Good Morning, Caroline
	by Parrhesia@aol.com

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I woke up, and streched, enjoying the crisp, clean sheets. Gee, those were
some weird dreams!  *Yawn.*   I yawned a few times more and then idly stared
at the wallpaper for a moement, tracing the patterns of ivy up and down the
wall.  Then my ease turned to concern.  Wait a minute...where was I?  I
didn't recognise this place.  I got out of bed and slowly walked around the
room, my fear rising.  Why couldn't I remember how I got here?  What was
going on?   Had I been kidnapped?  I turned to leave, to find someone to talk
to, when I saw the note on the door...


"PLEASE READ THIS NOTE!

I know you are confused right now, and you don't know where you are, or even
who you are.  Don't worry, this note is here to help you.

Your name is Caroline MacGregor, and you are in a small room, in a small
house in New Jersey.  It's probably not too long after sunset, since you've
just woken up.  If you look to the wall to your right, you will see a
calander with the date, and a clock with the time."

I looked to the right, and there was a calender, that read June 1997.  The
date was the 11th.  Underneath the calendar was a small table, with a clock
on it - it was 7:34pm.  I turned back to the note.


"You are probably wondering why you don't remember who you are, and how you
got here.  That's why this note is here to help you.  You wrote this note for
yourself, with the help of Victor, your friend.

You are a vampire, Caroline.  I could dice words about it, but you know you
like to be straight and direct.  You were bitten by  a vampire, and you died,
and you became a vampire.  I know you, or should I say, I, won't belive this
right away.  But it's important to keep it in mind as you read.  You were
turned into a vampire 34 years ago.  You became a Malkavian, that is, a
member of a certain clan of vampires.  All the members of this clan have
derangements.  Your derangement, Caroline, is that you cannot remember what
has happened every evening.  Every day, you wake up with a fresh slate, not
knowing who you are, or what you are.

I know you think this sounds ridiculous, becuase that's how I think.  Proof
is what you want.  Look to your left, and on the table there should be a bowl
with some sort of fruit or food.  Please go ahead and eat some of it."

In a small black bowl there was one medium sized orange.  I picked it up and
sniffed it, and it smelled strongly of fresh citrus.  I was hungry...but what
if it was poisoned?  I put it back down, and went back to the letter. The
next words chilled me.

"I know you are afraid that the food is poisioned.  I always am, Victor says.
 But it's not.  Trust me, trust yourself, and try the food."

I picked up the orange, and held it for a minute, thinking.  Then I dug my
fingers deep into the skin and peeled, exposing the fruit. I took a bite. 
The juice filled my mouth, and I started to choke.  The orange tasted good,
but somehow, I was choking on it, coughing it up.  I spit it out and 
wiped my hands thoughtlessly on my nightgown.

"You could not eat the food, could you?  It tasted just fine, but somehow,
you couldn't quite swallow it.  (And you wiped your hands on your nightgown,
too.)  You can't eat the food, Caroline, becuase you are a vampire."

I couldn't belive it.  It was all so eerie, so strange...could it 
possibly be
true?

"I know you are still hungry, but don't worry, you'll eat soon.  In a few
minutes Victor will knock on your door, and ask you if you've read this
letter yet.  

Victor is a most wonderful friend.  I don't understand how he has been so
good to me.  He tells me, and I know from letters I have written to myself
before, that he has been taking care of me for the past 32 years.  He found
you, you see, and took pity on you, and took you to his home and takes care
of you.  He cares very much about you.  He is a vampire too, a Malkavian, and
he is terrified of germs.  He thinks they are going to make him sick and die
-- even though he is already dead.  So please remember to wash your hands and
keep things clean for Victor.  He is a gentle, sweet soul, and...I, you love
him.  As much as someone like me can love.

So when Victor comes, he will ask you if you are hungry, and if you are, you
can feed off of him.  I know you hate the sound of that.  Well, you don't
have to be like a vampire in the movies, and drink from his neck.  You can
drink from his wrist, he knows you prefer that.   Don't worry about hurting
him, becuase he actually likes it very much -- I know it's hard to belive,
but he says it is nice.  I know, I know -- it sounds insane.  Let me tell
you, I thought it did when I woke up today. The blood will convince you.

After that, Victor will tell you about the places you can go tonight, or the
things you can do.  I like to go to the movies with him, although he must
always clean his seat thorougly before he sits down.  Wherever you go, you
should open all the doors for him so he doesn't have to touch them.

Well, Victor says I should wrap this up, so I will.  Self, it's a tough life
you're living, and I know it's hard to understand or accept.  (Just think of
poor Victor, who's had to answer the same questions over and over, day after
day, for the past 32 years).  I hope this makes it a little easier for you.

                                                     ---Caroline MacGregor,
Jan 1st, 1997

P.S. : if this note gets dirty or torn, please make another one.  And every
New Year's Day, you should make a new one, changing the years as needed."


I let go of the note and sat down on the bed, facing the door, my thoughts
whirling.  Then there was a knock at the door, and a male voice said "Good
Morning, Caroline...."