Sorry I’m late. Had to stop for dinner.
I am Raven, a vampire. I did not choose to live in darkness, an evil demon created me, as did most of us, as far as I know. Why should we be relegated to life under the moon? Isn’t it punishment enough that we must subsist on a diet of blood? I’m up for making our little society a better place.
Raven was a visionary, a romantic. Her goal was to rid the world of thieves and greedy empire building. She was disgusted with the corruption of corporate influence as all pervasive and intended to put a dent in it. She would find them and drain their wicked blood. She would perpetrate upon them a death only they would be worthy of experiencing.
My friends would never believe who I am today, surely not my ex-husband. Maybe I should drop in and visit him. Hmm… something worth examining.
Friends from her mortal life would wonder if she’d lost her mind. They knew Raven to be a humanist. Self-fulfillment was paramount; freedom to choose was her credo; she did not react to environmental stimuli; she espoused reason, ethics, and justice. Nevertheless, as an innocent mortal, knew nothing about preternatural beings and even less how they selected their victims. Those allowed to live were in their early twenties, healthy, educated, and intelligent. While Raven had most of these attributes, early twenties didn’t fit. She had lost her marketing agency at forty-two, divorced from an unworkable marriage, yet maintained independence after both losses.
The mortal lady settled in an apartment in San Francisco, California, not far from the beach. She found her kindred spirit in the ocean and often walked the golden sand barefooted, drinking in clean air.
The mortal took her problems to the ocean and spoke in a low tone. “Well, here I am dealing with another turn of events, or a turn of the screw—the work of the devil. Naw. I’ve closed my failing business. And I love my new apartment! You gotta admit it’s the economy, woman.” She frowned at her assessment. “Yeah, I saw it coming, but tried to hold on long enough to accumulate emergency funds. I knew my cheap-ass Ex wouldn’t help. He had other self-centered plans and tossed me aside like an old shoe. I was no longer his bed partner, simply a barren woman standing in the way of his quest to find a fruitful one.”
She stood at the edge of the shore, pants rolled above ankles, and allowed the gentle water tease her bare toes. Although sad, she refused to cry. Daylight had begun to inch down into the ocean turning the sky dusty.
“Guess I’d better head for home. Not a good idea to be on the beach alone at night.” She gathered her belongings, stuffed them in a beach bag, and moved on to her car.
Another being, invisible to the mortal eye, had been watching Raven as she roamed the shores of San Francisco’s Ocean Beach.
Minnie E Miller
Writer, Essayist & Humanist
minniemiller247@gmail.com
From Muse to Reality 