only one who could treat me with kindness. My father and Ethan made it no secret that they disliked my presence after I turned eleven. And it was, in a way, my father's own fault.
When I turned eleven I knew that I had certain urges that were not normal. That was the year my brother taught me about masturbation. He was thirteen, strong in puberty, and he molested me late one night. And I knew that there was something wrong with that. But I thought that it was because I ejoyed some part of it. I knew that I was attracted to males and not females. When a priest came through our area on the way to California my father asked him to take our confessions and I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I told him of my attraction to men and I begged him to tell me how I could get rid of it.
He cursed me, saying that I was evil and would go to hell no matter what I did for penance. He also told my father. Before the priest left our farm I was beaten so badly by my father that I could not walk for a week, could not sit for another week after that. My mother did nothing to stop him, but she helped me afterwards by taking care of the wounds and making sure that I was as comfortable as possible. I forgave her for not stopping my father.
My father treated me more harshly after that. Though he never beat me again he made it very clear to me that I was something that disgusted him. He and Ethan would taunt me when we worked in the fields. I would be assigned the worst of the tasks we had to complete, and if anything ever went wrong it was always my fault. Ethan did nothing to hide his contempt for me either. He was so much worse though. We had a small home, small quarters, and from the time I was four my brother and I had shared a bed. He had molested me once before and now that he knew no one would blame him for hurting me he repeated the act whenever he wished. If I tried to stop him my father would hear and come into the room, and I would be blamed. I would be humiliated.
It went on like that for some time, but things had gradually begun to change as I became better at another useful task. I was the hunter. I learned to shoot a gun when I was twelve and though I was small for my age and weak I could handle the shotgun better than my father. We lived in wilderness, the farm carved out of a forest. There was a lot of wild creatures to hunt and I was able to provide meat for the family; deer, rabbit, and once I even got a bear. It was the only thing that my father and brother did not critisize. Hunting was the one thing that I could really do well. It was also the thing that brought me to my death.
When I was seventeen, in 1850, I was attacked in the woods while hunting. It was late in the night and I was trying to avoid going home when three anti-tribu Malkavians and a Tzimisce who led them found me. They were killing me; already having beaten me and then raped me with the barrel of my shotgun, when Suneyva found us. She killed the three Malkavians and Embraced me before I could complete my death. The Tzimisce got away and I did not know he lived until a year ago when he attacked me once more.
I have been with Suneyva ever since that night. She is more than my Sire. She protects me and has given me a family. Through her I met Paul, my own Childe and lover. I am still weak, still dependent upon her kindness and strength. I have gained a great deal in this unlife, however, and it is not so impossible to think that I might be able to find a bit of happiness one day.
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