Red

“Back beat, the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out…”

My foot tapped along to the beats that were screaming out of my headphones. I couldn’t hear anything but the music and my aviators were dark enough that when I closed my eyes, everything was black. Just the way I like it. There’s something comforting about the darkness. The way it’s always there, where ever you are. It protects you, making you invisible. No one can hurt you there.

But apparently, there was no comforting effect today. I groaned inwardly, cursing my twitchiness. All of this waiting was not doing anything for my nerves.

Not helping the matter, was the fact that my parents were late. As per usual. I get the whole ‘fashionably late’ thing. Ten minutes is no big deal. But forty-five minutes? That was just plain rude. And the longer they made me wait, the angrier I got, and the stupid receptionist who got up to ask if there was anyone I could call every five fucking minutes, her tone grower sharper and sharper each time, was not helping.

I snapped my gum and readjusted in my seat. I hate waiting.

I needed a distraction. I opened my eyes and searched the waiting room behind my sunglasses. My eyes landed on a family taking up the corner of the room opposite from me. There was six of them, a worn-out mother and five rambunctious children, the oldest looking to be about 12 years old and the youngest a toddler. I smiled as the mother tried to keep them all under control. The absent father was probably in surgery. Maybe he sawed a few fingers off building his kids a tree house, or smashed one of his legs in a motorcycle accident.

That thought had my mind recall the memory of my own father being in the hospital after a car accident. I was seven at the time, still young and cute enough to be forgiven of any trouble I had caused. I remembered waking up in the middle of the night by the sound of my mother’s frantic voice calling out orders to our maid Marla. I then got up from my bed and scampered out into the hallway, laying down on my stomach when I reached the stairs, and listened in on the women’s conversation.

“-an explosion of some sort. They don’t know what caused it yet. Mike isn‘t terribly injured, thankfully.” My mother’s voice was hoarse and she occasionally sniffled. She was already falling to pieces.

“Do you think it was a bomb? Was it them? It‘s very possible, Mrs. Evans.” Marla whispered.

“Oh, dear Lord,” My mother put a hand to her chest, “I can’t even let the thought of them enter my mind, I just can’t.” She sighed then, and the hand dropped, grasping both of Marla’s hands, “I hope you’re wrong, Marla.”

Both of the women shuttered, and my mother released Marla’s hands and walked out the door. Marla’s head whipped in my direction the moment the front door had shut, and she immediately gripped me by the collar of my night gown and reprimanded me for eavesdropping.

As she tucked me back in, I asked, “What happened to daddy?”

“Your daddy got hurt coming back from the airport, sweetie. He’s at the hospital.” Marla handed me my bunny, christened Patches.

“Is he gonna be okay, Mar?”

“Yes, he’ll be just fine. Now, when I come back to check on you, those eyes better be shut tight.” Marla closed the door, also shutting out the hallway light.

That was the night when my visions began.

I sighed, forcing myself out of my head. Sometimes thinking about past visions brought on new ones.

My already heightened sense of paranoia increased when I felt multiple pairs of eyes focus on me. Sighing, I tipped down my sunglasses, preparing my best fuck-off glare. When I opened my eyes, I found two pairs of green eyes staring back at me.

My mother’s expression was one of carefully controlled anger. Her claw-like hands were balled into fists. My cousin Erik just simple looked amused.

“We’ve been waiting in the parking lot for almost twenty minutes. What the hell have you been waiting for? Us to come and fetch you?” Her voice was steely and burnt like acid. I craved to spit in her scrunched up face.

“Sorry.” I mumbled.

My mother huffed and started towards the door, my smirking cousin in tow. I waited until they were closer to the door to stand up and savor my last moments of freedom. My mother shot me a look before finally exiting the hospital, and I took one last look around the waiting room, at all of the grief-stricken and hopeful families. I sent them all a silent good-luck, turned around, and walked towards my impending doom.

~……………………………...............................................................................................~

It was unbearably hot inside of my mother’s car. I tugged on my collar, wishing that she or Erik would turn on the AC or at least roll down a fucking window. Too bad neither of them are the least bit considerate of other people.

I should’ve realized Erik was going to say something stupid, as his eyes darted back and forth between the road and staring at me in the rear-view mirror. Erik was behind the wheel because my mother’s drivers license had been revoked, due to her multiple DUI’s. So, of course she asked her favorite nephew to help pick up her troublesome, disappointment-of-a-daughter. Yay me.

Erik began speaking in low tones to my mother, his eyes still flashing between me and the road. She only grunted replies to him. Erik, put out by her lack of response, abandoned trying to speak to her and focused his attention on me.

“So Gemma, I heard you’re decorating your body with knives now. Congratulations, you little wanna-be gothic freak.”

Instead of replying, I clamped down on the inside of my cheek. I bit a little too hard, and tasted the blood flow into my mouth.

“I’ve heard stupid kids like you are instant cult heroes. You in a cult, Razors?” Erik inquired, a wide grin on his face. I hated that fucking nickname. I released my aching cheek from between my teeth and clenched my teeth instead. I wouldn’t want to return to the hospital, not for a ripped mouth or for Erik’s soon-to-be broken face.

“Come on, Razors…” Erik taunted.

Shut up, shut up, shut up! I internally screamed.

“Oh. Look’s like witty little Razors has lost her touch. Did you cut up your tongue too?”

Don’t reply, don’t reply, don’t fucking reply…

“Wouldn’t you know, it seems like Razors has become completely dim witted. No response at all.”

My fingernails dug into my thighs as I restrained myself from knocking him unconscious and causing a crash.

