The Story of a miracle with dimples
Prologue- A rather impossible quest
She didn't have a name.
At least at first she didn't, partly because no one ever gave her any, partly because she attached great importance to names. . In her view, a name should be the first gift to be received at birth for a newborn. The name was something that should be thought out carefully, never lightly, by someone who cares about the person in question. A name should have has a meaning, a story, a reason for being. For her, the names are part of the legacy of someone. She would never accept a name chosen without a meaning behind it, given for someone she did not know . And, most importantly of all, the names, her name should be chosen by her own family. Preferentially, by her parents.
The problem is that she did not know who their parents were.
Well, it was not exactly that way. She knew how they looked like. Sometimes she had visions of them, and when she drew ,her hands, as if controlled by a subconscious knowledge, portraying them into one of her draws as if they were right there besides her, hugging and smiling at her lovingly. But they were not. And that made all the difference.
It was not her fault. Nor was her parents' fault, of course it wasn't. They just didn't know she existed. Or, if they knew, they didn't know where she was. It wasn't no-one's fault. How could that be? She knew that, deep down, she was sure of it. But she, on her innocence of small miracle, could not stop herself from thinking that maybe, she was the culprit. That perhaps her parents knew who she was and where she was but didn't want her. That maybe she was not good enough. That maybe she had done something wrong, or they simply they didn't want a daughter with a more than questionable origin. She would have understood if that were the case.
She was not like anyone else, and was fully aware of it. She was not like humans, and certainly was not like a vampire. She was not even like other hybrids , or crying out loud!
To start with, she had not even been created; at least the way you would expect in this context. Vampires were created from poison and agony and selfishness. She had been created (or perhaps the correct term is generated?) out of nothing more, nothing less, than pure love and devotion of two souls for each other. Out of this, and of an unrecognized talent on the part of one of these souls. If we consider the ability of loving unconditional and passionate talent, that is.
It doesn't seem that bad, does it? Of course it doesn't. She found it quite romantic, even. A true love story, a bit like one of that fairytales that mothers told to their young, dreamy, toddler daughters. However, when both this souls happen to belong to vampires, things weren't that easy. Especially on the baby's behalf.
At least this was the only part the story that she knew. This, and the part when, she appeared in the steeple of an old London church, through God knows which spiritual unknown means ,in her first days of life , without any memories of previous events.
She did not know how she knew this, but that was nothing unusual for her. She was, admittedly, tend to know many things that should not, could never have known. And her natural curiosity did not help when it came to keep her out of trouble. That, in fact- getting herself in trouble- was a fairly frequent thing in her day - to-day.
She didn't do it with bad intentions, of course. In fact, anyone who knew this odd hybrid minimally would know how hardly she would do something evil. She just had a dangerous dose of unstoppable curiosity, epic stubbornness and will to do well. Joins all these factors, a hint of well-intentioned rebellion, inherent interest in … well , basically everything , a big lack of company plus a fairly unlikely, but no less admirable set of skills, and you have the formula for the biggest trouble-maker in English history.
So it isn't surprising at all to find that she had made of finding her family her life mission. That was all she asked for: her family. A home to return to after a day of solitary exploration. A second name to write on I.D. A legacy that she could call her own. Someone to keep her company not because they felt it was their moral obligation , but because they cared for her , someone who would help her without being out of pity, someone to listen and understand and accept her just like she was. Someone who loved her. Was it asking too much?
Sometimes she had the feeling it was.
But that would not stop her from looking for her family. Because if she didn't, what else would she had left? If she left her hope that one day, through the work of fate or the generosity of Lord, she would find her place in the world, what would remain to support her? Nothing. And she could not even start to imagine a world in which he had no hope of a glimpse of the love and companionship that, she was sure in her hearth, she would find in the presence of her family.
In the presence of their love. Or, at least, in the presence of the love she hoped they would someday have for her. For that, on her behalf, she already loved them. Even if they didn't accept her, she would love them still. Once love found her, it never failed to stay with her. Again, the capacity to love passionately runned thick on her blood.
It wasn't easy; quite the contrary, it would be a frustrating task, even difficult. There were be times when it will seem an impossible task and when she would want to give up, sit down and try to live a normal life. She was well aware of that; but that was irrelevant. She had never been a lazy person, nor intended to become in a near future. And with near future she mean never.
It would not be fast; no problem, she could wait. She was patient - the kind of patience of those who waited for an improbability so great that it became credible. The kind of patience that is acquired with loneliness.
But still, she remained faithful to her dream. Not only because it was the only thing left to her, or because it was always her dream, but because they were family. Because family does everything for each other. Because if they knew of her existence, her family would do the same for her. At least that's what she said to herself whenever she saw a couple with their young children, obvious to the world that surrounded her small but impenetrable bubble of mutual affection And because a small part of her, the only part of her being that was selfish, coupled with the despair that sometimes assaulted her on cold, snowy nights, told her it was her only chance to ever have a name. That it was her only chance to know her identity.
So, this was her quest. Finding her family , whoever they were, whoever they were. In a world with seven billion people, 15% of these vampires, this demand was a crazy, impossible. But, nevertheless, it was her demand. And quitting was not an option for her.
It was in situations like this, when her faith in her beliefs was tested, she felt very grateful for the amazing amount of determination with which he was gifted at birth.
Especially because she would need all the determination she could find in herself on this rather impossible quest.