My Friend, Blood

Cold air is sweeping by my side, trying to push me over. But I can't move or breathe in that matter to sigh. My eyes are open, but my eyelids aren't. I am just a frozen dead body on the hard, frozen ground, trying to figure out why I can still hear my own thoughts.
Something is crawling on my arm. I can feel it, but yet again I can't. I am guessing it's a bug ready to suck the living life out of me. Hey, bug, you are a little late for that. It must had bitten me for now my arm is itching exceedingly. Ugh, great, first I am dead and now, I have an ignoring bug bite on my arm that I can't itch.
Welcome to the beginning of being dead, Aleksandra.
You're aren't dead.
That velvet voice made my eyes bolt open and scanned around what looks like my room? How the world? Was I dreaming that I was still in the basketball court or was I really there? Shaking my head in confusion, I slowly but painfully got up from my bed and rubbed my neck, a sudden ache occurring. Along with the neck ache came a throbbing in my head, leading me to slightly drop my head on top of my knees and groaned quietly in pain. What is wrong with me? Am I sick? Why am I in my room? I should be dead. Zaxier was supposed to had killed me. Why didn’t he?
I kept asking these questions to myself, but surprisedly no one answered them.
A hand soothes my back, bringing an urge of rushing pain into my head. A strong smell made my nose flare, sniffing to find the source of it. The smell was so sweet yet so powerful in stink and belonged to my father who was on the phone, chatting to possibly one of his co-workers. I moaned as I continued to sniff up the smell, my head becoming lighter then again heavier at every once of the smell.
“Hey sweetie. I am here; it’s okay.” Finn whispered, shutting the phone off and placing it on the lap of his pants. The continuity of his hand rubbing against my spine rose agony inside of me, bringing me to jag my hands into my thighs.
“Dad-“ I began to say, but choked on the word. My throat begin to burn, causing me to choke and scratch at it. In response to my distress, he just pat my back. Then without warning, he pull me up into his arms and brought me to his chest, squeezing me tight. I tensed up as I heard the slow rhyme of his heart’s beat, ticking like a clock. I stared up at him, wondering if I should hug back or retreat, but the burning of my head kept causing me to look up at his neck and moan in thirst.
I licked my lips as I heard the rush of blood flow into my eardrums.
A jagged pain in my head brought me to push him off and turn around to lie to my bed, head suffocating in my pillow.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” I heard him asked. I just lift my thumbs up, groaning and moaning in the inside. I pressed my teeth onto my pillow firmly and clinched my hands on my covers. The smell was bringing me to a state of sanity. Something was wrong with me. I just couldn’t figure it out right away.
You’re thirsty. Your body is sensing blood, that sweet stink you keep smelling, and with you disobeying that insight to kill the prey or your father, it’s rebelling. Explains the pain.
He now decides to show up to answer my questions. A hand on my back makes me shiver and clutch my fists tight on the covers, the feeling of bones breaking following. The sting in my throat is torturing me to death in which seems like a joke to me for I’m already dead, I think I am.
Again, you are not dead.
Then what am I, for I know I am NOT alive?, I asked the voice in anger, bearing the pain that is fighting with me.
Well, you are alive, just not technically. You are more like a vampire than an exact human.
Wait, more like a vampire? What the hell is that supposed to me? I am not a vampire. Well, am I? How?
Wow, you ask a lot of questions. Yes, you are a vampire, and it’s quite simple how. You’ve seen vampire movies. A vampire, or in this case Zaxier, bites a girl, or you, on the neck. The venom from the vampire enters the girl’s body and eliminates all of the blood inside. Finally, it enters the heart-
I don’t want to know all of the specific details. I get the main idea, I sighed inside, not believing that I am a vampire. Zay. Where could Zay be?
He’s somewhere else right now. Don’t worry about him. Right now, you have to worry about your, um, thirst.
Oh, yeah, almost forgot about that which is impossible for the acuteness of the pain is pulling me closer to syncing my teeth into my father. I wouldn’t do that, I hope.
