Big Decisions

Relationships between my mother and I continue to deteriorate whilst I am visiting Volterra. My absence from home is causing her great pain I know. And the last thing I want is to tear at the heart of the one who rescued me.

I am torn, between great friends and admiration for the Volturi, with a homeland and mother who kept me repressed and hid me in safety for so many years. Help, me....Let me sing...

I must leave Italy, there is that one last dark secret that I must confront. I dare not tell anyone. I cannot, must not, leave this any longer. I must go into danger head on and hope, to God, that I make it back in one piece.

Drama...........

Would things have really been so different
Would the world really have been so shaken
If when I were a much younger
I had chosen the road not taken

Would the days have been any the brighter
Or the nights darker than they are
Would I still have lived in such obscurity
Or shined brighter than any star

It does little good to wonder Of things
that might have been
For who, and what I have become
I must live with in the end


Though life could have been much better
All in all I do not feel forsaken
I count the blessings that I have
And cry not of the road not taken



My head is spinning! It's not an altogether unpleasant feeling, but nonetheless I find it difficult to concentrate. There is so much going on in Italy, and my little head cannot fully grasp or savour all of what is going on around me. So many intricate relationships, so many arguments. I will have to become accustomed to the speed of life here. I played on the harp for hours on end the evening before, playing the welsh songs and calming myself down listening to the familiar thrum of the string against my finger.

For the first time since leaving home, I am confident that this road was right for me. I am enjoying my new skin, and have learnt to fight. I have also learnt a very important lesson. I dare not speak it even to my own heart.

Drama, melodrama, arguments, fighting and making up again. Italians are passionate, resolved and confusing!

My Irish sister has been in the middle of most of the tumult, her and Felix. We have an agreement, I don't understand him, he doesn't understand me, all good there. All I can do is be here for her when she needs me as a good friend should be. Her life is her own and she has her own roads to follow. I know that she will probably break some hearts on the way, I just hope they are not her families. At least I have my first credit card to keep me happy from trouble, that and my new Bugatti.....

I'm all partied out and yet I continue, and am getting to know myself more each day. F1 weekend this weekend should be very forthcoming

When in Rome....Well Volturri

I arrived in Italy shortly after ten in the morning. The sun was beating down and having had a flight full of glorious smelling humans, in a seat next door to a surfer who could not stop saying the word "dude" (what an earth is a dude anyway?), I felt the familiar tight knot in my stomach. Having quickly put on my helmet and collect my bike I made way for the Villa deep in the Tuscan hills, a tucked away reclusive spot, breathtakingly beautiful and so different to my own home. My nervousness quickly dissipated with the ease of our hostess, Ren. How one person can exude such warmth and hospitality is quite beyond me, I watched in awe as Corin and Mary spoke in whispers on the couch, San played teasingly with Ren's hair in the lounge room. I automatically felt part of the family. Before I knew it I was staying for the Summer. I was glad Siobhan and Maggie had arrived before me, I sensed straight away that Maggie needed to talk, so we made our excuses and headed to the music room to the harp I had sent on. Oh, and we talked about everything and nothing, loosing hours. Donna joined us later and talking to the shy, yet self assured rebel put me strangely at ease. As soon as Scarlett arrived, then we knew there would be trouble! So strange to me who before now had been reclusive and untrusting to be comfortable in the tumult of Italy!

Saturday evening was extremely entertaining. We raced. Firstly we had a car race, Santiago, Renata, Siobhan and Corin and their multi million pound collection of cars. Fascinated I watched as the cars flew into action around me, thrilling me, adrenalin coursing through me in the first time in what seems like an eon. Renata won, which cost me my college fund, I had bet on Siobhan. Now penniless, my nerves were ten fold! We were up next.

I had met the mysterious Felix once before but was unsure of how to take him. He's monosyllabic, but something about him makes me smile, mostly because he makes Maggie come alive. Maggie, Felix and I raced on our bikes. I must say I did cheat a little, a man cannot help but be distracted from a girl in a good fitting pair of Versace's. I'm sure he felt quite uncomfortable between Maggie and I. Thankfully I won, ending the race with more money than I had ever seen in my lifetime. Gladly, Santiago and I went on the hunt for a car with a portion of it. He is adamant that I am not allowed to see his choice until he is ready to unveil it. I just hope that it's not pink and not a porsche!

The Easter egg hunt was intriguing, organised by the Athendora, the wife of the elder Caius, as many questions have been raised in my head since arriving in Italy. I feel at home here, three days, I know what lunacy! Do I join the guard? Should I even contemplate it and break the heart of my mother? I talked at length to Corin who allowed me to patrol the borders with him last night.I shall take my time, and enjoy it. Shame there were no chocolate covered rugby players hidden in Volterra.....I was quite hungry.

