The ground she lay on was wet, and she felt goosebumps on her arms. Her violet eyes opened, and all she could see was red. Lips parted to scream, but a hand roughly covered her mouth. Struggling to no avail, she felt a white hot pain at her shoulder blades, and then heard a horrible ripping sound. The world dissolved into blinding pain...

::Lilith awoke with a start, her body covered in a chilling sweat. She lay still a long while, staring at the wall opposite her bed. Eyes blinking shut, she tried to recall what was so scary from just moments ago, but all that came to her was darkness. When she pushed her mind harder to remember, a searing pain bolted across her temples and she gave a soft cry, raising her hands to grasp the sides of her head.

Ever so slowly, the pain ebbed, and she rose from bed, reaching her arms towards the ceiling in a stretch that rewarded her with a popping in her shoulders. A dull throbbing ache started in her back, concentrated primarily at her scarring. Maybe she pulled some tissue there from thrashing? She didn't think that was the case, but who knew?

Making her way over to her small writing desk she eased herself into the chair, being careful not to lean against the chair's back. Sliding her notebook towards her, she grabbed a pencil and put it to the page...Then pulled it away again. "It's not like she's dead, Lilith!" she growled at herself angrily, pushing the pencil back into the paper so hard the tip snapped. The pencil went flying across the room: a result of her mini-tantrum. A pen to the paper this time, and Lilith began to write...::

"Dearest Brynn,

I don't know where to send this, or if you would get it even if I tried. What happened that night? What went so horribly wrong to separate us by worlds...universes even? We had the spell perfectly plann--"

::Lilith angrily scribbled a line across the page, segregating the first paragraph from the rest of the letter::

"...None of that matters now. I hope you are well, my friend. I wish I had the power to find you, maybe I do, but I'm scared to try after what happened with us. I tried to hold on to your hand...but the force of the Tear was too strong. Its my fault we separated. I should have--"

::The page was ripped violently from the notebook and suffered the same fate as the poor pencil, lost forever behind the dresser in the corner of the room. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried again.::

"My Dearest Brynn,

I'm saddened you aren't with me. This place sucks without you. Being your friend in that hellhole they had the nerve to call a hospital ward in NY was enough to make it bearable, pleasant even, on occasion. Here, everything is new, and strange. I can be in an Inn full of people and feel utterly alone. I have met a couple of people here who seem nice; no one is outwardly rude, at least. Not that that ever bothered either of us too much, us being the brats that we are.

One of the men I have met is named Lucien, and that name stirs a small spark in the back of my mind. I wish I knew why, but when I push too hard I get this blinding headache that I can't withstand. There is magic behind this memory loss of mine, and I think it has to do directly with how I ended up in NY. If what you speculated about me is true, then I am a bigger part of that war in Liuthmel than I would like to believe. Do you think someone will be able to find me here? I wish I could get past these blocks. I think I am dreaming answers...but I cannot remember s**t once I wake up. It's so damned frustrating!

I'm considering seeking help at the clinic here, but they seem to have their hands full with some quarantine issue. Sweet girl, who was affected. She sold me the tastiest pack of cloves I've ever had. I wonder if I'm using their preoccupation as an excuse to not go. Part of me wants to remember, but there is a part of me that wonders if all of this is best left buried in the back of my mind. Waking up with a scream dying on my lips is hardly indicative of a pleasant experience, neh?

I wish you were here, so you could whisper to me as I fell asleep of the Guardians in your world; the protectors of the heirs to the throne. I hope that this night finds you well, and that if you are back in Liuthmel, that you are far removed from the bloodlust and court antics you described to me. As an heir apparent yourself, though, this hardly seems likely. I'm not sure what I used to pray to, if anything, but I offer up all of me to wish you well.

Your Partner in Insanity,
Lilith."

::Rising rather stiffly from her chair, she stared down at the notebook, her eyes void of any visible emotion. The ache in her back snapped her out of it, and she hastily pulled on some clothes, and headed downstairs to the bustle of the Inn. Her room was just too quiet; the pages refused to talk back.::

Dearest Brynn,

Today I had meant to get over to West End to see about finding a place of my own besides the Inn, but I got distracted by the museum and well, by the time I was done it was time to come back here for some more non-sleep. What I really want is just a small apartment, even something a little more run-down if it meant having a place of my own. I miss our place in NY, before the hospital. It was pretty much a dump...but it was ours. I hopefully have enough for a down payment anywhere I go, but I think that some places in West End are kind of...deserted, to pick a nice word. I might get away with squatting for a while until I can fix something up. Who knows?