“Hey, Alek sweetie. I have to go to work. Um, a lady is supposed to be coming here in a few to take care of you until I come back home. Don’t worry, I am not replacing Paula, so be nice to her.” Finn smiled, standing up and kissing me on the back of my head before leaving my room. While my body violently responded to the kiss, I could clearly hear footsteps walking down the stairs and then out the door, the slam of the door bursting in my ears.
Finally, hell has calm down the fire inside of me.
“Okay, so, how do I get rid of this pain, angel face?” I asked out loud as I took deep breaths, hoping he was still here listening.
First, it would be nice if you don’t call me angel face. That’s an annoying nickname. My name is Elmo. Second, your solution is obvious. When you have a thirst, you find you something to drink.
“Elmo? Haha, that’s a very funny name. It sounds like I am now talking to that red creature from the Sesame Street.” I chuckled, easing the pain that is now vanishing. I could hear a smirk in my head, imagining him rolling his eyes. I sat up straight on my bed, lending against the bed stand. I stared across the room to see my usual green clock blinking 7:23 AM. By this time, I should be getting ready for school, forcing myself through the hallways of disaster and get prepared for the day’s usual. First period, name calling; second period, kicking; third period, food throwing; fourth period, death threats; fifth period, all of the above.
Wait, Finn didn’t say anything about having to get ready for school. Does that mean that I am not going? I silently laughed and as I stepped carefully out of my bed and into my bathroom, a smile rose on my face for the first time in a while.
When was the last time you smiled?
I forgot angel face, I mean Elmo, was still listening to my thoughts. I sighed and stared at the mirror. “A few years ago, before my mother’s death, when my family used to go to the backyard and have a sweet Sunday dinner.” I frowned, looking down at the sink, and tried to held back tears. After getting myself under control from a breakdown, I looked at the mirror again and greeted the mirror’s goddess who today was appearing a little different than usual. Her light cinnamon eyes are now a glowing red sapphire mixed with milk chocolate, her pinkish baby skin is now white snow on her body, and her autumn hair is now a harvest feast with sparkly shades of gold and silver around the edges.
You are beautiful, Aleksandra. Always have been.
“Thanks, angel face. It’s nice to know I look like a pretty vampire rather than an ugly one.” A sigh fills the air, and at this point, I could tell he’s getting fed up with me. Good. After washing my face and taking a shower, I put on my commonly worn green hoodie and blue jeans with my white nursery shoes.
Looking across the room, I found my necklace on the dresser. I walked towards it and was about to reach for it when something forced me back. I pondered in confusion and grab for it again, but slowly this time. Once again, something forced me back with strength. What the-
The necklace was perfect made to fight against enemies of the person who set the spell on it. In this case, a vampire. Your mother gave it to you so a vampire or Zaxier wouldn’t hurt you. Well, Zaxier was the one who turned you into a vampire so with you having his blood in your system, the necklace is considering you an enemy.
But that’s my necklace! My mother gave that to me before she left. Why would you set it just to protect against vampires? I pondered that question as I step backward away from it, sitting on my bed. I have to figure out how to feed this thirst I have right now, not knowing the first thing about vampire 101.
Do you want me to help? I could hear the sarcasm in his voice, for he knew I was going to say yes. I rolled my eyes and headed for my bedroom door when I heard a knock at the front door downstairs. Wow, I can really hear things clearly now. Is that normal? I asked angel face.
Yes, it is. As humans, we don’t have a strong quality of our senses, but with vampires, our senses are higher than humans. Dogs, though, are a little ahead of us.
That’s pathetic, I thought to myself. I was about to go down the stairs and answer the door, but hurled to a quick stop. I could hear something like a voice in my head, but different from angel face’s velvet voice. A low soprano voice with a hint of a Mexican accent to it.
Gosh, when I took this job, I would had expect at least a key to the damn house.
Oh my gosh. It is that the lady that’s supposed to take care of me today? How can I hear her thoughts, yet I am not even near the door? That is im-
possible? Well, like the same way you can communicate with me in your mind, you can communicate with the lady. The only difference is you can hear only her thoughts. You can’t talk to her unless she is also a telepath.
Wait, a telepath? Ha, I thought I was a vampire. Now I am a telepath?
Well, you are a vampire but also you have telepathic abilities. Always have been one, but your powers were never strong as they are now. Like I said, with being a vampire, your senses are stronger.
