Status: These are short chapters, I know.
My Desperate Last Days
The First Sleep
My beloved readers, I beg you to listen to my words. Every being has primal instincts buried inside their souls. "Woman's intuition", "ESP", "gut feeling", call it what you will, but know that it is there for survival reasons. There is energy in the Universe, that emanates from all of us and sends signals into the world. When you get those strange feelings - to call a relative, just to find out they died the next morning; to walk instead of take the bus, just to discover that the bus crashes down the road - listen to them. My gut told me not to meet up with Damien, but I ignored it. Like any young woman, I was entranced by the mysterious man.
I demanded that my friends help me prepare for my date with Damien. I decided on something faintly seductive: a black baby-doll dress and a pair of leggings. I wore silver flats instead of heels, because I did not know what the plans were, or how much walking we'd be doing. My hair was pulled into a messy bun, I did subtle makeup. I chose to wear my Nana's silver cross, which hung past my breasts on a long chain. I remember how often I'd check the time: 7:00, 7:05, 7:07, etc. I was so nervous. I contemplated having a small drink to calm my nerves.
When eight o'clock rolled around, I sprayed myself with lavender scented perfume, and headed to the lobby of my residence hall. He was sitting in a large leather chair by the window, looking outside tranquilly. He wore a white shirt and black tie under a black vest, with black pants. I won't lie, I was attracted to the amount of black that he wore. He still had not shaved his face, and yet his beard did not seem to have grown the slightest. I wondered if he consciously kept it that short length. He turned to me before I said anything, and smiled. I opened my mouth to say hello, but he held up his index finger to silence me. He took my hand and kissed it delicately. I could feel all eyes on Damien and myself. I thought "what a gentleman".
"Lavender," Damien said as we walked outside, "is said to arouse men," he looked down at me with amusement, "did you know that?"
"As vanilla is with woman," I told him, chuckling, "Do you like lavender?"
"Very much. What do I smell like?" we stopped walking. He took both my hands in his.
I leaned in and inhaled his scent. It was strange. He smelled like nature. Not dirt, perhaps it was freshly cut grass? What was that underlined smell that was trying to emerge?
"Trees," I told him.
"Do you camp?"
"I do."
"I thought so."
We went for a walk through the park. The sun was setting and the light posts were aligning the pathways nicely. We talked about school, my family, hobbies. Damien kept asking more and more about my writing. He truly found my fascination with vampires captivating. I innocently mentioned that if we came back to my dorm room, he could see my collection of vampire novels, movies, and pictures. I saw a twinkle in his eye, and we headed back.
When we arrived in my room, I could tell he was amazed. Small movie posters from vampire movies, books upon books of vampire stories, even a tiny "Dracula" doll. He looked through a journal of mine and was impressed by my writing. I played some music and sat on my bed, waiting for him to make some sort of move. He made none. Damien wanted to talk, to listen. He was actually trying to get to know me better. I found it strange, and very sweet. The night wore on, and I got no closer to sleeping with him.
Around midnight Damien got up to leave. I offered to walk him out of the building, but he told me not to. By this point Damien had not kissed me, but I hopelessly wanted him to. He left, without a goodnight kiss, or even hug. I changed into my pajamas in a daze. I was so disappointed.
I concluded that Damien did not like me, and honestly, it broke my heart. I found myself on the verge of tears that night. I thought I'd been charming enough. Obviously I had done something to upset him. I kept telling myself that he was not the type to kiss on the first date, but laughed the thought away. I fell asleep assuming Damien did not like me, and it hurt.
Damien is old, I say that now. He is hundreds of years old, and I was no match for a vampire that powerful, especially in my human form. Damien, I now know, is sick. He was playing with me. As I slept that night, practically in tears, Damien sat outside my window, sneering.
I demanded that my friends help me prepare for my date with Damien. I decided on something faintly seductive: a black baby-doll dress and a pair of leggings. I wore silver flats instead of heels, because I did not know what the plans were, or how much walking we'd be doing. My hair was pulled into a messy bun, I did subtle makeup. I chose to wear my Nana's silver cross, which hung past my breasts on a long chain. I remember how often I'd check the time: 7:00, 7:05, 7:07, etc. I was so nervous. I contemplated having a small drink to calm my nerves.
When eight o'clock rolled around, I sprayed myself with lavender scented perfume, and headed to the lobby of my residence hall. He was sitting in a large leather chair by the window, looking outside tranquilly. He wore a white shirt and black tie under a black vest, with black pants. I won't lie, I was attracted to the amount of black that he wore. He still had not shaved his face, and yet his beard did not seem to have grown the slightest. I wondered if he consciously kept it that short length. He turned to me before I said anything, and smiled. I opened my mouth to say hello, but he held up his index finger to silence me. He took my hand and kissed it delicately. I could feel all eyes on Damien and myself. I thought "what a gentleman".
"Lavender," Damien said as we walked outside, "is said to arouse men," he looked down at me with amusement, "did you know that?"
"As vanilla is with woman," I told him, chuckling, "Do you like lavender?"
"Very much. What do I smell like?" we stopped walking. He took both my hands in his.
I leaned in and inhaled his scent. It was strange. He smelled like nature. Not dirt, perhaps it was freshly cut grass? What was that underlined smell that was trying to emerge?
"Trees," I told him.
"Do you camp?"
"I do."
"I thought so."
We went for a walk through the park. The sun was setting and the light posts were aligning the pathways nicely. We talked about school, my family, hobbies. Damien kept asking more and more about my writing. He truly found my fascination with vampires captivating. I innocently mentioned that if we came back to my dorm room, he could see my collection of vampire novels, movies, and pictures. I saw a twinkle in his eye, and we headed back.
When we arrived in my room, I could tell he was amazed. Small movie posters from vampire movies, books upon books of vampire stories, even a tiny "Dracula" doll. He looked through a journal of mine and was impressed by my writing. I played some music and sat on my bed, waiting for him to make some sort of move. He made none. Damien wanted to talk, to listen. He was actually trying to get to know me better. I found it strange, and very sweet. The night wore on, and I got no closer to sleeping with him.
Around midnight Damien got up to leave. I offered to walk him out of the building, but he told me not to. By this point Damien had not kissed me, but I hopelessly wanted him to. He left, without a goodnight kiss, or even hug. I changed into my pajamas in a daze. I was so disappointed.
I concluded that Damien did not like me, and honestly, it broke my heart. I found myself on the verge of tears that night. I thought I'd been charming enough. Obviously I had done something to upset him. I kept telling myself that he was not the type to kiss on the first date, but laughed the thought away. I fell asleep assuming Damien did not like me, and it hurt.
Damien is old, I say that now. He is hundreds of years old, and I was no match for a vampire that powerful, especially in my human form. Damien, I now know, is sick. He was playing with me. As I slept that night, practically in tears, Damien sat outside my window, sneering.