I had to sell some of your jewelry, but that was your intention in giving it to me, after all. I kept the bracelet, though. I don't think I can part with that, even if hematite turns out to be more valuable than diamonds here. (I doubt that very much, though) I'm still looking for a job and I have a lead on -- don't laugh when you read this -- a modeling gig. I guess I can cover up my scar with makeup like I did in New York. I hate wearing make-up but oh well. I need the money. What I have saved is not going to last too long.

Alain and I ran into each other today, we talked about my past a bit, and my scars on my back. He thinks I'm an angel. I have to admit I laughed in his face. I feel kind of bad about that now, but he thinks that what we call Guardians are really Celestial creatures. I have to admit I'm not sure. But as for me being an angel, I think it's bogus, at least in the usual meaning of the word. You said yourself I'm some odd half-breed, but you can't tell what. I don't know what I am, but I do know what I'm not. And a holy creature is not it. He did bring up a good point about Guardians finding their way here, though. You said that creating Tears was easiest for them, and they were probably the only ones powerful enough to make them between entire realms. I'm not taking any chances. Living in West End makes it hard to be found, so I've heard. I don't want a repeat of whatever ripped up my back, wing-removal or not. From the look of the scars it must have hurt like a bitch, and as strong as I am, I don't want to face the thing that was strong enough to do that to me.

Alain also gave me a lead on someone who may be able to help me restore my memories. I hope it works, because then my questions would more likely than not have answers, and I can stop looking for trouble and settle down. I just hate not knowing where I come from, but that was the cause of all of our trouble, neh? I'm still nervous to know, but I should work up the courage to seek this guy out soon enough.

Tomorrow: West End. I need to find a home, or at least a temporary crashing pad. For now I will try to sleep, and hopefully it will be a dreamless one. I hope this night finds you well.

Darkness guide you my friend.

Your partner in Insanity,
Lilith

Dearest Brynn,

I need to get away for the weekend, I think. Take some time to process all of this. I'm getting out of RhyDin and heading up into the mountains for the weekend. The weather is nice enough, I think. Somehow I don't think it will be the first time I've slept outside for a couple of days.

I had a horrible dream last night, but the memory of it is fading fast. I know it was wildly vivid when it was happening, but now it feels very far away. Which is good. It sucked.

I want to do some heavy meditation; clear out the smoke that's clouding up my thoughts. I have to be alone to do that, and even in my room at the Inn I can feel other people nearby. It's distracting and I can't seem to push past. So wish me luck. Don't worry, I'm not pushing to remember, I'm only pushing to clear out this daze I'm in. The memories have to be triggered naturally, I know, but I feel like my head in surrounded in fog. That needs to go away.

Thinking of you every day,
Your partner in Insanity,
Lilith

Dearest Brynn,

Tonight I paid a visit to the graveyard. I always assumed I had seen my share of battle, since I come from a war-torn land. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined that I had killed an innocent, though. I dreamt of the Nightshade Trials, or a part of them, I guess. I killed a boy in the ring. His name was Damien Lilbeck, and he was only my age, if not younger. I broke his neck like a twig beneath my hands. I feel ill now just thinking about it; my stomach turns with the memory of that sound. I tried to heal him but failed, at least according to my memory.

I don?t think I?m remembering it wrongly, either. The guilt feels so fresh now. Like a wound cut open inside me that I don?t have the power to heal. It was just one lousy life that I knew nothing about. I don?t know what I feel so damned guilty about it now. What kind of **** is that? Unfair, that?s what.

It was a stupid accident. But what if there are other times? Times that weren?t accidents? I know I must have been involved in some less-than-pleasant situations?my scars alone are indicative of that?but to take life without being in a life or death situation? I feel?tainted.

In the dream it seemed like there was something inside me, something rising from my core. It was that?thing?that killed Damien. It took over; it was pure instinct fueled by that?power. I?m scared, Brynn. No. I?m terrified. I hope that my mind is making that part up, because in my dream, as the fight was happening, I was loving it. My soul was singing with the Darkness coursing through me. It shames me to admit.

I need your guidance, Brynn. I feel so lost right now. The next steps I take will be cautious, that?s for sure.

Missing you always,
Your partner in Insanity,
Lilith

Dearest Brynn,

I had an odd dream tonight, as per my usual lately. But again, it was so bizarre. I was hunting. Stalking prey. Reveling in the kill. What the f*ck is wrong with me?

I felt freaking possessed. I felt?invincible. I was completely and utterly in the moment, as if I knew I would win. That was just the only option. I was fighting a panther, a Feral man. Not one of their assassins, I don?t think. The kill seemed too easy. Probably just some innocent Cyanthe citizen. Not sure, really. And I guess at this point, I don?t really care.