“How do you get anyone in your cult to listen to you Razors, if you don’t speak? Do you carve dialogue into your skin?”

That’s fucking it.

I leaned forward and gripped him around the neck, squeezing as hard as I could. Erik let out a pathetic squeal and immediately hit the brakes. Car horns blared from every direction. I felt a tiny trickle of blood run over my fingers as I shook him and screamed obscenities at him. My mother was screaming and trying to shake me loose. My mind was completely blank and all I felt was a strange, animalistic rage. All I wanted to do was rip Erik’s fucking head off.

I almost didn’t feel the slap from my mother. My hands fell in surprise and I reached up to touch my tender cheek. There was blood on my hands.

Erik was slumped over the steering wheel, his body vibrating with little sobs. His pain-filled moans and my heavy breathing were the only sounds that filled the car. After a minute, my mother gripped Erik by the shoulder and pulled him up right. My eyes widened at the hand-shaped black and blue markings that encircled Erik’s neck, and the thin tendrils of blood that disappeared into the collar of his shirt.. He glanced in the mirror, and immediately looked down when he met my gaze.

“Gemma,” My mother whispered, her voice low and cautious, “I-”

My mother was interrupted by three loud knocks sounding from Erik’s window. He gave my mother a frightened look, and she motioned for him to roll down the window.

The cop lowered his head to the open window, and spoke in a slow, southern drawl, “You okay here folks?” I felt my jaw drop, “Boy, what’re those marks on you’re neck?”

Ah, fuck.

My mother plastered a wide, fake grin on her face and leaned over the gear console, letting the cop get a nice view of her chest. Classy, real classy mommy dearest.

“He’s fine, officer, just fine. Now, you go on and just put us out of your mind and go on home, dear.” My mother said, her voice as sticky and sugary as syrup. The cop had a peculiarly blank look on his face, like he’d been hypnotized. I anxiously held my breath.

The cop suddenly smiled, “Alright, ’yall have a good day now,” I watched, mouth agape, as he walked away.

“What the FUCK was that?” I screamed, gathering my senses and turning back towards my mother, who was fixing her top.

“Don’t you scream at me!” She hissed, abandoning the collar of her shirt and fastening her skinny, manicured hands around my wrists. She pulled my forward, until are faces were only a few inches apart, “Now, you listen to me you little bitch. You will never lay a finger on my nephew ever again. Do you understand me? I said, do you understand me!?” I nodded, my eyes locked and unblinking on hers, “Good.” She released my hands and sat back in her seat. I resisted the urge to rub my wrists. “We’re going straight to the airport. Your things are already in transit to Carol’s home.”

I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from screaming out in anger and frustration. My whole body felt hot, like I had been filled with fire.

Stupid fucking bitch.

I stared out the window to avoid Erik’s haughty gaze. Dick.

Wilted trees flew past my eyes, defeated by the heat of the sun. The ground was brown and dusty, most of the top soil dried up and blowing around in the wind. My eye lids began to shut, the weight of the heavy air inside the car combined with the stress becoming too much to handle. I watched, eyes half-closed, as the scenery outside slowly began to melt, as if it had begun to rain and the water was washing the world away. There was no white canvas beneath the suburban portrait prior, but a post-apocalyptic scene, filled with broken homes and cracked sidewalks, burnt bodies glaring at me from within crushed cars. The sky was red and gray, angry clouds growling and spitting out lighting bolts. Each strike landed closer and closer to the car, which I noticed, seemed to be driving itself. But I felt no panic, no fear. My breathing remained steady as I surveyed the chaos around me.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

A pair of black eyes filled my vision. And then, like a ghost, he appeared, conjured out of thin air. Everything around us froze and the car disappeared. I was suddenly standing across from him in a barren field. I stared in amazement at a large bolt of lightning that was in the middle of striking down an old tree. He chuckled.

“Still so astonished by the littlest things, you are. I guess I shouldn’t expect you not to be. You are no different than you were before.” His voice was as smooth and fluid as silk.

I meant to ask, “What the hell are you talking about?”, but instead I said, “Your eyes are different.”

And they were. His white eyes had been replaced with black ones. I looked him over with more scrutiny, and saw that his beautiful black wings were also smaller, not nearly as large as they were when we first met. And his fangs were almost gone, but still not quite the size of human incisors. He was also shorter, at least by a foot and a half, placing him at about 6’ 5”.

“Yes, little one, the transformation is almost complete. So I will see you very, very soon.” He whispered, his face a mere inch away from mine. His skin smelled like smoke.

He suddenly smiled and grasped my hand. He lifted it to his mouth, taking his time with placing small kisses along my palm. He paused to smell my wrist. Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth and bit down on my hand.

“Ahhhhh.” I cried, grabbing my forearm and tugging, but his teeth just sank in deeper, “Stop.” I moaned.

Just as a wave of nausea came over me, he suddenly let go and I fell to the ground, holding my hand to my chest. He smiled at my obvious agony. I shuttered at the sight of his blood-covered mouth.

“Now, I’ll never loose track of you.” He leaned down and pressed his palm to my forehead. I went limp. “Sweet dreams, princess.” He moved his hand over my eyes, and everything went black.

~……………………………...............................................................................................~

“Gemma, Gemma can you hear me?”

“Ughhhh.” I groaned and tried to open my eyes. Fuck too bright, too fucking bright.

“What the fuck’s wrong with her?”

My right hand brushed my leg and it exploded with pain. Confused, I tried opening my eyes again. I stared down at the bloodied appendage that was my hand.

“Oh fuck.”

Oh fuck was right.