Leaving Home.........

I know God forgave me long ago,
but I still feel some need for absolution.
To pry my clenched fists from the torments of the past
and lay each palm open to what I hunger for
and fear I may never see again.

I am outcast from my own heart.
I cannot hear the voices
that would guide my return.
I cannot see the hand
that holds the key

It has been a week of great anticipation, and great sadness. To be truthful, leaving Wales for the Tuscan village has shaken me more than I realised. I looked out of the window ar the break of dawn, watching the sun creep slowly over the cragged edges of the grey, still and silent mountains. Listening to the birds singing their chorus to the dawn. I felt more like lamenting. As I took that first cold breath into my long dead lungs, I wanted it to envelope me, to choke any humanity out of what is left of my shell. Yes, it was hard to say goodbye, to a place which has been my life for almost a century. Difficult to leave a family who know my quirks, and accept and love me for all that I am. I know that it may be a while before I return to these mountains, to the clear running streams which thrum through their valleys, to the music and pasture of the wild untamed heaths.

My destination? Straight to the heart of the family my mother has warned me about since I was a child. I go to Volterra, to a family so different to my own, so diverse, electric in every way. It's a short flight, two and a half hours, but it's a world of sophistication, satire and freedom, yes I hope to find some freedom. One of Aro's guard, Renata has kindly invited us to stay at her Villa. We are to participate in a street race, and a hunt (the Easter egg variety) on the Sunday. There are a handful of us younger girls gathering this weekend and it will be nice to spend some time getting to know them better. Scarlett Dane is the Cullen's replacement forger I think that she will be my advocate in mischief. Donna is a soulful Southern American who has fled from the clutches of her "family" who were overpowering of her, and finally Maggie my Irish sister at arms. I look forward to meeting the gypsy musician Mary and of course guard Corin who's love affair made us quite week at the knees over the past few weeks. It's all about love in Italy, Renata finally yielding to Santi, Mary and Corin, I am almost sure that Maggie will find a mate. If Italy is indeed the land of love, then with three Single girls in town can the Volturi guard really withstand such an onslaught?

As I sit now on the Early flight, I also feel a change within myself. I've managed to sit on the plain in a reasonable fashion, my bike safely in the storehold. I feel some apprehension of things to come and know that this visit signifies a change, either for the good or bad. And I have to question why, after all this time, do I need to subject myself to change. Do I need to be different? Am I not accepted now? Am I a silly young girl, the class clown who makes everyone laugh? Or can I be perhaps more complicated than the facade everyone around me sees. Only time will tell.

Friends, Celts, and everone else

A country of mountains and valesOf daffodils,
rugby and song
A country of coal mines and dragons
And a people whose spirit is strong.
A country of hills and valleysOf land so rich and green
Of Eisteddfods, poets and bards
And a people whose pride can be seen.
A country of warriors and heroes
A tapestry of legends and tales
An oppressed people’s fight for freedom


This is my country, this is my Wales

You guessed that my "Welshness" is important to me right? I speak Welsh, I think Welsh and I am very proud of my heritage. It's a Celtic thing, I love the Scottish and the Irish and the reamianing peoples of Cornwall. All things have their drawbacks though and I find myself somwhat "old fashioned" in some of my ways. Oh not of the dress sense variety, or the fact that I can party my little size 2's Jimmy choo's. Oh, no just in the ways of the world.

Our coven of Four have settled in the Welsh hills for years, our home is reclusive. "The Bell House" was built as a watchtower on the old Road between North and South Wales, to guard for highwaymen. My adoptive family have now owned the property for the last 25 years, and are 30 miles from the nearest village. Good for hunting, not good for a social life. My elder brother loves the area, he was first "born" a farmers son Iwan ap Dafydd Ddu was born in the 17C to my adoptive parents. He then found and turned my Sister Mari Llywellyn in 1890. I am the Youngest.

I have not yet found myself a partner, but having had bad encounters with seemingly honest Manpires who have turned out less than gentlemanly I have decided it's me time. My passion for all things risky, my bikes and fast cars, my sport, tear me apart form my family and my roots. I'm still unable to decide if life as a nomad is the way forward. I have acquired a flat in BlackHeath in London and think it may be time to see if I can live alone. I think I'll be very happy as long as I have my bike.

I recently spent a weekend in Ireland with Siobhan, Maggie and Liam. I wish to thank them from the bottom of my "heart" for their hospitality, and for helping me to become a true independent woman. I feel like I have found a true soulmate in Maggie. She is the same as me, restless and wants to be free. She has even invested in a bike, a Ducati. I adore my BMW K1200RS, and I need the bike as an extention of myself. It makes me feel "real" and whole again, like there's something in the world that's worth living on for. Maggie has made me feel my worth again, she's a cracking girl and although she towers over me in stature, she's such a fragile little thing. I wouldn't want anything to happen to her.