I can?t change the past, but I?m doomed to watch it a little at a time, no matter how unsavory. Problem is, I feel nothing but remorse now. Is that a side-effect of having my memory erased? Or is that just who I really am? Have I always relished the kill? Or did I secretly cry for every victim?

So many questions that still have no answers. I guess I really just want one answered, more than the rest. Am I a killer? And if so, then try this one: Why would a healing power be put in the same vessel as bloodlust?

And I have fangs! Freaking fangs! Honest-to-Darkness-no-refunds-please-100%-all-natu ral FANGS. Well, when I push on my canines, anyways. And the creepiest thing is, it feels good. You never told me that Guardians have fangs. You told me we drank blood, and could get drunk off of milk, but never a word about fangs. I wonder if you even knew. It?s not like it came up in New York?at least, not when we were together.

I pose this question to the Darkness and everything within its touch.
What the f*ck?

Your partner in Insanity,
Lilith

Dearest Brynn,

How many letters will I write you about this same day? Last evening, I met a vampire named Darcy. She had an?odd?reaction to me. I guess odd is an understatement. She?s a dreamcatcher, of sorts. And she has been picking up my nightmares. I asked her to show me, against my better judgment, what I?ve been dreaming of.

Oh, sweet Darkness, Brynn. What in the world am I mixed up in? For so long I haven?t been able to remember my nightmares and they came to me all at once. I barely stayed sane. Those two years in New York, tossing and turning only to wake up in a cold sweat with no relief of knowing what it was that made me so scared.

I had every right to be scared, Brynn. I had every right. Granted, I dreamed about the same things quite a bit, but still. That doesn?t make them any less terrifying. If they ever found me?

I?m not even going to think about that. My flat in West End is almost complete. The pipes need fixing, but that shouldn?t take much. Once I?m in West End, I think I?ll be safe. I haven?t used my last name since I?ve been here but once. We?ll see. I think I?ll be safe.

I hope.

Your partner in Insanity,
Lilith

Dearest Brynn,

I am the official owner of a dilapidated warehouse in West End. It?s going to cost a small fortune to renovate and make into the dream club that I have in mind?but everything in its own time, I guess. Or whatever that stupid saying is. I?m just glad that the property is mine now. I could even stay there, if things like running water weren?t a necessity and I didn?t mind that draft from all those boarded up windows. I think I?ll just stay in my flat for now, until the warehouse is finished.

In any event, I?ve been talking to this guy named Pavan for the past couple of days. He?s kind of hard to draw out into a conversation, very reserved, but I?m working on it. As such a loudmouth with an odd sense of humor, I get great pleasure in drawing others out of their shells. I?m actually attempting to cook tonight in celebration of my property ownership. With Alain gone, he?s really the only person I know enough to share it with me.

I do owe Alain a dinner, though. With everything he?s done for me since I?ve been here, it?s the least I can do. Hopefully my cooking luck holds. Sometimes I?m a disaster in the kitchen, and sometimes I?m a freaking genius, as you well know. The other morning I couldn?t even manage to make an egg. I?m just a spaz; can?t be helped.

They have a?um?Jello Wrestling thing here. Darcy and this other girl are involved in it. It seems like a fun idea, if not a little slutty. I dunno. It?s something to consider. It just seems like a really fun way to blow off some steam in a controlled environment. I might ask her about it sometime.

Miss you.
Your partner in Insanity,
Lilith

?I?m done writing to the past. No more. I wish I could keep this up but really. Letters to the dead? Brynn, I love you darling, but you?re gone. No more.

I?m too tired to keep chasing ghosts. I need to move forward. Not back.

You wouldn?t have it any other way.

Your Partner in Insanity,
Lilith?

Lilith sighed heavily, tossing the pencil aside. Cross legged on her bedspread, with the small journal laid open on her lap, she realized she had been dwelling too long on what she couldn?t change. All the little things she had no control over. ?I hate not being in control,? she muttered under her breath, tossing the journal into the metal bin beside the bed. It landed with a clunk, the only item in the bin.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Lilith stared down at the journal, her gaze narrowed. The hint of a flame started licking at the edges of the paper, and then it ignited with the soft whoosh of fire. It burnt down until it was nothing but ash, the flames softly eating away at themselves until there was nothing left to sustain the fire.

Lilith waited until it was done, then gave the waste bin a kick so that it slid back against the wall where it belonged.

She already felt better.

((This thread is coming to an end. No more reason to write to Brynn if she's dead. A new journal will be starting shortly to replace this as her first-person stuff. Thanks for at least taking a look ^.^ ))