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I lie in bed, looking up at the ceiling. Many thoughts infiltrate my mind: escaping the Clan, my freedom, and most of all, Mariela. My arms are behind my head, in complete comfort. This beats sleeping on an old hammock day in and day out. I hear the door knock, and I hail for them to enter. It was the middle aged woman from yesterday. "Hello, kind stranger. I was wondering if you would like to join us for dinner." she said with a thick, Spanish accent. I sit up, looking up at her smiling. "I would love to. You've been too kind to me..." "Que bonita! Come to dinner at 8." And with that, she left the room, humming a tune in her head. Since I'm a guest, I couldn't pass up on dinner. It would be ultimately rude. I get up from my comfort zone, and head to the bathroom, washing up for dinner.

"Mama! Mariela took my dinna roll!" "I did not, Paco..." Mariela takes the roll from his hand. "And you have to wait for more guests, you heard what Mama said." "But I'm hungry..." "Paco...silencio, por favor..." said the mother, scolding her youngest son.r1;Who else are we waiting for, Mama?" I came downstairs wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of torn blue jeans. Not what I had in mind to wear to dinner, but it's better than nothing. Mariela instantly looks at me, then looking down at her plate. "So glad you can join us, amigo..." said the man that once called me a trespasser. The woman offers me a seat across from Mariela. "So, stranger," the man began. "Do you have a name?" I look the man in the eye. "Yes, I do. My name is Howie Dorough." "What's that, French?" "Paco!" He instantly became silent. I look at the little boy, and answered, "No, as a matter of fact, it's Irish. My motherr17;s side is Spanish." Mariela looked back at me, with a near smile on her face. "Where in America do you live, Seņor Dorough?" asked the middle aged woman, whom was later known as Lety. "South Beach, California." That was a lie. The truth was I live somewhere that can be known as a second Hell. Since I am somewhere new, I might as well tell a harmless lie to hide my past.

I take a bite of some Spanish rice, or as Lety calls it, Arroz Sensacional, I close my eyes, and let the taste explode in my mouth. "This is delicious, Lety...you're a wonderful cook." This was a perfect substitute for blood. Lety smiled as a response, and turned back to her plate. "When are you going back to California, Seņor?" I look up at Mariela, after the question was asked. She was so beautiful to look at. I smiled, and said, "I'm not planning to go back there anytime soon, Mariela. I think that Spain is a very, peaceful place. I might just stay in this country." "Is there something that you don't want to confront back home?" "No more questions, m'ija. Now, help me with los platos." She was right. There is something that I don't want to confront. I don't want to confront the fact that I am who I am: a vampire. I chose this life out of selfishness. I always wanted to live forever, to see how life would be like come the future, and what lies ahead for this world. At times, I would always think about myself, and never anyone else.

I'm no longer selfish, for I've learned my lesson: never, ever sell your soul to the Devil.

"I'll help with the dishes, Mrs. Gonzales." I said, as I got up, walking to her, taking the plates from her hands. "Gracias, amigo." I follow Mariela into the small, yet beautiful kitchen. Mariela and I were standing side by side in front of the sink, when she turned to me, her elbow on the counter. "My mother said that you are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish, Seņor Dorough." she said to me, then turned back around to wash the dishes. "Thank you, Mariela. And please, just call me Howie, alright?" She looks up again, "Fine. Tell me...you seem mysterious to me. Why did you leave your home?" As I finished the last dish, I sought a chair by an old table, and sat in it. "When you said that there was something for me to confront, there is. There's something back home that I do not wish to face now. I don't want to go back there, because there's too much pain I have to endure once again." "Did a family member die, and you don't want to confront that?" "It's not that...it's just...it's hard to explain...and--" "You don't want to get into that. I understand..." As she starts to walk away, I gently tug at her arm. She turns and walks to me. "Yes?" "I..." "MARIELA! It's time for Mass!" "Alright, Mama! Would you like to join us?" "I don't know...shouldn't it be just for family?" Lety peeks in from the living room. "Howie, would you like to join us for Mass?" I look at her, and smile. "I'd love to, Lety." As she goes back into the living room, I start to go that direction. "Where are you going?" "To change." "There's no need to do so, Howie. God doesn't care what you wear..." She walks to me, and tugs at my shirt collar. "As He always said: r16;Come as you are.r1; I look down at her hand, then back at her, meeting with those luxurious eyes again. "Then shall we get going?" She responds to me with a smile, and walks out the door. My heart fluttered in an instant. Maybe, once I go to their Catholic church, I can be absolved from what I've done in the past.

"What is Blackwing doing now, Rave?" Raven gets out of his chair, and walks to the crystal ball. In it is Howie standing in the kitchen, then heading out the door. "Well, he hasn't captured anyone yet," he said in a Southern drawl. "Are you telling me that he hasn't found the right girl yet?!" asked Sangre, the leader in anger, walking towards the ball. As he looks into it, he sees Mariela in her room, freshening up. He was immediately star-struck. "She's...she's the one..." he caresses the ball with both of his hands, a greenish blue glow eluding from it. "The virgin girl...she's perfect...she will be the one to make our immortality complete..." Suddenly, his dark green eyes were a sea green hue as he felt her presence through the crystal ball. "Sweetheart...you WILL be mine..." he said in the infamous ethereal whisper. His fingernails became off white claws, scratching the crystal ball, smiling. "You will be mine..."