Wow...labour was really hard...and especially when I saw the size of the thing that came out of me...Dear God, I wish that on no one!!

Needless to say, Consuela became the heart of my family. Everything revolved around her. My parents, James' parents, Maria, and even Dr.Michael (with whom I had a little old fling...but more on that later...) agreed that though overweight, she was the most beautiful, cherubic baby they had ever seen!! I was, of course, DELIGHTED!! I knew Neil's (and mine) child could never be ugly...but such perfection!!...she really was blessed, Consuela!! Pity she died so young!!

But I don't think I can talk about her death right now....I have to unload the smaller things first... like James' and my mother, Suzanne's death. Should I start with James or Suzanne?

Oh well, let's start with my mother first...she WAS the one who died first!!

My life was bliss with James before she had to come and screw it all up!!

James...AH...James...he was a prince!!...He was the most perfect man I had formed an alliance with (excluding Neil Patrick, of course!!). He was my best friend, lover, confidante and the step-father of my child....He had given me everything when I had nothing and I owed it to him to be a good wife and not kill him..but like I've said so many times before, life isn't always fair...

It was the night of 16 July 1809. I remember the date distinctly because the next day I found out that I was pregnant with James' son...but let's get to that later.

So, 16 July...it was evening time and the three of us were just about to retire to bed. Little Consuela was already asleep in James' arms, and he was about to tuck her in bed, when there was a loud "RAP RAP RAP" outside. Both of us were startled...here it was, 8 in the night, and someone had come knocking at out doorstep (of course these days if someone comes to meet someone, it's rude to go BEFORE 8, but those were those days...I mean, when did you think that "night" *wink* chocolate "After Eight" was invented??

Anyway, it was after eight and there was a knock on the door...of course, we weren't expecting anyone so it was kind of startling. I told James to go and check who was at the door at this hour, when we should've been ...ahem...canoodling...

So, James went to check out who cam calling at this hour. Turns out, it was Micheal.

Yes the same Micheal who gave birth to Consuela. He came in and sat down, shivering from the rain and cold outside.

"I regret to inform you but your mother , the delightful Mrs. Suzanne Thomas has taken ill.

"What? what happened to Mother? She was completely fine when I paid her a visit with Consuela the other day!", I said.

"Well, she was fine until about 6 this evening. Then, suddenly she started having stomach pains and spasms. Your father rushed her to the Rosita Gerald Hospital, where she was immediately attended to by our two specialists, Dr. Alexander Pinto and Dr. Scott Valenzio. They were able to stabilise her condition for a little while, but then then she went from bad to worse not half an hour ago. They haven't been able to find out what was wrong with her but she is continuously getting worse. Your father has sent for you to be with him and the rest of the family in this troubled time just in case something happens. It would bode well if we hurried right away!!"

James immediately shot up with,"what are we waiting for? Let's go!!"

So we went. I wish now that we hadn't.

For if we hadn't, Suzanne and Alexander wouldn't have died at my hands.

Ah...those two died happily...in each others arms....

To know why, I'll have to take you back to 1777, the year I was born. It was July, just before I had been born. My mother, that bitch, Suzanne, was in the hospital, waiting for my awesome arrival. She was well..."bored" and really wanted something to..."do"...

She looked around for my father but he had gone out on an urgent errand. She tried to wait until he came back to inform him of her little "problem" but by then she was getting too restless.

Who else would walk into her room then, but our young, dashing physician Alexander Pinto, coming to check on her? Needless to say, one thing led to another and well..events transpired...

Apparently, since then he and my mother would meet up and "do" things...

Now, I didn't know about their little affair till the day I killed them, so you can imagine my surprise when I ran to my mother's room and found the now elderly Dr. Alexander with her, her almost screaming out "Alllliiiiiiiiiiii" due to his expert treatment....

To say I went into a rage would be an understatement. I took the nearest, sharpest thing I could find, which sadly, turned out to be a stray knife left by one of those stupid, muddle-headed nurses. I took the knife and plunged it as hard as i could into the twisted mass of bodies that made up my mother and the doctor.

