The Journal of Michael O'Shane

I watched the countryside roll past while I traveled by train from Baltimore to Boston. An evening travel with somber undertones, it marked what I deem to be the beginning of the end.

Sabrina had not been herself in years. While I held out hope for a long time that she would come around again, each year passed with little more than a steady cancer growing between us. The decade rolled from ninteen forty to nineteen fifty. One year into the new decade, I heard the sound of the inevitable approaching.

A choice laid in wait for me on the horizon, whether or not I cared to admit it. Would I remain beside Sabrina? We had been together for decades by ourselves until she turned a young, blonde-haired woman named Rose and made her a companion as well. I welcomed the newest addition with no small amount of resentment. Suddenly, my company was not good enough for the vampiress who gifted me death’s immortal kiss.

Still, I lingered. In part due to loyalty, but a wistful romanticism remained a part of it, too. While Sabrina sank deeper and deeper into abject apathy for anything other than her ambitions, I looked at her and thought of happier times. Waltzing through the streets of Paris after a fresh kill, their blood still warm in our veins while we laughed and carried on like lovers. Alighting from the boat to Japan, having just traversed China and taken in its culture and now ready for the next phase of the Orient. Arriving in the port of San Francisco… Read the rest of this entry »