Matthew Torrent walked into the sparse apartment room. It was just that, a room and not much else. No mark of him was left about the place, no pictures or decor. He hadn’t had a home since the day he was forced to leave his wife, Elena, and his little girl, Bethany.

He could hear all the usual nighttime noises, and the people below. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he be free to live the life he wanted? He had hoped that he would have the chance to live a human life forever.

 To sit and sift through pictures,

each its own clear memory,

to laugh over one,

cry for another;

Beloved faces gone till eternity.

To recall long past birthdays,

painful, without rejoicing.

from one year to another

a quiet, gentle turning,

far better to leave those in Memory.

To walk through the rooms,

in which one grew up.

Remembering the good,

pushing behind the bad,

so little remains - sad but true.

The new things stick out,

they don't belong.

 **Due to my neglecting to post, it might be a good idea to go back and read Parts 1 and 2 before reading this one. ;)**

-

A new chapter, and it's not even Christmas! I bet you feel special.

In all seriousness, today is a special day - my four-year anniversary of joining ApricotPie, and the first anniversary of James saving the site and becoming editor. You will never know what all this means to me.

Momma, Momma

Don't leave again

I don't want to see you away

Momma, Momma

Kiss me gently

Sing to me, and pray

Momma, Momma

Leave me be

Let me soar with flying wings

But Momma, Momma

Sigh, oh sigh

You forgot me

And Momma, Momma

My eyes are dry

Can you believe that?

So, Momma, Momma

I don't cry

Not for you, again

Yes, Momma, Momma

I won't cry

Not for you, again

...

Kindred was separated from kindred, and although Vúnyeðel found comfort in Shereynah his wife, he missed his brother Durfil who had left in pursuit of Ordéash.  He worried for him as well, and feared what might befall him.  He decided to set out after him, taking Shereynah with him.  After making another boat, they sailed to all the islands that he and Durfil had explored years before, and found traces of his passing: places where he had beached his boat, and footprints where he had walked.  They also found evidence of the passing of another being: rocks broken in h

When I was younger, there was a vampire
his red eyes could see through walls
he had long fangs and ink-black hair
and we locked him up in the hall.

Then I got older, and I didn't believe
in vampires anymore
but I still saw bloodshot eyes
watching me from behind closed doors.

One day he said, "what a pretty thing
you are, and would be for a feast..."

I, the seventh child, born on a Saturday,
instead chose to kill the beast.

 Here it is, my addition for the fall prompt! I think I managed to get everything in in one way or another, and this is one more in the Victorious series. This and Peace Victorious and the soon-coming Mercy Victorious and being-planned Grace Victorious MAY eventually be expanded. Note the "may" and "eventually." 
This is somewhat similar to a short story I wrote a while ago called "Coming Home."