The next thing I remember, is BLOOD.

So, I was twenty seven, single and pregnant.

My God, pregnant.

Completely pregnant.

Hurrah!

I knew that society would not accept a bastard...but, oh, what the hell! I knew that my child would turn out to be really cute...you kow, because he was Neil's child...so, I didn't really mind adding on to the population of the world . My parents were so freaked out! I may not have mentioned it but I think it's pretty obvious that I have an obsession with freaking people out. I don't know what it is...I suppose it's just the way people look at me, like, "Okayyyy......she is weird."

I liked freaking those people out especially because they were so clever...realising the fact that I am weird only after I freaked them out...

So, those nine months were...awes-ful...those mornings of projectile vomiting...those evenings of thinking about the child's father, hoping for that sinful feeling of lust at his mere thought to move away from me as it dragged fire through my body...those nights of waiting....and those moments of bliss when I would realise that I had, in effect, a human baby inside me, as I nourished it with the little love I could. That's right; I have feelings, too!

So, I lived my life as best I could, what with all the society drama I had to go through. I couldn't attend Lord James' Annual Ball and I hated that. You know how people have favourite outings, concerts and stuff like that, my favourite night of the year used to be Lord James' ball. He was this thirty year old, really cute Lord of Montfort and he would have this string quartet organised for any couple engaged to be married. That year, Neil and I had decided that we would announce our engagement, freak our respective parents out and then dance to the music of the string quartet and win at the couple game. The couple game was this thing...it was not official but we knew that all the couples had it going. You know, the which-couple-is-hotter thing. We all go through it. Of course, I went through it for more than my share and needless to say, I absolutely loved it! So, anyway, Lord James would have this string quartet organised and Neil and I would day dream about being part of the dancing team. This year, of course, he chose to die. So, we couldn't dance. And because of the whole being-pregnant thing, I couldn't go to the ball either because of the whole bastard thing I mentioned before. Because they didn't want to face the people and tell them that I was pregnant, what with my suddenly, slightly jutting out belly and unnatural glow, my parents decided not to take me. They left me alone and all I got to do was pregnant stuff while they went and danced all night. It was elegant dancing, too! I was so sad, I resolved not to write to Lord James about how sorry I was for not being able to attend his ball. Then they would have to answer him and they wouldn't be able to lie because...well, why would they? They are horrible at it.

So, I did just that. I didn't write to him.

Little did I know that the opposite would happen.

He didn't ask them why I couldn't come. He came home directly to ask me why I didn't.

'Miss Hemendip', he bowed. 'How do you do?''
How do you do, Lord James? Why, I had hardly expected you at this hour. The ball-
'The ball is incomplete without you, Ms. Hemendip.
''I beg your pardon?''
I do not see why you would choose not to grace our humble abode with your presence.
''Lord James...I cannot explain why. It is beyond my reach...I am under great stress, Lord James.
''What could possibly bother you, Zxy?'

At first, I was shocked to hear him call me "Zxy". Then the reason of my shock changed when he took me by my hand instead. Now, even as a Lord, you are not authorised to take the daughter of a Count by the hand. You would freak the daughter out even if she was aroused in a bitterly sweet way.

'I...cannot lie to you, Lord James.'
'Then, don't.'
'It's difficult.'
'I will make it all easy for you', he brushed my lower lip and before I knew it, he pressed his lips against mine.
'You seem so taken aback, Zxy', he whispered huskily. 'You cannot tell me that you hadn't expected this from me. I am sure you recollect how I would wait for just a glimpse of you back in our childhood days. That never stopped.'

Now, I was taken aback. He was strange. I had no clue about the one-glimpse thing.

'I don't know what to say, James. You...you leave me speechless.'
'Don't say anything. And I am aware of the situation you are in.'
'Are you, now?'
He nodded and carressed my belly lightly, fidgeting with the knot that held my dress in place.

