Sleepwalking Past Hope

I’ve been watching her…Night after night, waiting for her to appear. She’d leave the house; never in haste, but she had a purpose. She didn’t dress like I thought she would, but that was fine with me, as long as she was still the woman I knew at heart.

I hoped she was.

The way she moved still captivated me after all this time. Her light footsteps taken in feline tendency, her hips, swaying gently to the beat of her silent drum. With every passing day she was unknowingly pulling me further into her grasp; clutching tightly at my heartstrings, raw with years of neglect.

I so longed to feel her; to heal these wounds that have scarred six times over…one for every decade spent alone.

It’s horrible- the feeling of being surrounded by so many, and yet your mind has the tendency to isolate itself.

“You are alone”, it tells you. And you believe it. The hope that she was pure enough to be reborn was enough to keep me alive. For now…

I usually didn’t linger in mortal settings for long. This café was enough to drive any blood sustainer bonkers, even considering the most activity this place saw at this time of night were the rats in the putrid back alley. The heat radiating from the glaring fluorescents, and the sizzling grill only elevated the stench of blood in the air. But all I could seem to focus on was her slow, calming breaths, humming in my ears.

She didn’t notice me as she scanned the pages her tome. Such concentration put into the most trivial of things. Although I admired her thirst for knowledge, I was too old to tell you how many books I’ve read, and how many theories life has proved wrong. One of the many things that has left me weaker with doubt. But at this moment, I have no doubt in my mind that we will know each other once more. I was determined.

The hour was growing late, and I knew she would be leaving for home soon. I usually accompanied her home; following a safe distance behind, making sure no other creatures of the night would hurt her.

My preferred disguise is usually a bird of some sort. Most likely anything I can get my hands on, seeing birds were scarce in the colder seasons.

I liked to make sure she was safe. Ever since I’d had this hunch, ever since I knew it could be her, I’ve had severe paranoia about her every move. I would flinch at the sight of her tripping over a crack in the wet pavement. Take in shallow breaths when she was unsure about crossing the street. I wanted to physically be there, but that’s the part I’m currently working the kinks out of…

But alas I focused on easier thoughts. Thoughts of her books…the miscellaneous text that rattled through her mind was fascinating. I wanted to know more about her. What she felt, who she was now, why she was here…but then again I can’t read her mind.

That’s where Linde comes in. He’s the only reason I know what she’s thinking of half the time. Although immoral, I’ve had him spy on her every once in a while, just to see how she is.

I wish she was thinking of me…

Being the Reader of my clan, Linde doesn’t have much cause for speech, but when he does speak, it’s usually rather useful stuff if you ask me. I get to be inside her head. Timing my moves in sync with hers.

Exiting through the kitchen without being seen was an easy task. Transforming was another. It was somewhat degrading, but an amazing feat nonetheless. I stripped myself of my clothes, making sure to fold them as small as possible, so they’d be easier to hide. I was in the very back alley of two adjoined buildings, with no direct access to the street, so I was sure not to get caught. Throwing my clothes on an old piece of cardboard near the crates of waste, I took form as my mind willed my body to turn into another. I could feel my legs and arms contracting into small, compact, hollow wings and feet. The feathers then began to rapidly spring from my skin. My vision was reborn as I saw the world in a new light.
I am a shape shifter, the only one of my kind. In vampires, the trait had died out long ago, but somehow, when I was made, and abandoned, my creator had left me with the incredible gift.

A gift desired, and despised by all.

Following her closely, I landed every few feet, just to give her a chance to catch up. When she was concealed once more behind heavy doors, I flew back to where my clothes had been. I arrived only to find them missing.

Splendid.

Franticly searching the alley, I saw a silver gleam hit my eye. A man, tattered and feeble looking was walking past the dumpster, with my jacket on, the shiny buttons being what grabbed my attention.

Great. Now a hobo has my jacket.

Seeing as all the other clothes were missing too, I assumed he had taken them as well. Not caring much for material things, I figured they would do more use to him than I. Letting the annoyance pass me, I quickly flew in the direction of my home.
I had to see a man about a dream…