Cassandra1989

Louis de Pointe du Lac, 1817 "Ignorant, selfish and yet I love him, love, it might be a bit exaggerated, lets us say I cannot survive without him. He made me into this… thing I am today. This monster, I should not be able to love, so why do I still feel like I need him. We both deserve death, but in a way he already killed me. He saved a damned soul from one endless hell, only to thrust it into another. Yet this hell seems much worse. I cannot survive without talking another's life each night, and each night he mocks me for trying not to. Yet why is it I claim to love him? He mocks my love for culture and poesy, yet insists on going out to t