What followed is...rated R. If I write about it, I am sure to make eyebrows raise even higher. Just remember that by the end of his meeting, I was scared that I may get pregnant again.

So, that was what happened that night. But we soon developed really strong feelings for each other and he looked really hot; so, marriage was inevitable. My child was no longer a bastard and it was on 17 July, 1805, that my beautiful little baby girl, Consuela was born. Yes, but it wasn't as easy as writing about it. No man can go through it and still survive. They could die. And they would die.

It was at seven in the night, right after dinner, that I had this really weird feeling. A weird sound followed and a weird pool of water was formed on the floor. I was freaked out. What would you do if you get up from the table and this pool just flows out of nowhere?

So, I looked up at James and he went in his sing song voice-'Are you quite alright, Zxy?'

'I don't know, James-ugh!' It was the weirdest sound I had ever made.

'Maria!' he called out to the attendant. 'Summon Dr. Michael, quick!'I was taken to our bedroom and we waited for that flimsy doctor to come. Within five hours of constant screaming, contractions and annoying pushing, my beautiful little baby girl, Consuela Wilkinson was . She was heavy, though; 7 pounds. Over time, she lost weight. But that was far ahead in the future.

In the second half of the first quarter of my life.

After that fateful day, I kind of broke down when I realised that Neil would not be around me anymore. I had loved him with so much passion, so much devotion and such lust! If only he could have seen it...he was just so gentle and soft...and not in a sissy way! No, not at all...he was like a warrior coming home after months of war, finally finding his lover, sweeping her off her feet..ah, those times were great!

Ugh, stupid Amanda!

I tried to make my peace with the fact that Neil's essence would not make my day anymore, that his sound would not bring me to the world where only Neil and I resided. I didn't fret, I didn't cry. Well, except for that one day of howling I did when he died but that's a different story....it was kind of dampened by my annoyance at his killing himself.

I thought that I was doing well on the whole getting-over-Neil-Patrick thing till a week after his funeral. I was asleep when I had this really weird feeling, one that I only had on long journeys that made me nauseous. I woke up and as a reflex, ran to the bathroom...only to throw up. I paid no attention to it since just the previous day, my father had invited his friend from Pakistan and the cooks had been instructed to prepare traditional Pakistani food. That had been unsuitable for my digestion and hence, the throwing up was justified. But that didnt explain the four subsequent throwing up sessions I had. So, I finally gave in and called a physician home, swearing him to secrecy about whatever happened between us.

It was true. I was, in fact, pregnant with Neil's child.And I didn't know what to do about it.

I know that now it's not a big deal. US and UK have the largest number of teenage and single woman pregnancies. But back then, it was pretty grave, having your own child without a father. Neil and I had been secretive because my mum and dad would have freaked out had they known that I was in love with one of the men of the rival counties. Neil was the Count of Kent and York hated Kent. So, my parents hated Kent, too. The only person who knew about us was Amanda (May she never rest in peace).

So, I was blank.

I was twenty seven, single and pregnant.

I think hearing that dull "thud, thud" of the axe was the defining moment of my life.



I guess that was when my destiny as a aging cold-blooded murderer was written.




It was the happiest day of my life, for that bitch, Amanda, was dead, but it was also the saddest, because I understood that night, that Neil would never again be mine. Far from it. As i'd said before, he had become mentally deranged after seeing Amanda's death (I won't say murder, for only INNOCENT people are murdered, not bitches like her).




At first I tried to sort it out myself. Only later would i know that that was my ONE (and only, because , let's face it, I'm awesome!!) mistake. I tried to shower him with so much love that he would forget all about what happened that fateful night. But even though I gave it all I had, I couldn't erase the mark that that night had left on him. He was broken...forever!!



Our courtship sustained for a few months, a few, unsatisfied, unsatisfying months. We tried to pretend that everything was fine, nothing had changed, but it all came to a standstill on the second fateful night of my life.



7th July 1804.



