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a little brown book
finding the life of Alexander Shaw, a kind of serial story.
It grew so bad that Edward would not allow me to return to m flat sure that I would take a worse chill and die when out of his care. Despite a nagging feeling that something – someone was waiting for me there, I relented to his coddling. So it was that on a late December night, that I found myself waking up and feeling the hand of death on my chest.
“Xander.” whispered Edward, close by me. “Let me give it to you.”
My lips parted cracked from fever , but I couldn't seem to speak, so I shook my head instead.
“Alexander is wiser than he knows-”
I looked up from where I was propped- partly upright to ease my breathing. Vlad who had been absent the last few nights had returned at last.
“What do you mean Vlad? I thought that you agreed with me?”
“I do.” He sat on the edge of the bed, and put a hand on my forehead, it was deliciously cool, and I turned into it. “But you can't do it.”
“Why not!? You changed me!”
“I am somewhat older than you; would you have your lack of strength result in his death?”
Franticly Edward shook his head, as Vlad turned back to me.
“Or was that not what you were objecting to, Alexander? Are you still not sure about it? You don't have much time.”
I smiled at my friends, and managed to raise my arms far enough to catch their hands. Then I closed my eyes.

When it came down to it, I had made my decision in that alley when I accepted them for all that they were; monster and man.





 
 
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