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Another year had passed. Another birthday had gone uncelebrated. They had lost their charm long ago.
She had begun to lose track of time again. How long had it been? A few weeks? A few months? A year. Another year. It didn‘t matter as much when she was home. Getting lost while honing her skills. It‘s what a good daughter did. Keep improving. Be what she was expected to be.
But blinding lights lit up the darkened sky, painting it in blues, yellows and reds. They had forgotten to celebrate Nightmore. And the mortals rung in the new year with a show.
Her parents had promised they wouldn‘t forget this year. She had promised herself she wouldn‘t forget.
It didn‘t matter now.
Sitting on the patted alcove that was her balcony, Draculaura held the stuffed cat close to her heart, the explosion‘s colors reflecting on it‘s black coat. She had given it to her, her heart pounding with exitement and hope, ecstatic that she had actually won. Draculaura could hear her blood rush with adrenaline, while her own heart remained silent. She wished it would reflect her feelings as it did for the monster across from her.
The noise died down. With nothing left to drown out her thoughts, she stood up. Gently, she sat the cat onto her pillow.
The floorboards creaked as she descended, her candle flickering with a light breeze. Someone had left a window open. Wood was replaced by stone, stone by gravel, and gravel by dirt. Large metal scizzors cut green stems in half, taking them from their life-giving roots. They wouldn‘t have very long now.
Draculaura took her time. Languidly, feeling as if she were floating. Pines passed her by, most a lifely green, while others were turning red. A lifeless corpse that still stood proud. It was an echo of what it used to be.
A hill emerged from the thicket. She would have to clear the path again. She could have sworn she had already done so not too long ago. Draculaura kneeled down in front of the headstone, clutching the carnations and chrysanthemums. She set them down, and held her hand to the inscription.
It was easier these days. Not having her here had become her normal. It was just how her unlife was now. She hadn‘t forgotten a single thing. And still, she found herself going for longer and longer periods of time without thinking about her. It was a relief.
She hated herself for it.
She was sitting with her parents, and the topic of how times were changing came up. They suggested a prestigious boarding school to her. To catch up with the world. She said she‘d think about it.
Ultimately, she went. The school was known for hosting all types of monsters, and she had always advocated for less seperation.
Most of them were bound to the chains of time. She would befriend them. Perhaps more. She would outlive them. It always went the same way. It‘s what she got for seeing worth in everybody, instead of just her own kind.
But she‘d do it over and over again. Not wanting to close herself off from what unlife had to offer, just because she knew, eventually, it would hurt.
It was worth it.
She would grow accustomed to the fast pace of mortal life again. Assimilate. She would slow down again.
Her heart may be silent, but the lifes of all those she outlived were stored safely in it. They shaped her, and she couldn‘t be more grateful to have been allowed to be a part of their limited, but indescribably valuable existence.