From Camarilla Wiki

Better to Forget

Some say it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Those idiots have apparantly never realized that the world is a hell hole, bent on destroying us all individually, mind, body, and soul.

I loved a girl once. A few years ago, in West Virginia, where I'm from. You see, I was raised by one of those crazy, paramilitary kind of families. At age eight, my cousins and I were shooting each other with paintball guns. At twelve, my daddy taught me how to hunt with a knife. At fourteen, I joined their crazy militia, composed of my extended family.

That was all before the Change. I always knew something about me was a little different. I always thought it was just that I couldn't shoot worth nothin'. No, the truth was a little more horrifying.

Leaving my family was the hard part. Not because of the sad good byes. More so, because they thought I was a traitor and was shot at as I was trying to leave. I was winged by one shot, but I think my Cousin Eddie got me square in left shoulder with a nice high power rifle... I still haven't gotten him back for that. Thanks to Luna, though, that I healed all that up in an hour or so. Hurt like an ugly whore, though.

My first change took place about six months before I did finally leave. I was out camping (there wasn't much to do otherwise back then) when it happened. On the new moon, I remember looking up and feeling no fear, whatsoever. I had no fire, and there were no lights. All there was was me and the star lit sky. It was amazing.

I must have dozed off, because all I remember was waking up feeling really anxious. I didn't know why or how, but I felt like something huge was going to happen. Everything suddenly looked vital to me - the leaves, the trees, the tent. I felt like an idiot suddenly rummaging through and searching everything, but I didn't care. There was something out there that I needed to find, and I didn't know what. It was as I was digging through the dirt near me, my fingers bloodied and myself convinced that I was insane that I saw her eyes.

Two eyes, glinting yellow in the incredibly pale light stared at me. She was probably thirty feet away from me, but it didn't matter. I'm not sure what happened next, but I knew I had to run. I'm a pretty fast guy - don't get me wrong, but a man just can't out run a wolf.

As she got closer, I grabbed a branch, whipped around and cracked her across the face - not realizing what was chasing me. See, I thought she lept at me. I didn't realize that standing on the ground, her head was almost eye level with me. Hitting her just seemed to piss her off. Those massive jaws shot out at me lightning quick, and a wave of pain washed over me.

Just as quick as she was there, she was gone. I went home, covered in blood. My Ma was worried about me. The wounds looked much more shallow than they should have, given how much it'd hurt, and by morning they were gone.

I still kept the bandages on... I was still convinced I was crazy or something. Things started to get wierder over the next month, though. Doors opened and closed without anyone home, I always felt like I was being watched, or I'd see giant animals out of the corner of my eyes. I was pretty well freaked out.

One month from the night I was bitten, I was out again, though. I knew I had to be. I didn't know why, and I was scared out of my mind, but I still felt like I had to go out... so I did. I didn't tell anyone where I went, or even that I left. It didn't matter. I was probably going to be eaten, anyway, I figured. I was crazy, though, so I thought no one would care.

As I walked back to that spot, my legs lance with pain, and I collapsed. The sky cleared, revealing a black sky, and I screamed. My chest burned with pain, and my mind was on fire. I wasn't sure if I was laughing or crying or both, but it felt like it lasted forever. When I came to, I was on my back in the middle of the woods, with some granola chick hanging over me and another guy with a rifle next to her.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was mostly naked. Needless to say, I was a little confused, and very embarassed, but I felt much, much different. That's when they introduced me to the World I live in now.

What does that have to do with anything? Not much. I'm setting the stage, Prick, so sit tight and listen.

Anyway, joining the Meninna wasn't a hard choice for me. The Girl was the one who bit me out in the woods back then, and she was a Meninna, too. She was pretty, but when I learned what happens when two of us mate, I put the rocket back in the pocket, so to speak, and looked elsewhere.

That's what got me into trouble. See, I was out at a bar. This was before people started getting nervous around me. There was a pretty little thing with short black hair and a white wife beater sitting at the bar enjoying a drink. Some drunk Nascar fanatic thought it'd be cute to start groping her. She tried to fight back, but in the end just looked silly. I stepped up and did what any gentleman would do, and I busted his teeth across the bar.

That wasn't the last I'd seen of her, though. She had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. My pack and I had a habit of being nearby when it happened, too. It got to the point where it was a joke that I hadn't asked her out yet, because she almost looked like she was trying to come up with excuses for me to be there for her. She might have been, for all I know.

Well, one thing led to another, and soon we were an item. Unfortunately, the only nearby town had been claimed by a pack of Pure nine strong, so we suddenly had to steer clear of civilization. One bad encounter pretty well proved that we didn't stand a chance in open conflict, so until reinforcements could arrive, we had to lay low.

I warned Her not to go to certain parts of town. Well, one day, she did. She went with the Uratha that bit me... they wanted to talk about 'Girl Things,' I guess. They must not have been paying attention or decided to take a chance, because that was the last I'd ever seen of them.

The news reported two bodies were found in the woods, raped, beaten, and skinned. My other Packmate fell a week later... probably death raged when he saw them. There was nothing left for me. Their Alpha had a sword that he cherished... it was the only thing I could take from him without giving the area to the Azlu and Bale Hounds. So, as my last act of defiance, I stole his sword and moved away. Away from the memories, away from my failures to protect the ones I cared about, and away from the doomed Pure that did such an aweful, aweful thing.

Some day, I want to go back. Some day... but that still won't change things. That's why it's better to forget.