She only journaled about the abuse when she couldn't break herself before they could.

          She didn't keep her entries in a regular journal, just on whatever she could get. She had to write when she had to get something out or keep something in her mind alive. She had more important things to keep on her as she went form clan to clan, cult to cult, and gang to gang and back again.

          Not many allowed documentation either. Most allowed some form of it, depending what they stood for and how they planned to conquer the rest of the vampire species.

          Most of the time, she conformed to the group quickly enough. She had a vampire's natural hypnotism to thank for that. It was her greatest gift and strongest talent, especially for a vampire that was born a human.

          The world that she was taken from was perhaps what shaped her the most, just as anyone's childhood smiles and frowns and teen accomplishments and regrets would. Her new world as a vampire on the streets or under the watch of a judgmental eye or hands of malicious creatures shaped her too of course. Through the years, she held onto better days, her human days, making all the difference and all the right tools to brainwash a natural manipulator.

          What she was really like didn't really matter to a lot of the groups she stayed with until she got expelled. What she was really like beyond a conforming tool didn't really matter to herself at times. Survival was more important, things like whether or not she could kill the leader of the gang she was in last. Adaptation was a great skill of hers too, such as a girl who mastered the art of sneaking out past curfew in her human years, sneaking around as a mercenary and erasing the memories her targets had of her.

          She had no real opinion of herself or what little she knew of herself. She evolved beyond that, she believed. She knew what she knew and she was grateful for the knowledge she had of herself, keeping in mind of those who knew less to nothing of themselves.

          Not every entry she made was read or found, or even known to exist. Few even recalled her after they would kick her out for messing up, erasing their memories in hopes they would accept her back, not knowing it wasn't the first time they offered to take her in. Those who didn't forget watched her do this from afar, accumulating a reputation amongst the vampires she didn't associate with.

          The one who knew of her and remembered her best was the vampire that killed her, mostly because she couldn't erase his memory of her.

          That was how she knew he was the right one, whether he was right or not on anything he stood for. Not only was he one of few to retain so much memory and knowledge of her, but his knowledge of her shaped itself beyond raw information, but into raw emotion that he hadn't had for anyone but his father. Even then, it grew to a different sort of feeling-driven compassion and loyalty. He cherished what he had found of her, making him almost human again, just as she wished for for herself and every converted vampire she knew suffered in the anarchy.

          She wasn't a journaling type, especially since she wasn't allowed to document anything. She wasn't sure what has going on around her anyway. The one who could tell her was killed shortly after he converted her into a vampire.

          There was nothing unusual in a seventeen-year-old girl having an interest in bad boys. Eloise was no exception, but she didn't let it show. She never dyed over her long, brunette hair and kept it in a simply ponytail. Her green eyes still held that youthful gaze as the girl next door. Polos and the latest jeans were her clothes of choice with the popular 80's fashions and accessories.

          She still couldn't help but look. She knew him as Rickey, but knew next to nothing else. She was curious and her fair share of questions for a cool dude she had a crush on, but didn't question the fact she had never seen him during the day before. She didn't notice. She didn't notice a lot of things. Keeping her eyes down left her out of different wonders in life from how many boys in her school actually liked her plain Jane look to the fact her crush wasn't human.

          To her, it was love, as real of love as any teenager may have, especially when trying on his last name like it was a show at the mall. It was love at first sight to have him propose in less than a month. It was love that the adults couldn't understand and with a creature she didn't know existed until his murder.