Sitting alone in her appartment she wondered why she was here, why she hadn't ended this unlife of hers if she hated it as much as she truely felt she did. Every sleep was interupted with nightmares, every waking moment spent pretending to be something besides herself - what was the point? Blood-lust constantly gnawed at her insides, urging her to kill, to drink and feed - Yet, she fought it. She had spent the past century fighting off the cravings and somehow, through it all had managed to keep her sanity - Something few Vampires could claim after years of not giving in to that always present urge to kill. So, as weak as Annaliese thought herself, perhaps in the larger scheme of things she wasn't so fraigle, she wasn't as passive as even she had thought.