~FLASHBACK~
April 9, 1835
"That's right honeychile, you doin' good now , jes you keep on pushin'. Dat baby gone soon be here to welcome in dis' new day!"
With an exhausted and weary sigh, Lydia Loudermilk Compton lay back against the sweat soaked pillow, hoping for a brief respite from the hard, painful labor as Aunt Magnolia, the midwife, wiped a cool cloth over her face. Her pains had begun in late afternoon the previous day. She was utterly exhausted. She didn't know how much more strength she had left.
Suddenly, with a fierce urgency, she felt the overwhelming need to push with all that she had. She heard herself scream as she felt her lips curl back and something that came from a hidden place, that place that never makes it's presence known until everything else is gone, came rising up as she felt her child finally and mercifully slip from her exhausted body.
She anxiously waited to hear a cry. There! Yes, she could hear the angry, but strong cries of her child.
"Oh Miz Lydia, you done gone and got yoself a fine, strong boy chile. And jes' you look at all dis' black hair! I do declare, I ain't ever seed such a mess of hair in all my born days!' Aunt Magnolia quickly, yet skillfully, tied off and cut that most precious connection that would forever be a bond between mother and son.
Lydia Compton reached out her arms, hungry for the sight and feel of her newborn son. She gazed down at his tiny face, anxious to meet this wonderful soul who had inhabited her dreams for months. For a moment he just lay there, then he sleeply opened his eyes, squinted against the brillance of the sunshine, and gazed back at her. She smiled. Oh yes, yes. His eyes were Loudermilk blue.
Little William Thomas Compton, named in honor of his father and both grandfathers, was a joy to behold in the eyes of his doting mother as he lay there in her arms, greedily suckling the warm, rich milk from her bosom. She reached out to take a plump hand and pressed it to her lips.
*END OF FLASHBACK*
Bill Compton had remembered that night that his mother had given birth to him, as he re-called her telling him when he was six years old. A happy memory of his that he liked to think about when things got on top of him, forcing the memories of Lilith from his mind. He often remembered his mother, the day that she had died he would take a stroll through the cemetery and go to her grave and every year he would take one single daisy, her favorite to her graveside and he would sit there for hours, just listening too the wind and the wildlife that would emerge. And every year he would sit there in silence and only uttering one word before he would retire for the night.
"Thank you"
Bill Compton was thankful for the gift of life...a life that had chosen to live as human, and now as a vampire. Forever thankful.
April 9, 1835
"That's right honeychile, you doin' good now , jes you keep on pushin'. Dat baby gone soon be here to welcome in dis' new day!"
With an exhausted and weary sigh, Lydia Loudermilk Compton lay back against the sweat soaked pillow, hoping for a brief respite from the hard, painful labor as Aunt Magnolia, the midwife, wiped a cool cloth over her face. Her pains had begun in late afternoon the previous day. She was utterly exhausted. She didn't know how much more strength she had left.
Suddenly, with a fierce urgency, she felt the overwhelming need to push with all that she had. She heard herself scream as she felt her lips curl back and something that came from a hidden place, that place that never makes it's presence known until everything else is gone, came rising up as she felt her child finally and mercifully slip from her exhausted body.
She anxiously waited to hear a cry. There! Yes, she could hear the angry, but strong cries of her child.
"Oh Miz Lydia, you done gone and got yoself a fine, strong boy chile. And jes' you look at all dis' black hair! I do declare, I ain't ever seed such a mess of hair in all my born days!' Aunt Magnolia quickly, yet skillfully, tied off and cut that most precious connection that would forever be a bond between mother and son.
Lydia Compton reached out her arms, hungry for the sight and feel of her newborn son. She gazed down at his tiny face, anxious to meet this wonderful soul who had inhabited her dreams for months. For a moment he just lay there, then he sleeply opened his eyes, squinted against the brillance of the sunshine, and gazed back at her. She smiled. Oh yes, yes. His eyes were Loudermilk blue.
Little William Thomas Compton, named in honor of his father and both grandfathers, was a joy to behold in the eyes of his doting mother as he lay there in her arms, greedily suckling the warm, rich milk from her bosom. She reached out to take a plump hand and pressed it to her lips.
*END OF FLASHBACK*
Bill Compton had remembered that night that his mother had given birth to him, as he re-called her telling him when he was six years old. A happy memory of his that he liked to think about when things got on top of him, forcing the memories of Lilith from his mind. He often remembered his mother, the day that she had died he would take a stroll through the cemetery and go to her grave and every year he would take one single daisy, her favorite to her graveside and he would sit there for hours, just listening too the wind and the wildlife that would emerge. And every year he would sit there in silence and only uttering one word before he would retire for the night.
"Thank you"
Bill Compton was thankful for the gift of life...a life that had chosen to live as human, and now as a vampire. Forever thankful.
