A/N: This is a new story that I am dying to write! For those of you who may already read my work, I am putting "Chained Freedom" on hold until this story and Roswell That Ends Well are done. Please R&R. No Flames. This is just the PROLOGUE. Thanks./

Why, hello there mortal reader. I am certain that you recognize my existence as Kasey, immortal daughter of Amos and devoted lover to Roswell. If you are not familiar, let me convey to you that I am a very complex individual, a vampire of concealed emotion. Of course, this demonstrates that I do not have the open will to display my heart's content. Unless, by chance, I am spilling out the forbidden secrets of my heart and soul to you. I prefer to appear numb and emotionless overall, though in truth I do feel more than the average mortal might. I was seventeen when I died, hence, was transformed into what I am now. And so where nearly any and every mortal believes that I am but a human teenager, this is an illusion. I am much older than this, much older than you.

To be honest, it shocks me of how incorrect humans are when it comes to us vampires. They believe our deaths can be accounted for due to the most absurd causes. For example, there is a misconception that a wooden stake driven mercilessly through our immortal hearts can destroy us. This is false, false in ways you cannot even imagine. A stake through the heart, though it may cause excruciating pain, cannot kill us. I've yet to see it occur. Garlic is another superstition that has no significance. Nor does the mad belief that mirrors can distinguish who is truly a "blood thirsty" vampire from those who are mortal. In fact, Amos is undead proof that this is a lie, foolish. He spends quite some time admiring himself in the mirror upon his dresser each night. I would be almost convinced that by now he would grow weary of the same old reflection, night in and night out, the same, same, same for hundreds of years. I know I have. But I suppose I mainly brought up this point to warn you that the story to follow may have points that do not add up to the degrading books and movies you often read. I raise my left hand and swear allegiance to this statement.

And now I heed a quick warning to you; mortals are not permitted to be aware of our immortal existence. When I confess "our", I of course am referring to vampires, the immortals. So I shall explain this instant that you are already abiding danger, and might I admit that you very well may be on the vengeful list of a vampire gone mad who knows that you have been told of our secret existence, our life in the shadows. If you dare to read on, just know now that I shall not be held responsible for the safety of your lives.

But in all honesty, this story is not one of me. Not directly, anyway. This is a story of my darling Gina, not only a vampire, but a vampire child. She held a great influence on my eternal life, and I feel that I owe it to her to at least let her existence be known, her lessons be shared, her story be told. And now, "without further adieu", as you mortals often say, I present to you the story of Gina, the vampire child, my immortal daughter...