The night of my 27th birthday.



The night I was supposed to wed the love of my life, Neil Patrick.



The night that was supposed to be the best night of my life.



The night that became one of the worst nights ever.



The night Neil killed himself.



Everything was going on as per the schedule I had drawn up for my special day. The Chapel looked pretty, decorated with hundreds of thousands of orchids and lilies, a gigantic chandelier swaying above the altar, bringing a sweet, yet somehow seductive glow to the entire room. Candles, everywhere I looked, making me look even prettier than I was in the hundreds of mirrors that adorned the walls of the great hall. I had requested my father for French cuisine to be served in the reception hall a few yards away from the Chapel, and at that time I could smell the baguettes and buttery, sugary, succulent pastries wafting their mouth-watering aroma everywhere. It took all of my will-power to not go and stuff myself with that food.

A good thing, actually, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to fit into my first (of many to come) wedding dress!

Oh my God, that gown was the most beautiful and exqusite thing I've ever seen!!

It was white, obviously, with every SINGLE inch of it covered in glitter and diamonds. It had a plunging neckline, off-shoulder, fitted sleeves, a corset and then a flowy mass (yes, I was ahead of fashion at that time too), a LONG trail, a matching pair of dainty sandals and the most BEAUTIFUL veil. The veil framed my face like a princess's, softening my features so I looked like I was an angel in heaven, floating around Earth in my awesome gown.

Ah! I completely forgot to mention the chocolate fountain in the middle of the reception hall! Chocolate was still a new concept then and my wedding was one the first ones to have a chocolate FOUNTAIN. Now that I think about it, that really was a fairy-tale wedding!



If only Neil hadn't decided to kill himself that particular day....



You want to know what happened? What went wrong?



Fine, I'll tell you.



Amanda was what went wrong. She had to get herself killed in such a violent manner didn't she? If only she had left Neil alone.....



He wouldn't have had to witness her death, he wouldn't have gone senile and he wouldn't have killed himself.



People blamed me for his death. They said that if I hadn't said what I did, he might probably be alive today (okay, so not TODAY, but you know what I mean!!).



I didn't agree with these people. All I had said was, "Now nothing can separate us. We'll be together forever!! You'll be mine forever. No can take you away from me. You'll only belong to me, me, ME!!"

I don't think what I said should've sent him over the edge, but that's what the people at the mental health facility who examined me said. My therapist bluntly told me that I was solely responsible for his death. Personally, I felt it was just....umm...."cold feet", nothing more, nothing less. I don't think that was enough to warrant him slitting his own neck!

I felt really sad that he was gone (more on that later) but I DEFINITELY didn't feel responsible for his death. In fact, it gave me a chance to try out other young bachelors in town. I mean, I was, of course the Princess of York now that my father was a Duke!!

Though I'm sure you'll all agree that it really was stupid of Neil to kill himself (like I said, the sadness came only later).

Anyway, to each his own. While he was off killing himself, I was revelling in the glory of my wedding day.

Ofcourse, I didn't get married that day, but whoever said life was perfect?

Alas, my bloodlust wasn't over.

Samantha wasn't my only victim on that fateful day, though she was the one who died peacefully.... the dark, murky waters of the sea left her breathless in less than a minute...I know because she told me that in the afterlife(remember how I mentioned that I died twice??). She didn't want her Earthly body anyway, and told me so when I met her...she mentioned that she was thinking about ending her life anyway. That was the reason for her joining us on my birthday. She was a bitch, sure, but inside, she was just a sad little girl.

In fact,I feel bad for her sometimes, even though she ruined my birthday.

Anyway, no time to spare...I have 200 years' worth of stories to tell you and it ain't gonna finish at this speed.

So, onto Amanda, my next victim.

Sweet, bubbly, cheerful Amanda.

Always caring, confident, sunny Amanda.

My SISTER, Amanda.

What did she do to me, you ask?