I paused at the information given to me. I always been a telepath? I pondered over that, thinking of the time I ever heard other people’s thoughts. Then, a vision hit me suddenly.
Eighth grade. I remember that year like it only happened yesterday. It was that one day in science class that I was listening to my teacher Mrs. Griffiths talk about plant’s cells, but during the lesson, I kept hearing this other voice in my head, buzzing like a radio station static out of control. It was coming in and then coming out, words then a fuzzy screech. I shook my head, holding my hands over my ears to get the noise out of my head, but as I did that, all of a sudden, a clear voice came in, yelling straight in my ears yet the high soprano voice wasn’t near my ears at all. I could tell who the voice belonged to, and then again, I didn’t want to know who the voice belonged to. Penelope Dubois, the queen of gossip. Like Sabrina, but her younger sister. Penelope was more intelligent in her ways of being mean, for you could tell that when you said something to her, in the inside, she was laughing her head off. I hated her more than anything after the very day when I came school half-dressed because I had another nightmare the night before, half-sleep and unaware of what I was doing. I was scarred for eternity of the pictures seen around on the web. I been pleading with greed to get revenge on her. And what I heard that day made up for it. Gosh, I’m in so much trouble. If my parents found out about me and Ty, my life would be ruined for good, no phone, no television, no sunlight ever again. How am I going to explain to my parents that I am not a virgin anymore? Damn, why did I drink that beer and kiss him? I shouldn’t had. I shouldn’t had...
Yes! I cheered in evilness. Finally, I had juice on Ms. I-am-perfect-and-you-are-not. I jumped up and down in my chair, standing up and laughing out loud like a spy does when he just found out what the other forces’ plans are. The only thing was, I was that dumb spy who burst out loud the plan to the evildoers.
“Penelope isn’t a virgin anymore!” I shouted to the ceiling, then turned to face Penelope,” Ty Fuller and she had sex at Samantha Kinney’s party last Saturday night! Ha, Ms. Perfect isn’t perfect anymore! Of all of the times I’ve done something, I have finally got my avenge on you, Penelope! Ha!” When I was done, all I could do was sighed out loud with glee and sit back down. Penelope, horror-struck, stared around the classroom before pushing her self back away from her desk, tears dripping from her turquoise eyes, and ran out of the room in a rush, slamming the door wide open. You could only see the weeping of a girl down the hall before it died away. Mrs. Griffiths blinked her eyes at me for a brief second, shocked at what just happened. The class was in complete silence, confused on what just happened. I was the only one in the room smiling, clapping my hands like a little girl who just got a pony for Christmas.
Just like a spy, in the end, my fate was executed.
With memories of being grounded for weeks and hearing that Samantha ran away from home, not coming back every again, I can now feel the guilt I couldn’t manage to grip back in eighth grade. It brought tears into my eyes, wondering whatever happened to Samantha, if she is died or a drunk mother in a shack. Though both thoughts were negative, that was the only thing I could imagined her being with her evil ways haunting her now in the present.
A knock on the door brought me back from the world of memory lane, staring at the door and pouting. I jogged down the stairs and was about to reach for the door when the stinging of headaches strike me suddenly, bringing me dead on my knees, panting for air. I clawed my fingernail into the carpet underneath me, bending my head towards it in a prayer position. The pain seemed worst than when Finn was here. A ding of the doorbell made it even worst with torture.
Help me!, I screamed violently in my head.
It’s the thirst again. It is sensing more blood, making it retaliated. You have to control it or that woman waiting outside won’t be living any longer. Just take deep breaths and think of something happy for a moment. Um, you and your parents on a Sunday morning.
I don’t see how imaging my parents and me picnicking in our backyard will make this any better, but I obeyed, picturing Mom in her blue cotton dress and her bright smile glowing on her pale skin, her gloss raven black hair swinging above her neck. I took deep breaths ad slowly brought myself up, fighting against the habit to fall back down. Legs standing tall, I step forward like a toddler teaching myself to walk for the first time. Step by step and still imaging my mother and my father in the happy days, I finally reached the door, the headache causing my knees to wobble in defense, and my hands to tremble violently as I unlock and open the door. In front of me stood a short woman about the age of 30 with copper brown long hair covering her hazel eyes and beige skin. In one of her hand was a magazine labeled House Hunters and the other a bag of the colors yellow and blue. Her mouth dropped to a frown, a tst sound repeating inside as her eyes hawked me down. She had that, “I’m dealing with a messed-up teen right now” expression mixed with “Jeez, she looks like shit” curving on her outer lips.
