Eva had always been skeptical of supernatural stories. Her mother used to tell her all sorts of tales about witches, ghosts, and vampires, but Eva never believed any of them. To her, they were just stories people told to scare each other.
One day, when Eva was just 15 years old, her mother sat her down and told her a story about vampires. It was a story her mother had heard from her own grandmother, who claimed to have encountered a real vampire.
As her mother began the story, Eva rolled her eyes and sighed. She didn't want to listen to another one of her mother's made-up stories. But as her mother continued, Eva found herself getting drawn in. The story was about a young woman who fell in love with a vampire and the consequences of that love.
"Your grandmother used to tell me this story," her mother began, her voice soft and hypnotic. "She said that when she was a young woman, she met a vampire. He was unlike any other she had ever encountered. He was kind and gentle, and he didn't thirst for blood like the others."
Eva's eyes widened as she listened intently. Vampires weren't real, she knew that, but her mother's voice was so convincing that she found herself getting lost in the story.
"Eva, vampires are real," her mother said, as she finished the story. "They may not be like the ones you see in movies, but they exist."
Eva shook her head in disbelief. "That's just a story, Mom. Vampires aren't real."
Her mother sighed. "Believe what you want, Eva. But just remember, sometimes the things we don't believe in can still come back to bite us."
"Your grandmother and the vampire fell in love," her mother continued. "But their love was not meant to be. The vampire was cursed, and he knew that if he stayed with your grandmother, she would be in danger. So he left her, never to return."
Eva's heart ached for her grandmother as her mother finished the story. "But how do you know it's true?" she asked skeptically. "Vampires don't exist."
Her mother smiled gently. "It's just a story, Eva. But sometimes, stories have a way of teaching us about life and love."
Eva shook her head. "I don't believe it. It's just a silly story. You know mother, it's just fairy tales"
Her mother's smile faltered slightly, but she didn't press the matter. Instead, she changed the subject. "Have you finished your homework?"
As Eva got up to fetch her backpack, she couldn't help but feel like there was something her mother wasn't telling her. She had always been a good storyteller, but this one had felt different, more personal.
Later that night, Eva lay in bed, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to the story than her mother had let on. She tossed and turned, her mind racing with questions.
Finally, she got up and crept downstairs. Her mother was sitting on the couch, reading a book. When she saw Eva, she smiled warmly. "What's the matter, sweetie?"
Eva hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "Mom, can I ask you something? It's bothering me"
"Of course," her mother said, setting down her book.
"Is that story about the vampire and grandma true?" Eva asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her mother sighed. "No, Ava. It's not true. Your grandmother never met a vampire. But she did meet someone who she loved deeply, and who she had to let go." Eva's mother said
Eva's mother lied to Eva that the story she told about vampire is not true so that Ava don't mind it anymore. But Eva's mother is telling the truth behind about her story
Eva furrowed her brow. "Who was it?"
Her mother hesitated, and Eva could tell that whatever she was about to say was going to be difficult for her. "It was your grandfather," she said finally. "He died when your mother was very young."
Eva's heart sank. She had never known her grandfather, but she knew how much he had meant to her mother. "I'm sorry, Mom," she said softly.
Her mother smiled sadly. "It's okay, sweetie. We all have our losses. But we also have our memories, and our stories. They keep our loved ones alive in our hearts."
Eva nodded, feeling a sense of understanding wash over her. The story her mother had told her may not have been true, but it had still taught her something valuable about life and love.
As she climbed back into bed, Eva thought about her grandfather and the love he had shared with her grandmother. And she knew that, even though he was gone, his memory would live on in the stories her mother and grandmother had passed down to her.