Well, she didn't do anything to me...she actually did something to my lover, Nathaniel Patrick. To be more precise, she did HIM. She was a TRUE bitch, and she deserved to die with every bit of pain that i projected to her body, while Neil watched from afar, scared.

Scared, so scared, of me that he eventually killed himself. In his suicide letter, he wrote that he was scared that I was "coming for him" and that I was "metally deranged" (whatever that meant). But you don't believe that do you? I may be evil, but that doesn't mean you think such nasty things about me.

Back to Amanda.

We had been very close when we were little. We would share everything, from dolls to clothes, to books to friends. I guess, somewhere along the line, she figured (VERY wrongly, as it turns out...unlucky for you, BITCH!!) that she could share my lover too.

Yeah well, turns out, I wasn't that generous.

So when I found out (through Samantha, of all people!!) that she was making love to my darling Neil Patrick, I got angry, so very, very angry!!

I got a pick-axe from the captain's quarters and made my way to the corner of the deck where Samantha had seen them "canoodling".

When i saw them, I slapped both of them across the face, realising only later that Neil ( <3 ) wasn't there of his own accord. He had been tricked into going along with her to the deck.

I wasn't done with Amanda, though.

When Samantha had first told me about Amanda taking Neil to the deck, I had brushed it off. Then, when we had our fight, and she fell in to the water, her last words to me had been, "I wasn't lying!". At that time, I had hated to think that she knew and believed such a horrid thing about my sister, but then i decided to check it out for myself. With a pick-axe.

Continuing the story...

You know how you think that you have everything in place and that nothing can ruin all the happiness you have? Yeah, well; sorry to burst your bubble but that does not happen. Think of a crime that you do. You wipe out all evidence from the site. You know that nothing can get you caught. But then you realise that you left a very, very important clue and then going, "Oh, no..." will not help you. The same was the case on my twenty-sixth birthday. Oh, how I wish that bitch Samantha hadn't joined me, my family and my lover on my private yacht to Cannes. Everything would have been perfect without that hag.

So, I was on my yacht, casually sipping my wine when that woman, Samantha, walked over to me and said, 'I am so glad that you decided to choose this very yacht to mark the celebration of your day, Ms. Hemendip. Your great-grandfather had gifted it to your father on the day you were born. Had he been alive, he would have been so proud.'
'Yes, well; I am grateful that you could grace the occasion with your presence.'
'Ah, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Hemendip', she smiled.
'And I am also sure that my late great grandfather, the former Count of Richmond is smiling up at us at this very moment.'
'Looking up, my dear?' Samantha was obviously confused. See, she was never really fast.
'Yes, Ms. Parker', I nodded. 'Looking up...from hell.'
'From hell? How dare you speak of your great-grandfather, the former Count of Richmond, with such harsh words?!'
'That is quite alright, Ms. Parker. He was a priceless man and I am sure we feel his absence greatly but to not think of him as a resident of hell would be silliness. Surely, everybody knows that he went to hell.'
'Zxy!'
'Ms. Hemendip to you, if you please, Ms. Parker!'
'I will not give you the respect you suppose you deserve!' she said and unbelievable as it sounds, she gave me a push and I almost fell flat. So, I grew iffy and pushed her, too. A bit too much.
'Oh, no...' I said as she gasped and fell straight...into the water.

So, not much happened on my birthday...I just killed another human being.

The first quarter of my long journey

They say life is not a bed of roses....they? People, of course. People. people, people...people are just so opinionated. Why can they not let everyone be in their own worlds where nothing can haunt them as dismally as people themselves? Well, all of that is a matter of concern for all those who actually suffer. I was...well, I was awesome! I had all I ever wanted! I had a mansion for a home (given the fact that my father was the Count of York, thank you very much:)), I had heaps and piles of currency and none of the Dollar crap; I had pure, powerful Pounds. And to top it all, I had the perfect lover, too;)
I had fun in the first quarter of my journey till I completed half of that quarter. To date, I rue the day I turned twenty six....but, more on that later!