The Price of Living Immortality

JOANALIE

The first place I visited in Chicago, Illinois was Roosevelt High. The last time I'd seen this place, I'd been 17-years-old, and human. Technically speaking, I was only eighteen now, but I had the physical appearance of a 25-year-old. If this doesn't make much sense to you, I suggest reading the account of my first ordeal with the immortal life . . . or un-life, to say the least.

My old high school looked just the same as it always did from the outside. Cold, stone, and with an air of strict authority that I'd once grown to know and love. However, the parking lot was completely empty. There were no lights on inside. As I looked around me, the only being I saw for miles and miles was Devlin, or Cal. Whichever you'd like to call him. I'm back to referring to him as Devlin now, even if he doesn't look like the Devlin I used to know.

I felt so lost. What was I doing here, running back home, with this man who's made my life miserable, and without the one who meant everything to me? The one thing I was avoiding right now were my fears. I was acting like a child, but this time, I wasn't going running back to mommy. I was afraid to go back and find out what had become of my parents, and my baby twin siblings. Nathan And Arianna would be 18 months old, now. They probably didn't even remember me.

"Devlin," I whispered.

He had his arms wrapped around me before I could finish saying his name, and surprisingly, I didn't push him away. I needed this familiarity right now. He knew I was scared.

"Yeah?" he asked gently.

"Why does everything look so - abandoned?"

He didn't answer me, and I suppose this was for the best. I began leading him slowly in the direction of his parents house. Slowly for us, that is. My normal trek home from school took about half an hour. He and I arrived there in ten minutes. I didn't know what to do, what to say, or what to think as I stood on the sidewalk outside of my house, looking in.

Just like Roosevelt, it looked the same from the outside. Inside was dark. However, I sensed the sole presence of one familiar person.

"Stay," I demanded. There was no room for discussion as I approached the house, my faint heartbeat growing ever stronger. My eyes felt like they were about to water. I was so choked up with emotion.

I'd been standing before the front door for about a minute before even realized it.

"Go on, Joanie," Devlin encouraged. Oh yes, I've forgotten to mention his endearing new nickname for me. Right now was not the appropriate time to reflect upon my bad decision in who I kept for company. This was much bigger than that.

I raised my hand tentatively and held it a centimeter away from the wood of the door. With a sharp flick of the writs, I'd rapped the door with my knuckles, and I held my breath (not that it mattered much anyways).

Somebody was moving in the house. They were shuffling along as quietly as a mouse, but I heard it. I sensed their emotional pattern and detected that they were frightened for their lives, and this startled me. This neighborhood had always been safe before.

There was a peephole in the door, and I could see through it to the other side. I saw practically a reflection of my own former eye. The door was opened a centimeter, and a voice no louder than a breath of wind called out.

"Joan?"

My over-enthusiasm got the better of me and I slammed the door open, knocking it off it's hinges, tackling the person behind the door in a bone-crunching embrace.

The person whimpered in pain and I immediately released them. I'd forgotten my own strength in the excitement of reuniting with a family member.

"It can't be," they whispered, astonished. I righted myself and took a good look at this person who I loved so dearly.

I was crying now. This man. My father. He was afraid of the woman he saw standing in front of him. He was alone. "Daddy, it's me. I'm back . . . er, I've just been through a lot. That's all." I had to focus to keep my voice from cracking as I took in my father's haggard appearance. He was in old jeans and a well-worn flannel shirt. Now that I thought about it, I suppose it was a little chilly. Then again, it is the Windy City.

"Joan," he repeated, taking me into his arms and holding me like he used to when I was a little girl. It was the best feeling in the world.

He pulled away after a long time, and the look on his face was as confused as ever. Right now, we both needed some answers. It seemed he would be the first one to ask.

"Who's that?" he whispered, as if Devlin wouldn't be able to hear. I cleared my throat, unsure of how to answer this.

I realized I would have to start lying right now, and most of what I told my dad would have to be this way. I sighed. "This is my friend, Devlin. He's the one who saved me. He helped me get back here."

My dad smiled and he addressed Devlin. "Then I'm eternally grateful to you, son. Why don't you come in?"

I could tell my dad was fighting back the tears, as well. There was an utter sadness behind his demeanor, though. My heart wrenched at the thought of where the rest of my family was.

Devlin followed us into the living room where my dad took a seat in his favorite armchair, and Devlin and I sat next to one another on the couch, an appropriate distance from each other.

"Dad, I know I owe you more answers then you owe me, but I have to ask. Where's mom, and the twins?" the last sentence came out in a whisper. I was afraid of the answer.

At this point in time, my dad sighed. "Well . . ."

HARRISON

There weren't many things I did for enjoyment anymore. I fought. I got piss-drunk. I fucked around a lot. You're wondering how the second one really worked out for me. Well for vampires to get wasted, they have to drink the blood of a mortal who's heavily intoxicated. I wasn't killing anyone though. I was actually doing them favors. I drank enough blood to get all of the alcohol out of their systems, then I was done with them. I moved on to the next girl, or my next wild immortal combat.

I'd relocated to Romania, so there were wild immortals everywhere you looked. I had a different girl in my bed every night. I'd tasted every kind of alcohol known to man. It was the life. Yeah I know, you don't want to hear any of that shit. We all know I'm kidding myself; drowning my sorrows in sex, violence and alcohol so I can forget the pain of losing her to that dick.

That's not to mention the fact that I was a wanted criminal by order of the Head Vampire Gregorovich. The War was still rapidly approaching. It was actually only two weeks away. The Lesser Immortals were worried, without . . . her. I wouldn't have let her participate in any battle anyway, but now that she'd fled the country, they were pretty much hopeless. What they didn't know was how equally worried the Greaters were.

I almost found the will to smile when I thought about that last part. The reason for their worries was me, or the absence thereof. I was formerly in charge of our military, and as many talented fighters as there were out there, none of them had my expertise on how to deal with thousands of angry immortals ready to rip the Lessers to shreds. Gregorovich has gone through hundreds of leaders since he'd banished me, but nobody is good enough for King, or to lead the military. In other words, they're screwed without me.

"What are you smiling at?" a female voice asked me. I shook my head to clear the haziness of the alcohol and turned to see a mildly attractive mortal girl staring at me in the bar. She had so much hairspray in, it was hazardous for the environment, and if her face had been anymore made-up, she'd had a full scholarship into clown college without filling out any forms.

I was appalled at the blond bimbo, yet this was the kind of girl I'd been taking home lately. She sidled up to me with lust in her eyes, and I honestly just wanted to give her the finger and walk off. So that's what I did.

I walked out of that bar and into the cool air of the night. An immediate relief fell over me as well as the usual pang of abandonment. Whenever I was alone, it gave me time to think, and this was never good, seeing as I always thought of the same thing. It was amazing how much I hated myself these days. I couldn't bring myself to be mad at anyone else.

Things needed to change though. I couldn't go on acting like this forever. I'd end up killing myself out of depression or something emo [no offense to anyone! please, this is not meant to be an insult!] like that. I would find a way to turn this around. If she ever came back, I couldn't let her see me like this. I had to be successful and independent. I didn't need anyone.

The strong scent of wild faerie hit me, and my mouth watered. It was a male, too. Faggot. Then I hated myself again. I had turned into a dick, too. I shrugged.

A good kill would take my mind off things for a few minutes, at least.

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