This Is Not About Vampires
I Hate the Number Four, Delirious Wolf Boys Who Want to be My Friend, and Crossbows
The first half of the next day passed rather quickly. I did a much better job avoiding people. Even the self proclaimed vampire hunter was quiet today. I made it all the way to lunch without saying more than three words to anybody. I said ‘yes’ to Mrs. Graminsky when she asked if I ate breakfast. She was so thrilled that her teaching was actually influencing someone I immediately regretted it. So I stapled all her papers to her desk. At math class, I said ‘four’ because it was the answer to a problem. I then yelled ‘bitchuvadyke’ during art to make the mismatched girls shut up. It counts as one word, really.
Unfortunately, I was about to speak many words to someone I did not wish to speak to. I was about to meet the person who was my complete polar opposite. A person so different from myself that I did not understand why the universe did not explode when we got in close proximity to each other. I finally meet someone as ornery and hate filled as I am and then I have to meet my own personal antichrist. Of course fate would punish me this way.
But enough of my blabbering, I’ll just tell you what happened.
I was in the cafeteria with my tray of plastic food when I was jumped by a self proclaimed bringer of joy.
“Hi! You look lonely!” He said, invading my personal space bubble and grinning.
“Look,” I told him, “I’m not into butt sex, but there’s a guy over there in tight pants who would be happy to go on strolls with you and the like.”
“You’re funny!” he said, sitting down so close our thighs touched.
“You’re intruding.”
“So what’s your favourite colour?” He asked.
This guy wasn’t leaving.
“Red…” I said to appease him. His eyes lit up, he probably thought he was forming some lifelong friendship or something.
“…blood red.”
I thought being morbid to such a giddy boy would make him uncomfortable.
“Of course that’s your favourite colour you silly vampire!”
Um, what the hell. I’m not a vampire.
“I’m not a vampire!” I tried to explain.
“Sure you are! I can smell you!”
He leaned in close now, so close our noses were almost touching, so close I could almost hear tight-pants boy popping a boner.
“I’m telling you this because I trust you…” The boy said in a serious, whispery tone. There was a long, unnecessary, overly dramatic pause. I rolled my eyes.
“…I’m a werewolf.”
Um. I’ve know you for about 237 seconds (yes I counted every tick of horror) and you’re telling me your deepest darkest secrets?
“I really doubt you’re a-”
My unpleasant conversation was suddenly cut short by an arrow that thudded into my lunch tray. It said self proclaimed vampire hunter all over it. Literally. The imbecile had written “I am a self proclaimed vampire hunter and I am going to kill you !!!!!!1!!oneshift!!1!!” along the shaft.
I turned calmly around to see the self proclaimed vampire hunter wielding a crossbow on the other end of the cafeteria. None of the students noticed. None of the teachers noticed. My new werewolf friend… he noticed. The small boy was sprinting, on all fours, towards the self proclaimed vampire hunter. He then pounced, barking, onto the cross bow wielding fool. I took this opportunity to stealthily exit the lunchroom. Looking back, I concluded the werewolf wasn’t actually a werewolf, he wasn’t even a werewolf-rip-off-shape-shifter-thing either. There was no coat of fur, no claws, no teeth. He was just a boy suffering from delirium who thought he was a wolf. And he decided that he would be my new friend.
I attract the most delightful people.
Unfortunately, I was about to speak many words to someone I did not wish to speak to. I was about to meet the person who was my complete polar opposite. A person so different from myself that I did not understand why the universe did not explode when we got in close proximity to each other. I finally meet someone as ornery and hate filled as I am and then I have to meet my own personal antichrist. Of course fate would punish me this way.
But enough of my blabbering, I’ll just tell you what happened.
I was in the cafeteria with my tray of plastic food when I was jumped by a self proclaimed bringer of joy.
“Hi! You look lonely!” He said, invading my personal space bubble and grinning.
“Look,” I told him, “I’m not into butt sex, but there’s a guy over there in tight pants who would be happy to go on strolls with you and the like.”
“You’re funny!” he said, sitting down so close our thighs touched.
“You’re intruding.”
“So what’s your favourite colour?” He asked.
This guy wasn’t leaving.
“Red…” I said to appease him. His eyes lit up, he probably thought he was forming some lifelong friendship or something.
“…blood red.”
I thought being morbid to such a giddy boy would make him uncomfortable.
“Of course that’s your favourite colour you silly vampire!”
Um, what the hell. I’m not a vampire.
“I’m not a vampire!” I tried to explain.
“Sure you are! I can smell you!”
He leaned in close now, so close our noses were almost touching, so close I could almost hear tight-pants boy popping a boner.
“I’m telling you this because I trust you…” The boy said in a serious, whispery tone. There was a long, unnecessary, overly dramatic pause. I rolled my eyes.
“…I’m a werewolf.”
Um. I’ve know you for about 237 seconds (yes I counted every tick of horror) and you’re telling me your deepest darkest secrets?
“I really doubt you’re a-”
My unpleasant conversation was suddenly cut short by an arrow that thudded into my lunch tray. It said self proclaimed vampire hunter all over it. Literally. The imbecile had written “I am a self proclaimed vampire hunter and I am going to kill you !!!!!!1!!oneshift!!1!!” along the shaft.
I turned calmly around to see the self proclaimed vampire hunter wielding a crossbow on the other end of the cafeteria. None of the students noticed. None of the teachers noticed. My new werewolf friend… he noticed. The small boy was sprinting, on all fours, towards the self proclaimed vampire hunter. He then pounced, barking, onto the cross bow wielding fool. I took this opportunity to stealthily exit the lunchroom. Looking back, I concluded the werewolf wasn’t actually a werewolf, he wasn’t even a werewolf-rip-off-shape-shifter-thing either. There was no coat of fur, no claws, no teeth. He was just a boy suffering from delirium who thought he was a wolf. And he decided that he would be my new friend.
I attract the most delightful people.