And if I Die Before I Wake...

I burst through the front door (quiet loudly I might add) and, to my dimay, woke the one person I'd rather kept sleeping.

"Blast it boy!" he cried.

"Who is it?" This was a woman's voice.

"The little scum is home."

I stayed silent as they walked towards me, my eyes still burning. It was no use to hide when the smell of my blood was everywhere. I might as well warn them about it.

"What are you doing home halfbreed?" she spat. The woman, turns out, was my father's mistress of two months, and as expected, her oppinion of me did not differ from that of anyone else's.

I straightened myself and pointed to my still bleeding eyes. "Someone brought a smoke bomb to school and set it off. I'll be blind within the hour and the smell of my blood won't fade for a good week. I'm just warnign you in advance."

I saw the hunger in their eyes as they looked at me, they may not be able to control themselves today. I exited the hall quickly and power-walked to my room. They may be faster than I was, but I could at least get a head-start. I slammed the door to my room when I entered and kicked it. I should be able to predict this by now!

Why was this making me so angry?

I eyed my bed with fading sight and lay on the edge, letting my feet hang. Within a few moments my eyesight completely faded and I fell asleep.

My eyes strained to see as the light swallowed my form. Darker and darker it became, but one light, flame maybe. . . yes, it was a flame. It danced in the distance, and seemed as if it could only be described as hope. Even in dream form I knew that the saying was cliche, but what could I do? It just seemed to fit, the flames WAs hope. But the darkness closed around it as if to smother the life it brought and my sanity along with it. I tried to move towards it but realezed that I didn't quite know where my feet were.

"No!: I cried, trying to move closer, but no sound came from the throat. Not even a hiss, or a whisper.

"No!"

There was a sudden pain in my wrist and I awoke sceaming. It felt as if my veins were being gouged out by something sharp, and a hot liquid was pouring into my wound.

"Stop! Let go!" I cried, trying to shake the pain from my wrist, but cold hands held me down. I could not see who was doing this, but I knew who it was.

I felt my arm go numb as the blood was drained from it, robbing my strength aswell. But they did not stop there.

"No. . . please. . ." I mumbled but they ignored me. Soon my body was empty and there were new bite marks I'd have to hide tomorrow morning.

They left my room after that, laughing. They slammed the door loudly and clambered down the hall as if they were drunk until I could no longer hear them.

Tears would have formed in my eyes if they hadn't already dried out.

Kill me, please kill me now.