i haven't said enough...
 
 The Director

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    Tuesday, June 28, 2005
    as i stand here on my children's grave

    i did not know why i was out in the ocean, sailing my sweet christine. all i knew back then was i had to sail. and there i saw him, half dead. why are you out here, my michael. i gave you your breath back, you lived because i willed such. and now i am bound to hurt you again, as i have done that christmas eve.

    i am the thirteenth, the strongest in this twisted lineage of powerful witches. from the time suzanne called out to my lasher - my lover and my son - to that fateful christmas, my family's genes crossed between strangers and cousins and fathers and daughters. oh, oncle julien, why? why did you do this? you only made powerful witches, and the more powerful, the more crazy they seem. am i the same?

    i was the one who brought lasher back to flesh, as he had predicted when suzanne called him into existence. i was the doorway. i was the one who can kill without even my knowledge. and somehow, being a neurosurgeon did not absolve me of my sins. i called lasher that night. and he was born a man. i bled. i almost died. i had to take him away from him, before my husband finds us. but i was too late, or michael came early rather, i do not know. i had to take him away. that is my sin. pride. but i can't destroy this creature, my son, my lover, a taltos. i have to know what makes him different from us! but my sin brought this great tragedy to my family of witches. aunt gifford, forgive me. many mayfairs i do not even know about. all died of miscarriage, as my son rampaged every single one of them, hoping to find a powerful witch strong enough to carry a child. another taltos. my emaleth, my daughter from my son. how i wished you lived long enough to know you and love you as i have loved my lasher.

    but you left me half dead, the way i first met michael. i hear people, see them, but i can't find the strength to move my limbs. emaleth, you almost killed your mother! i was lucky enough to find my way back to first street - in the house michael revived from its dismal state. so did lasher. that sweet scent. i knew you were near. so did mona. all mayfair witches knew you were nearby by the account of your scent. by my michael cannot bear to see you, lasher. you knew what would happen. you always did. so why did you stay in michael's presence? you knew he will use a hammer to break your still soft skull. i am almost certain michael aimed at the fontanel - where you are most vulnerable. you should have stayed away from us, lasher. you should have.

    so how did i wake from my vegetative state? my emaleth came. she ran her long thin fingers through my hair. i loved your scent. almost as sweet as your brother's, your father's. you gave me the milk from your breasts. so sweet. it was ecstatic. i wonder if lasher felt the same when he drank from me.

    but i cannot let you live, my daughter. i just can't let you. i am only sorry that i had to take your life the way michael took lasher's. and just as michael did with lasher's body, i dug a grave by the pool, next to your brother.

    now, i am back in my michael's arms. and i am scared of what i have to do. i have to go after the men who killed aaron.


    ____________________________________________________________

    *shivers*

    i am hypnotized by the words...


    reading lasher right now...


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