Chapter Thirty-Five - Diary Entry #9
September 19, 1822
Yesterday the man who had saved Cecile from drowning, joined our family for supper.
The meal went well, I'd say, although he didn't talk much about himself, only about his travels. I believe that papa found the man to be strangely charming, because he invited him to have a drink or two with him.
After supper, Cecile and I were sent off to bed. Amid the night, I awoke to a crash. I crept out from my chamber and down the stairs, to the living room, where I witnessed the unthinkable.
Mama was on the floor lying in a pool of her own blood, and the man, our guest, was biting papa's neck, and drinking from it.
I backed away in fear, knocking something over in the process. The man looks up, and once we make eye contact, I go light-headed, and everything goes black.
When I awoke I was back in my bed-chamber, at first it seemed as though it had been a horrible horrible dream. It was not. A servant girl came into the room, and informed me of my parents' untimely death.
I let out a scream, and told her of what I witnessed that night, but she didn't remember us having a guest that night. And everyone I asked about it, had said the same, even Cecile.
They say that I have gone mad with grief, but I know what I saw. I know the truth.
-Cybelle