I had two great loves.

The first had the power to weaken me.

The second broke me.

Vincent Stone was my addiction before he turned out to be my disease. Our love was forbidden, he was my stepbrother. But that wasn't the worst of it all.

No, you see he was a made man and I was his muse.

How could life tumble in turfs that are unravelling to the human mind , how could I succumb to this latitude of proportions that take me to this darkness. It's breaking me. I keep believing that the world is whole , that my mind isn't.

Its like my soul is pushing me to the place I can't see, but my heart is taking me somewhere else , to a place where I can't fathom, how do I see it happening when my very existence is slipping from my fingers, when I look in the mirror I barely recognise myself. I am just empty, dying. I feel there are days where I want to end it, end this treachery of these unknown parts, I am scared. Oh god help me.

This weight is beating me down, taking me in. I breathe every second, telling myself I am human, I should feel something , but I can't because every time I think, everytime I even consider it he goes and takes more lives, he says I am his muse , yet all I see in the mirror all I feel is a monster, a killer.

He kills them in my name, he takes their lives because they took me. He makes me watch, he forces me to accept it.

I know it's wrong, I know I should stop him, but when he touches me something awakens in me that I can't feel unless I am with him.

They say to be strong is to face your weakness, but how do I face him when he is also my strength.