Caylee's Confessions (Caylee's Confessions Series) (14 page)

After
what I thought was five minutes of this, I felt him begin to remove his mouth
from my throat, and I could feel the numbness begin to leave my hand, but it
left a weakness, like I had all my muscles removed.  I think this was what
brought me back—slightly—to reality.  I had to remember what I needed to do…ahh,
yes…I just got drank from; I needed to try and get away.  But god, my whole
body hurt.  I attempted to move my arm, but only got a single twitch. 
Come
on, Caylee
, I yelled to myself.  All I needed was one motion.  I had to
hold true to my statement, that I would rather commit suicide than become a
blood slave.  He was still holding me from behind—so tightly that our bodies
felt as if they were molded into one.  This would be my only chance.  I had to,
before he moved from behind me. 

“When
I’m done, I will give you my…what are you doing?” he asked, because he must
have felt my arms move to position my stake, pointing upwards at my own heart. 
“No…” he began to say, but was cut off by my stake passing through my heart and
into his.  He was too late.  I’d already positioned the stake and pushed the magic
little button that made my stake extend to a three-foot lance.  The only
downside of this being that I had to stake myself to be able to get to him. We were
now going to die the same death that I had given weeks earlier to two vamps. 

Thinking
back, I would never have guessed it would end this way.  That my life, along
with his, would be taken by the same connecting three-foot stake.  But I had
completed my task.  I wouldn’t be a blood slave, and I had saved the world from
one less royal.  A life for an undead life—that was a good trade-off, right?

“I
will never be a blood slave!” I mumbled as I felt the blood rushing from my
heart.  He screamed again and I felt us fall backwards.  As we hit the ground,
I felt the stake ache in my chest, which gave me my final reminder of the death
that was about to come.  There was no getting out of this one.  I took my final
breath of life. 

Confused?
Yeah, me too, but probably not about the same thing.  You might be asking
yourself: how, then, am I writing this to you?  Well, let me explain…You see,
that ache I had felt in my chest when Braxton and I hit the floor wasn’t my ‘final
reminder of my death.’  It was actually the stake protruding upwards.  You see,
when we hit the floor, my stake—being three feet long—was long enough to be
sticking out of his back.  When we hit the ground, the impact from the concrete
floor made the stake come out of his chest, but still remain in mine.  Now, I’ve
probably really got your mind rambling thoughts like: how or why am I alive? 

Well,
to answer that question simply: I am not alive.  This brings me to my final
confession to you of why I have written this diary about the last year of my
life.  You see, I need
you
—whoever you are—to come and complete the one
task that I failed to complete: to come find me and kill me.  For, if you haven’t
figured it out, I am the disgrace I had once hunted.  How?  Well, you see, like
I’ve already told you, the impact of our fall made the stake come out of
Braxton’s chest.  Because it came out of his chest so quickly after I had staked
us, it wasn’t in him long enough to kill him.  He then pulled the remainder of
the stake from my heart, and must have injected or force-fed me his blood.  I
had already lost enough blood from him drinking from me earlier, and from
staking myself, that I was practically drained of all my human blood.  All he
had to do was get enough of his venom-blood into my veins to replace some of
what I’d lost, and his poisonous venom would take care of the rest. 

Which
is how I am what I am today…Caylee, the once secret undead slayer, is now a
vampire.  All I have to say is, Braxton is lucky he wasn’t there when I first
awakened, because surely, I would have had enough rage to kill even a royal. 
Hell, I still want to kill him and ask him why, especially since all he left me
was a stupid note:
When you’re ready.

Fucking
asshole.  I know you’re probably thinking:
What the hell?  You just told me
about how awful all these creatures are, blah, blah, and if I was not a poser,
I would just kill myself.
  Well, quite frankly, I once said I would kill
myself in only one situation and, well, I failed when I attempted it.  I’m
giving you the opportunity to come and find me, and kill me, because that is
what I would have wanted. 

Just
remember though, it won’t be easy, and thinking about it now, I might even be
writing this for someone to come to add a little excitement to my life, because
I haven’t been able to hunt yet, considering that I am now what I used to
hunt.  I really have no idea.  I’m not clear on anything much anymore…all this ‘new
vampire’ shit is driving me nuts.  I can’t even tell which thoughts/emotions I have
are from my previous human life and which ones are from my new vamp side. 
Basically, I am a mess, and I need your help. 

I
asked Claire—who thought it was hilarious, by the way—and she said nothing else
could be done, and I shouldn’t dare go to Shad, because I would be giving him
the satisfaction of being right.  That’s why I need you.  I need you to study
my past life, so you might be able to complete the one task I could not.  I’ve
given you enough clues—but not exact descriptions—of where I lived and worked. 
I would love to make it that easy for you, but honestly, I love a challenge. 

One
more thing before I go: I know you have just read about my life and think I
might be okay, but I guarantee you that I am evil.  Don’t let my life’s
writings fool you, because it’s been months since I’ve been human, and
considering that vampires can only survive off one thing…I’ll let you connect
the dots.