My brother Val and I walked on cobblestones in the rain. It was in the days when we were wild and careless. It was an insane time for us.
We were lost in a different country, a different culture and a different moral system.
He in black and I was in cream with pink roses. We arrived at a party and our lives changed forever.
I met a man who would almost ruin me. Val met a woman so sweet and delicate and morally corrupt that it almost cost him his life.
Tonight Val will come visit. I worry about his 90-mile drive in the rain. The kids, as always will be glad to see him. The elder ones will sing a little song for him (as they always do when they are happy to see someone).
Val and I will keep our dark evil secret locked away deep in our souls.
He said he’d be bringing his new kitten. The kids will like that.
I’ve been debating on writing about what happened 126 years ago. Two young people, a brother and sister from California, children of the Gold Rush, visiting London for the first time.
Two young Vampires who knew first hand the secrets of Jack the Ripper. The mystery has never been solved by detectives or historians. They’ll never solve it completely. Only we know who it was, up close and personal. Unexpected and horrifying. A tale of betrayal and twisted desires.
But tonight we’ll open a nice bottle of wine and talk of other things. Happy things.
And maybe, just maybe one day we’ll tell our story. Or maybe not.