The Journals of Barnabas Collins

With the aid of Good Ben Stokes, I attempted to see Sarah once more, and this time she did not hide.  In her sick-bed, as she grew as cold as I, she held me and told me that she would love me forever.

I do believe that it is the last time I shall ever hear those words.  And without her in my life to say them, what else matters?  When I would vow to fight for the Collins family, I now realize that my vow was for her, the best of us all.  I will never be worthy of your love, dearest sister.

My dearest love.  And in death, she finds rest and in death, I am cursed to live.

Live?  What a mockery I make of that word. I am dead, and nothing lives except the hatred inside me.

View original post


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: