It was nearly a month ago that it happened. Nearly a month of asking myself what I could have done differently. I had stayed way past midnight at the studio. There were some ideas I wanted to lay down before I left and once I start working.... well, you get the idea. Everyone had already left except for the guard and night custodian.
When I left, they bade me goodbye just like any other night. That's what bugs me the most. There are so many nights that started out the way this one did with me leaving the studio. Why did this one have to be so different?
Anyway, I'm getting off track here.
I drove home, completely exhausted. I live in a big house right by the beach. It's a really nice house, though it is too big for just me. I suppose when you have a lot of money, you really don't think about those things. I pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine, climbing out of the car. I knew that I needed to walk. I usually do after such a long session, to clear my head and just...relax.
The beach is a wondrous place at night. The sand glitters as the moonlight hits it, making it look like you're walking on precious gems. The sound of the surf is calming and seductive in it's own way. I took off my shoes and socks, leaving them by the deck. The night air was warm, but the breeze that the water carried in cooled it slightly.
I never saw it coming.
One minute I was standing there, on the shoreline, watching the tide as it licked at the damp sand. The next, I'm waking up and it's daylight. It doesn't happen right away. The change. It takes a couple of days and oh what agony those days are. My body was wracked with pain. I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. I thought it was the worst two days of my entire life.
I was wrong.
What I became is far worse than anything I could have imagined. You have no idea what it does to you. The absolute misery and solitude that comes with it. I didn't understand what was happening to me at first, but it didn't take long for me to figure it out.
The guys were upset when I left the group. They all wanted to know why. What could I tell them? How could I possibly explain this without sounding like a raving lunatic?
They don't come around anymore. I can't let them. If I did, I might hurt them and that would make living the way I do even harder. The guilt would kill me inside as I lived on. I've become a recluse. The hermit on the beach.
It's kind of funny when you think about it. I write better now than I ever have in my entire life, but I have no one to share it with. I have stacks of notebooks that are filled from front to back and no one will ever see them. The farthest I go from the house is to the beach and only at night. The night has become my companion. It has become my friend, my lover and my life. It's funny how things work.
I'd have to say that the worst part of being me...is the hunger. It consumes you and only one thing will satisfy it. I'm becoming accustomed to it and know what I have to do. It's not something I'm happy about. Not something that I enjoy. It just is. I do what I have to and no more.
I survive.
Am I bitter? Wouldn't you be?
It is nighttime again and I venture from the protection of my house to satisfy my hunger yet again. I move silently...swiftly, using the shadows and darkness to conceal myself. The moonlight reflects the sadness in my eyes.
I am Joshua Chasez....
...and I am a vampire.