My Guardian Vampire

Oh, shitfuck. It took a moment to strike me, but then it eventually did. My stomach twisted in on itself, the baby probably feeling that too. I rubbed my stomach. Stress was bad for a baby in the womb. This baby was going to be sincerely fucked up; more fucked up than we had expected in the first place with a vampire father and human mother.

“Who s-saw?” I eventually tripped out. The stumbling over my “s”’s meant I was going to become hysterical soon, my hormones on the lovely rise.

“It was-”

“Ah, the lovely couple together again,” Tré said, walking in. I leaned my head against the wall now and groaned. Though admittedly Tré was probably the best person to have found out, as he would have understood the situation better, it still sucked to have the knowledge given to such a bigmouth.

“Tré, you know?” Mike, asked, surprised. I shot up and quickly snapped my head to Mike.

“If it wasn’t Tré, then who?”

I then heard yelling coming down the hall. On the edge of my hearing before was the sound of voices talking, but now only did they come to my attention as the volume escalated. I heard a voice, but it seemed so unfamiliar as a yell. There was then a return yell, which I easily recognized as Katy-

I instantly sprang to my feet, not as easily done as normal as with my belly-package. I quickly walked into the living room, and saw Katy yelling. The person I had never heard yell before yelled again, and I tilted my head back in surprise, this argument definitely more than slightly serious.

“I can not believe you’re defending him!” Bob yelled at Katy. His eyes then focused in on me, and I wished to be very, very small at that moment: so small I would disappear. Bob always had that kind of tone and stature that said “I don’t need to yell.” I never thought I’d see the day where he would ever need to yell, let alone to it at his girlfriend and more importantly my Gytha. Katy seemed to be taking it with grace, her fire present and strong and unafraid.

“I’m not defending him, I’m defending her! Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know my own Gytha-”

I decided then to step in, and cleared my throat. Katy turned around, and saw me. She seemed speechless for a moment. Her argument clearly said that she was on whatever side I was on, not that I myself knew what it was, but her eyes were questioning and afraid. The clear message of “Ali, did you do it?” was in her eyes, and it was too much for me to answer verbally, my hormones tripling my self-disgust for what I had done. I hung my head in shame for a moment as the tears began to group in my eyes, and then managed to look back up at her and give a shallow nod.

To my amazement, she came over and hugged me. I knew she felt disappointment in my actions, but yet she still had the loving compassion to give me the act that she was still here for me, that she cared. I knew now was the time to clear things up.

“Wait,” I said, as if we had actually been talking, “it’s not…It’s complicated. I-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Bob said. “I know what I saw. It’s pretty simple. I’m leaving.” Bob then walked down the hall.

“Wait!” I began, and turned to go after him, but Katy held my shoulders and turned me to face her again.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s a big boy. I’ll talk to him about it later. For now, tell me what happened Gytha.”

I sighed, and saw Mike come in from the corner of my vision. I turned my head and looked at him, unsure of exactly what to say.

“Can I tell her?” I asked, figuring that would be a good start. Though it might have been slightly unreasonable for him to deny, I figured it would be best for him if I asked. He nodded and sat down on the couch. I sat down on the couch as well, though far away from him a possible as a sign to Katy that we weren’t together in that way. She sat down on the chair closest to myself. I looked at Mike again, unsure of where to start.

“Uhm…” I trailed, and Mike sighed.

“I suppose it would be best if I told her,” he said, looking at the ground. His shoulders were hunched and he had his hands clasped tightly, resting in the gap between his stretched-out legs. He was clearly uncomfortable with all of this; Mike was definitely not a very open person with his past or emotions. He took a small sigh before delving right into it:

“I love Ali.”

God, did that sound weird coming from Mike.

Mike paused and looked up at Katy as if to gauge her reaction, and I followed suit. Her face was blank for a moment, the news obviously taking a second to hit her. She then furrowed her brow in confusion for a split second before a clear shock wore in. Getting the expression he was looking for, Mike then continued on, explaining how he was, for whatever reason, ordered to love me, and then how that led to me ordering him to tell me who he loved, et cetera, et cetera. It was painstakingly awkward through the whole explanation, but Gytha seemed to take it well, especially with how far-fetched it all seemed.

“And now we’re here,” Mike finished with another sigh, this one more relieved that it was now all over. Gytha nodded, and then there was a slight awkward pause as she seemed to think things over.

“Okay, Mike,” Katy said, “I believe you. I mean, I wish you had not kissed Ali, but I guess I understand why you did. It must have especially sucked when she was dating Billie Joe, no?” Mike nodded not looking at either of us, and Katy then did as well. “All right. Okay. Now, I should probably go tell Bob what happened, and maybe the others as well. Is that all right?” Mike nodded again, sinking into the couch. I “aw”ed in my mind, feeling awful that he had to go through all this. Confessing anything clearly pained him. Katy too nodded again, and gave him and I a hug before standing up straight.

“It will all be all right. I promise. I’m sure Gerard will even understand as well.”

It was now my time to sick into the couch and look at the ground shamefully. This was a rare occasion when Gytha was not being helpful towards my emotional status.

“Goodbye, Gytha,” I mumbled, and she laughed and gave me a kiss on the head and left. I blew out a deep sigh and tilted sideways, leaning onto the arm of the couch. Mike chorused my sigh. I then turned to Mike.

“Mike, what is going to make this the easiest for you? Does me being around make it worse? What do you need in order to feel okay?”

“For this curse to be gone.” Mike hinted at a smile, and I knew it was as close to a joke as he would be getting today. I smiled weakly, and gave him a lame look.

“You know what I mean.” Mike looked up, and pondered it.

“I guess…Ugh,” he sighed, and clenched his eyes and fist. He took a deep breath out before speaking again. “Sorry, explaining how I feel is extremely hard for me. I guess it’s like… As much as it sucks and tortures me for you to be here, it sucks even more when you’re not around. When you’re here, it’s like I can…”

“Can what, Mike? It’s okay, it’s just me here,” I urged. I then paused, regretting it. “Though, you of course don’t have to tell me. You don’t need to explain-” He interrupted me, holding up his index finger as a sign to wait and be quiet.

“…It’s like I can pretend to be happy.”

I looked at him sympathetically, but held back my words, sensing he wanted no pity. He wasn’t looking at me, but I nodded anyways.

“I understand. I want to help you through this as much as I can. So, now so it’s clear: Does it bother you when I hug you? Or lay my head on you? Or anything like that?”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Once again, pretend.”

“Ah, I see,” I said, and then I tilted myself over in the opposite direction and laid my head on his lap. I then swung my legs over the arm of the sofa, getting comfortable.

“Hey, what is this? I never said I would be your furniture,” Mike said, now smiling. I smiled in return, glad to bounce back from full on awkardness to a stronger normalcy.

“Pssht. The world is my furniture, and I am a couch potato.”

The phone then rang, and Mike stretched his incredibly long arms and picked it up. After a quick “hello,” he then held the phone at my ear.

“It’s for you.”

“Hello?” I asked into the phone.

“Hello Mrs. Cryptcarde. This is Dr. Emans. I know that you had to leave the hospital, but I must remind you…”

There was a long-winded conversation from that point, me murmuring “mhm”s and “uh-huh”s occasionally. I could feel my expression become somber, and Mike looked at me concernedly. Eventually the doctor and I said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone. I then looked up at Mike for a long moment before finally speaking.

“So, Mike, I have to make an official decision: should I abort the baby?”