Title - My Soul To Keep

Author - Kajiumei

Genre- Romance/Action

Disclaimer - I do not own The Little Vampire. This applies to all my chapters, but I do own Arabella MacRory and other OC's.

Summary - Arabella moved to Scotland after her father died, and she discovers the existance of vampires. She must find a way to stop them from waging war on all of human kind, and she also falls in love with the leader of the rebellion, Gregory Sackville-Bagg.

A/n - I'm going to be as accurate as in correlation with the movie The Little Vampire, but I'm moving up the age's of the characters, and estimating what I think their age would be so Gregory is 19 and Rudolf is 17... or maybe 16. Important note: Do not mention the fact that my main characters name is very close to Bella from the Twilight series. I just loved the name, so I don't want any comparison to Twilight or mention of it. Please give minimal hate... I am a novice writer, so please be nice. The story starts out a little slow, but if you'll have patience with it, I think it's gonna get pretty good. :3

Chapter 1 - New Life

"Happy Birthday, Dad." I whispered.

The cool Scottish wind seemed to blow my words away across this foreign land. These words were that of a stranger, disappearing as quickly as they came. No significance… No value. How could this be home?

I had been here in Scotland for three months, but the land felt as strange to me as the mother I had never known until Dad passed. He was taken so suddenly from me, a mere four months ago, and drastically changed my life forever. I was taken to Scotland and my Mother I had never met, before I even had enough time to grieve, if overcoming this sorrow was possible.

It was beautiful here… I couldn't deny. Sitting outside on the lush grass gazing into the glowing sky with the sun half hidden beneath the mountains was truly a site that other's would envy. The breeze stirred my long wavy blond hair and gave me a sense of calm within my troubled heart. As I sat in my Mother's small pasture surrounding our tiny cottage, I recalled some of my Dad's previous birthdays. Once I threw him a surprise party, and was clever enough to decorate our apartment with toilet paper streamers and even created a tiny cake using the easy-bake oven I adored. I may have been the only guest at the party, but the two of us had a grand night of watching Disney movies with popcorn and lemonade within the glorious walls of a tent we had crafted in the living room. I was nine then…

My eyes watered and my throat began to ache, rendering me unable to speak as I reminisced a better time. "I should probably get inside…" I thought quickly, pushing thoughts of Dad aside while I climbed to my feet and headed back to the house.

"Good eves Arabella, how was work today?" My Mom smiled from her desk as I entered the cottage. "It was fine." I lied, not returning her gaze and continuing on to the kitchen. Mom wasn't much of a cook, and most of the time she just skipped meals, spending hours at a time working on her novels. She was a famous Scottish author, but something told me her constant fantasy writing had done a number on her brain. She was obsessed with fictional beings, and she spoke in an odd way that wasn't really Scottish… nor anything else I had ever heard before, despite the fact that her entire family had always lived here since the dawn of time. She had messy brunet hair that was wavy like mine, but tied back in a low pony-tail, and brilliant blue eyes that were hidden behind rectangular glasses. "I'm going to get some food, do you want anything?" I called, scanning the kitchen for something edible among the mess. "Not today dear! My mind and soul are intertwined spilling perfect words upon the paper… To stop now would be unspeakable!" She babbled, mumbling more inspiring but intangible words before shifting her focus back to her desk.

I had almost gotten used to her random spiels, but they never failed to entertain me at least. She spoke almost in poetry, and had a gift for focus and words. I'm still debating if she's crazy. I had read a few of her books in my spare time, and was amazed at the emotion and character development. She was a great story-teller, but when it came to reality, she lacked much. She couldn't sense the tension between us… and my secret disdain for her never being in my life until Dad died. I was grateful for the home, but never having a mother throughout my childhood had taken its toll on me. She never saw my distance, and never tried to close the gap… so I never knew what to do.

I started cleaning up the kitchen, which always seemed to be chaotic from the few times mom ever left her desk. I tried to clean when I could, but with school and work, it was rare to have much free time at all. I was grateful for the income my work at the pub gave me, but being constantly busy made it even more difficult to adjust to living here.

After eating some cereal for supper, I got ready for bed and finally settled down in my room, closing the door from where Mom was still working as usual. My room was small, and smelled old like the rest of the house, but it felt like the closest thing to home I had anymore. The walls were filled with assorted posters and pictures from nature to big cities. I loved the modern and the old, and was a history major. This year I attended the nearest college in Scotland, and was a freshman. I planned on going back to the United States after I saved up enough money in order to attend a college there and eventually get a job. Even though I was 18 when Dad died and I could have stayed there and lived on my own using my inheritance, a part of me did want to know my mother… So I decided to come here.

After finishing my homework, I looked over at the clock on my desk reading 11:26, and decided that I should go to bed now so I could wake up for early classes tomorrow. Being strong was hard, but I knew I had to be… It was the only way to survive; I thought and then drifted off to sleep.