The False Vampire

As soon as I opened my eyes, darkness was all that I could see. A steady silence beat against my ears, creating its very own brand of noise. However, a steady aroma lingered in the air. Savouring the smell, I laid in bed moments longer, straining into the darkness until finally, I could make out the shapes in the room.

A life full of adventure, that was mine. Rolling my eyes, I turned out of bed, discovering precious seconds too late that I was tragically short of mattress, resulting in the eloquent greeting of the floor to my face. The heavens hate me. Celtic culture and human sacrifice – or was that Mayan – fluttered through my sleep-deprived brain. With effort far greater than I cared to exert, I pushed my body off the floor, placing the tangled blankets back onto the bed in a messy heap.

I padded slowly towards the light switch, toes delicately sweeping the floor to ensure that I didn’t trip, and snapped it on with a flick of my wrist. Light swept through the room, revealing the crooked floorboards and reminding me of the slight musty smell that lingered. I quickly pulled out an outfit that I thought appropriate, a mid-thigh length jewel toned blue, and woollen grey tights that tucked into my black leather ankle boots. On the wardrobe door, I spotted my calendar. Today was Thursday, late night shopping and the only day I went to the shops.

Grasping the bundle in my arms, I bullied my way past the squeaking door, running up the steps in a bid to avoid the horrible noises. The bathroom was vacant, but was quickly taken up by me, and soon filled with hot steam that was clogging the half broken fan. The shower, quick and warm, allowed me to wash the hair that still had bits of twigs in it, courtesy of the gnarled tree, as I called it.

Distracted, I didn’t smell that teasing aroma that curled in my nostrils after the completion of my shower, and presumably, woke me. I walked out of the bathroom, hair swinging and dripping into the kitchen. Peeking around the corner, I saw my mum and dad sitting at the table, discussing something with hushed words I couldn’t hear. It only made the worst run through my head. Composing my expression, I skipped around the wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the house. I looked over to the bench only to see bacon, my stomach rumbling at the sight of it. It looked fresh, as though only recently removed from the frying pan. Slowly, oils and juices dripped down to the paper towel that cradled it, letting the material greedily absorb it like a weed taking the moisture that a plant may have so desperately needed.

“Adrienne, hurry up and eat. We need to go shopping tonight and they close in three hours.” Behind the newspaper my dad was reading, I could see him smirk at my mums tone of voice.

“Mum, I was just wondering, while you shop around could I please browse on my own? Please?” I threw her my best puppy dog eyes, whilst speaking in the most composed and mature voice that my dry throat allowed.

“Absolutely not. You should know better than that”

‘And you’ve said the same thing, for how many years now?’

“Alright mother, I understand.” Another sigh escaped me at the thought of the lost opportunity as I dug into the bacon that was placed in front of me. Once I finished, I rinsed the plate and stacked it within the dishwasher, throwing the paper towel into the bin. With fast, light steps, I ran down the stairs, wincing as they groaned beneath my feet.

Accompained by a startled cry, my foot went through the old wood. I huffed air out of my nose, grumbling about the stability and conditions of the stairs. Observing the hole, I noticed the edge was flecked with rotting wood, and grumbled further to myself about the maintenance of a flood damaged house. We needed a new one, end of story.

I grabbed my boots, zipping them onto my feet and grabbed a leather jacket and grey scarf. Once more I coiled my hair into a bun, tying it in place with elastic. Running upstairs to look in the bathroom mirror, avoiding the hole in the stairs in the process, I smiled to myself with satisfaction, happy at my appearance despite only having just woken.

Meeting my mum outside, she stood next to the beaten silver car, parked underneath the streetlights that enabled me to have a clear view of the entire street. I appreciated every time we left the house, which wasn’t often enough in my opinion. As she pulled into the parking lot of the resident shopping mall, I noticed many people around. I ducked my head in a painfully shy attempt to hide, now hyperaware of the scar curling down my face, despite the lack of hair to cover it. I didn’t want to see the looks, or hear the questions.

We followed our usual schedule, making a beeline to the grocery store and buying all our supplies for the week. Like normal, mum handed me a small amount of money. We both knew what I would do with it. We finished quickly, loading everything into the car. I prepared to sit back down, ready to leave, but mum grasped my arm firmly leading me in a different direction.

I followed behind her, weaving around couples and small children. A feeling of confusion swept over me, leaving me feeling like a lost puppy. Walking longer, I soon discovered our destination to be a small coffee shop, decorated in shades of brown and orange. I looked around the store, and despite the absurd amounts of vivid shades of orange, the place had a homely feel to it. It seemed as though someone had gone to great lengths to make sure that one felt relaxed here. No later than when I had only just finished my inspection of the café, did mum grab my arm, leading me to plush leather lounges, bright orange in colour. A waiter trailed behind us, his hair a soft, natural looking dirty blonde, with a slight wave. He was tan, light in comparison to others but dark against my own. His eyes, a sea blue, looked remarkably flat, almost soulless, if such a thing were possible.

“Welcome to ‘The Bean Factory’, I am Samuel and I’ll be your waiter this evening. What would you like to order?” His voice sounded as flat as his eyes seemed to be. A sigh left me, partly in sorrow for this young boy, and his soul, which seemed to be broken beyond repair.

“May I please have one hot chocolate and a cappuccino with three sugars? Also can you add two slices of lamington onto that please.” Mums voice was confident, knowing my tastes without question. Samuel nodded, writing down on his small notepad the order that mum had just spoken, before speaking again.

“That will be $12.50 all together. I’ll bring it out in about five minutes alright?” Mum had pulled the change out of her purse, and without waiting for a reply, Samuel had snatched the money and stalked back to the main counter, placing the coins in his apron. At the counter, he served another couple, before placing the orders on a receipt stand, and placing the money into the cash register.

I felt like I could drag my eyes away from him, even whilst mum and I discussed topics of no great concern, nonsense really. It was less than five minutes before Samuel returned with a tray balanced in his hands. With confident gestures, he served out the cake and beverages, his expression blank all the while.

“I hope you had a nice time at ‘The Bean Factory’” he smiled in mock happiness, before escaping back to the main counter, currently empty. To me, there was something different about him, something I couldn’t place my finger on. Maybe it was his intensity, or the perceived lack of emotion that radiated from him. A glimmer in his eyes that I couldn’t place.

I picked up a spoon, stirring my hot chocolate whilst nibbling on my cake. Mum continued to talk, and I, to stare at my drink. A clearing throat disrupted me, and I raised my head to look at my mother questioningly. She smiled knowingly.

“He’s cute isn’t he?” a blush raced across my cheeks, shaking my head I replied.

“He’s cute, but he’s not interested in me” I smiled thinly at her.

“You never know, you should ask him”

“Maybe not. I don’t want to make a fool out of myself mum. Besides, I’ll probably never see him again” I returned back to stirring my drink, waiting for its contents to cool whilst glancing out the window. In the distance, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed across the sky. Sprinkles of rain turned into a downpour, and I observed as people raced across to shaded ground. I turned back to mum, waiting for the inevitable reply that she always seemed to have.

“You never know dear.” Mum smiled around her mug, before continuing to drink.

No, I was positive, I would never see him again.