“Hi, my name is Ms. Pearson, but call me Isabella.” Isabella reach out for her hand, but I refused to shake, keeping my head behind my back. She smiled in response, a funny expression now spread in her eyes.
“Um, Isabella, come in.” My face tried to form a smile, but failed miserably, ignoring the sharp ache stabbing me in my head. I step back and stood by the door, waiting for to enter into the house. A bit of light from outside burned my arm and sizzled on my pale skin. I silently in my head hollered, slamming the door quickly. Isabella glanced at me, disgust and worry blending on her confused face. I just gave her a small grin before rushing upper to my room, my hands placed above the mark.
“Ms. Williams, are you okay?” Isabella yelled after me, her eyebrows raised. I paused, nodded, then continued on my way to my room. I slammed the door behind me and waited for her to hopefully sit down and don’t come to my room. And like a wish, she did, hearing her sighing out downstairs and in my head, listening to her talking about me, saying, “That girl is so weird. But I’m just hear for a few hours so no point of caring about her.” The sound of police sirens and people laughing from the television hit my eardrums, and I howled on my pillow, hand still over the hurt arm.
Aleksandra, stay come. The burn shouldn’t hurt that much anymore. It would just be a little scar left on her arm.
“What happened?” I whispered crisply, sneering at the pain that extended on its mocking.
You can’t be on in the sun of, course. Rule number one of vampire 101. No vampire is allowed in daylight. The sunlight only burned a bit of your skin, but it isn’t going to be bring huge damage to your skin, so you are okay.
Nice to know that.
“How do I go get something to “drink” then if I can’t be in the daylight?!”
Well, there is one way..
“Okay, what is it?” I waited for him to reply, but only got silence. All at once, million thoughts rushed into my head like strobe lights, bringing my mind to look left then right to focus. Then, one picture stood out from all the others, blinking bright lights. It was a book covered in golden vines and embodied with golden words saying, Spells of Enchantment. It looked like the same book in my mom’s room..
It’s belong to your mother. In the book reads a spell that can make you immoral from light, but you have to be careful, for something it could have negative side effects.
Negative side effects, I echoed. I puzzled over that as I jerked up towards my way out of my bedroom, opening the door inaudibly and speeding towards Finn’s room, staring at the door blankly. I paused briefly, not wanting to trespass into the forbidden. I never went into dad’s house because of the fact that I knew he had some of mother’s stuff in there hanging up, and it would reenter dead memories I didn’t want to experience. But I had to get rid of this keened headache bothering me.
Opening the door slowly, I embraced myself for tears.
Inside was mother’s dark orange curtains hanging over the window and her painted portrait on the dresser, the one I made for her in third grade. Though it was just a face with smudged black and red lines that was supposed to represent her black hair and lips, mother thought it was a piece of art that should be hung up in an art gallery. That art gallery meant her room along with other pieces of crappy arts I made for her in school. I roamed through the room, searching for the book without glancing at the objects that belonged to mother. A tear was beginning to merge with my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly, not thinking of her but having to so the pain doesn’t come back. Mother was bringing me to a blissful melodrama state. That was keeping me alive for a while.
I didn’t notice the book right under my fingernails. It dropped to my feet, me catching it before it caused a huge bang on the ground. In relief, I sat down on the floor, legs crossed, and laid it on my feet. I opened it up and touched the words on the back of the cover.
Adabelle T. Carter.
Mother’s name before she got married. For some reasons that brought warmth into my cold dead heart. My lips formed a shy smile before becoming a frown again, another tear falling secretly. Too late to wipe it away, it fell onto the papers and left a wet mark on the surface. I dabbed away any future tears from my eyes and straightened up, focusing on my mission. I needed to get blood, no matter how disgusting that sound every time I said that.
I need to survive in other to live.