This Is Not About Vampires

After art I had lunch. I sat with people I did not like. I would rather sit alone, but only the weird kids sat alone, and I was normal. The people I sat with let me sit with them because I threatened their lives. I didn’t talk to them and they knew not to talk to me. I brought a fake lunch everyday made of plastic play food. Before I had it, teachers would always ask “why aren’t you eating?” and I would then tell them “my only functioning organ is my brain.” Then they would ask all kinds of questions concerning my sanity. It’s much easier to just appear to be eating.

I got that feeling that someone was watching me. I looked up and locked eyes with a girl who had been staring at me. Her friend leaned over to her ear and whispered loud enough that I could hear: “That’s Tyler. He’s gorgeous, of course, but don’t waste your time. He doesn’t date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him.”
I gave her the finger. She took it as an invitation to come over. Great.

“Hey!” She said flirtatiously.

A familiar smell made my nose tingle as my brain triggered a chemical that told me I was hungry.

“You’re on your period,” I said blatantly, “I can smell it.”

The girls face turned a bright red. I bet this was one of those moments girls talk about when they use the phrase ‘and I wished the earth would open up beneath my feet and swallow me’. I wish it would swallow her too. Despite her suicide-worthy embarrassment, she was not giving up.

“I was wondering, maybe, if you might…”

Get on with it so I can shoot you down.

“…want to go out sometime?”

Thank you. Here comes the fun part.

“I’m gay,” I said monotonously.

The look on her face was that of someone who had been shot in the heart. She shuffled away, her soul hopefully broken.

Now, let me get this cleared up now. I’m not gay, I just told her that to leave me alone. So all of you horny slash fiction writers put down your pens now. There is no chance I am ever going to do anything with someone of the male variety. Do not mistake my anger and hatred for confused, hidden, subconscious homosexual urges. In fact, don’t write any form of fanfiction concerning me in romantic situations, including females. You see, I hate everyone. Even if I did like someone (which I don’t and never will, get your hand away from that pen!) there’s no chance of anything happening. There is no blood flow in my body. At all. Anywhere. Get where I’m going with this? That’s right, I’m eternally flaccid. So if some hot vampire guy (if vampire exists, which they don’t) comes up to you asking for some sexy time, he’s lying. More than likely he’s just going to drain you of your life juice.

My thoughts were interrupted by a “Hey!”

Another fly appeared on the windshield that is my life. And my fucking wipers weren’t working.

I attempted to ignore this one, staring down at the food I wasn’t eating. The guy who said ‘hey’ sat down next to me. Oh joy. He was outgoing. I was forced to look up, I could feel his awkward gaze sliding over my body.

The guy’s pants were so tight, it made me, who was not wearing tight pants, embarrassed for him. I might use such pants as a torture device. Shove a person in pants that tight and you can sit back and watch them suffocate.

“What?” I asked, pumping my voice full of the ‘essence of peeved-ness.’

“Want to go out sometime?”

“No, I’m straight.”

“No, my friend just told me you were gay.”

“Well, I changed my mind.”

“You can’t do that!”

He had me pressed in a corner with his tight pants-ed logic. There was only one thing I could do. Since I did not have superhuman speed, I created a diversion.

“Look!” I screamed, pointing over the guy’s shoulder, “assless chaps!”

The guy whirled around as I made my escape. I sprinted towards the door, but something caught my legs. I fell to the ground, baffled. Above me stood the self proclaimed vampire hunter wielding a very garlic-y looking loaf of bread.

“Drop your loaf!” I warned, but he stepped closer, the loaf nearing my skin.
I wasn’t really afraid of garlic. The whole ‘vampires can’t take garlic’ thing is a myth. You get one vampire who’s allergic to the stuff and suddenly everyone thinks it’s the bane of our existence.

He poked me ineffectively with the loaf.

“Why won’t you be annihilated?!” The self proclaimed vampire hunter screamed dramatically at the ceiling.

In his moment of blind rage, I jumped to my feet, grabbed a tray of food off of a table of freshmen goth girls, and smashed the self proclaimed vampire hunter in the face. Raviolis flew everywhere.

The bell rang. It was time for lit class.