Along with the lovely fellow Celts in Ireland, I have met a few Nomads, mainly Donna and Scarlett, they have also taught me to have a new sense of freedon and not to be bound by the constraints of my home and family. I'm anticipating a great time ahead. And for the first time thinking seriously about my future life being just Beth Pyrs from Wales, and being proud of it.

My Life so far, the past 45 years

Having spent the last 40 years of my life a sanguine Vegetarian, I'm still finding it hard to resist temptation. Does it ever get any better? I have just completed my last year of secondary school again this time concentrating on languages and Science. I first went to Corpus Christie Foundation college in 1977, before I attended the Guild Hall in London for training as a performer and Musician. It was only then that I found that I could not sing the songs that I used to sing in a controlled way. My life has always revolved around music, it is food to my soul and I found that I had my voice, but was unable to use it without it becoming a siren call for my prey luring them to me and destroying their senses, even other vampires are not immune. I have thought constantly about taking my talent to the Volturi for their use. It is far too dangerous to have such a talent and to throw it away.

It makes this life seem even lonlier to me, that I have had to sacrifice the one thing I loved. I hope some day I will be able to sing again to my hearts content. Until that day, I'll just have to twitter (celticgirl1913@twitter.com).

The dark years

Mostly Wales is cold, dark mysterious and devistatingly beautiful. It's a lonely barren wilderness. I was lost for many hears, heartbroken, not caring, not feeling, not living.
Oh gentle winds 'neath moonlit skies,
Do not you hear my heartfelt cries?
Below the branches, here about,
Do not you sense my fear and doubt?
Side glistening rivers, sparkling streams,
Do not you hear my woeful screams?
Upon the meadows, touched with dew,
Do not you see my hearts a'skew?
Beneath the thousand twinkling stars,
Do not you feel my jagged scars?
Seek not my mournful heart kind breeze,
For you'll not find it 'mongst these trees.
It's scattered 'cross the moonlit skies,
Accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
It's drifting o're the gentle rain,
A symbol of my silent pain.
It's buried 'neath the meadow fair,
Conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It's lost among the stars this night,
Too far to ease my quiet fright.
No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
For simply ... it has torn apart.

My family cared for me as if I were a baby, but I was wild and had a very hard time coming to terms with my "new" self. Iolo and Shân loved me as if I were their own child. Barely 18, the girl I knew before locked inside my broken heart. I was cold, unfeeling. How could he have done this to me? I heard that he was living in India, I had to face him and rip out his heart like he had mine.

I loved my "new" family dearly, but I was eaten by desire to avenge my "change". I travelled to him, following whispers on the breeze. I went alone, to Mumbai, never stopping once. It was 1964, the world was changing around me. I embraced the change but was thirsty for revenge. I found him in the Royal Palace, but watched and waited as he courtisaned many a lovely dancer. More than anything I needed to know what I meant to him if anything.

That night I murdered for the last time. It was a necessity, the Lady in Question was an arrogant snob who had access to a ball at the palace held by the maharishi. I stumbled around in her wardrobe and found my first item of coture, a sequined Mary Quant dress in deep burgundy, which accentuated my waist length blonde hair and pale skin.

I was beautiful.

In a moment of doubt in front of the mirror I asked myself what I was doing so far away from home, on my own, was he worth it? I perused for a long time, not moving, not daring to look away from the girl woman in the mirror. My God, look at what I had become.

I lost track of time there deep within my own self doubt. I lost myself completely allowing the dark to encompass me. No heartbeat to count, no warmth.

I ran, all the way to the dance, in shoes so large they swallowed my feet. I did not care I had to get some answers.

When he saw me he knew why I had come. He stared at me with his death dark beautiful eyes and took my hand, and silently led me to the dancefloor. I felt so weak against him, so feeble. But this had to end.

"Well now child" he whispered to me, softly sweetly just as I remembered in those fuzzy memories

"just as perfect as I remember!" He laughed then and I think it was the laugh that tipped me over the edge.

"How dare you" I sang him his favourite oh fortuna, and in that moment I served my justice, his body only dancing it's macabre dance. I had taken his head in my hands. I ran with it and threw it into the flames of the fireplace. I can still hear the screams today. I had no answers, my heart was still in tatters, but I had my revenge. It made me no happier this way, but it has made me the wary, lonely figure you see today. A square peg in a round hole, never quite adapting to the vegetarian way of life.

I am a child of Wales, dark, changing, perhaps even aloof and proud. But I have time on my side and my heart must mend.