We proceed to load our cannon, with me fulfilling my duties and ramming first the powder, then the ball. At around our fifth volley, the first explosion happens just yards behind me, snapping a mighty pine. The union artillery has decided to join the battle. For the next several hours the roar of cannon fire is deafening to the ears. With only the surrounding screams of nearby comrades using their last breaths, we are ordered to split into two groups with five of our big guns aimed toward the battle below, the remainder aimed toward the enemy cannons. This exchange carries on for what seems an eternity. The sound of screams, the smell of blood, and the visions of carnage are the themes of the day.

           I never see it but the whoosh is undeniable and I hit the ground just as a brighter, more deadly explosion rains upon us. We have been hit. I never really feel the pain as much as I feel the agony my friends are enduring next to me. Of course, I have always been able to do that. I feel others emotions like anger, hate, sadness, happiness, agony and joy. Over time I have even become able to taste them. But as I lay there, not feeling my leg, I begin to smile. When they come to retrieve me I hear a voice say, “You’re done boy. You’re going home, and as a war hero no less.”  I begin to smile even more, but not at the thought of being a war hero for that is the last thing I want.  I am smiling at the word “home”. I am smiling that I finally know there will be a tomorrow; one spent waking in her arms.

           As I leave the field hospital, where I learned they had to take my leg, I feel that familiar twitch and I smile again. As the captain officially gives me my papers to leave, my smile grows wider. I hobble onto the back of the wagon I think of how it will be just a few more days and I’ll be home to her. The wagon heads down that deep rutted trail and my smile becomes a giggle. As the wagon clears the horizon, I become a willing victim to joyous laughter.

          You see, real vampires, or at least those who believe in an immortal soul can remember and relive their pasts. For some, it is a pleasant experience. But don’t let the brief glimpses I’ve given you fool you into thinking it is all roses. For I, as well as every other person, have had my share of downs as well as ups. The ups we cherish, the downs we use as a tough lesson learned. But “our” pasts they are, and therefore a part of what make up those vampires within this belief. As I’ve said, the world is ever evolving, ever changing, into what though is still open. All I know is that, regardless of what happens, my immortal soul will be there to experience the new birth of a new civilization. Just as I, as countless others have through out eons of time, have come to accept our fate and our rebirth into the world. I can only speak for myself when I view the future. Countless others because of their past, however accepting of their fate they may be, do not look forward to it, whereas I have come to embrace it with the thought of being with my twin flame yet again. With that thought I begin to smile.