Saving Is Forbidden

The snow started to fall several hours before she became a vampire.
A few flakes first, in the dull gray late-afternoon sky, and then wind-driven swirls and eddies around the edges of the entry way of the hospital. She sat at the front reception desk watching out the window, as sharp gusts of snow billow, then swirl and drift to the ground. She tried to remember the last time the weather was like this. She was a little girl on Christmas day. And snow was everywhere. Outside, the landscape shimmered in the light and ice, and children from the neighbourhood, children whose parents were younger and thus less acquainted with the possibility of ammonia. Beth pressed her face, her fingertips, against the screen, listening. Yearning. Classic music would be playing in the background, eggnog and a cinnamon bun still left on the table for her. Untouched. But that was a long time ago. She was still trying to compose herself when the door from the vestibule to the waiting room swung open. A man in a brown tweed overcoat stood tall and strong in the doorway, his hat in his hand, taking in the yellow textured wallpaper, the fern in the corner, the metal rack of worn magazines. He had brown hair with a reddish tinge and his face was lean, his expression attentive, assessing. He was not distinguished, yet there was something in his stance, his manner - some quiet alertness, some quality of listening - that set him apart. Beth’s heart quickened and she felt a tingling on her skin, both pleasurable and irritating, like the unexpected brush of a moth’s wing. His eyes caught hers, making her blood run cold. Their eyes locked. Unable to break - unable to breath. Finally he did so, and left slowly, laughing out the door. She was breathing hard, not sure what to think, or how to feel. It doesn’t even matter, she didn't know him. Later that night she decided to take the trash out, since it wasn’t busy anymore and it was quiet. It was always quiet at night. The disposable bottles made a clank sound when it hit the bottom of the trash can. She shivered, and started to head back. When suddenly, she saw an outlined figure from the exit sign. It was so dark. She tried to scream but it was muffled by a rough hand. His weight on her body. His mouth on her neck. How'd he?- He was so fast! His movements were so fluid, so delicate, she didn’t even have enough time to process what was happening. No time to think. That was her last thought up until she slipped into darkness. She felt like she was floating, like she was bouncing on clouds and thin air. She lost all feeling in her body. And wondered, is this what dying felt like? It didn't matter, nothing does anymore. That was it, just nothingness left. She opened her eyes, and then she was startled by both the darkness and the beauty all around; a small oblong of light, reflected off the glass doorknob, quivering on the brick wall. Her new cardigan, lovingly knit atop of her nurse uniform. She could practically see every stitch. Her hair, now out of the elastic band, cascading like waves down her shoulders. Her skin delicate, and almost luminous, collecting the light from the street lights. She checked the time remembering she had work. 12:32am it read. She was gone for hours. That's when she fled. Hurried all the way back to her station. The maternity ward. She shut the door softly knowing there was sleeping newborns in the room. From here through the glass window, she could she a sleepy parent smiling weakly at their new child. She turned, trying to mind her business. She washed and dried her hands, preparing to bathe the babies. As she did this, she went into deep thought. For Bethany Anne Richard was thirty-one, and she had been waiting a long time for her real life to begin. Not that she had ever put it that way to herself. But she had felt since childhood that her life would not be ordinary. A moment would come - she would know when she saw it - and everything would change. She'd dreamed of being a singer, but the lights of the high school stage were too different from the lights at home, and she froze in their glare. Then, in her twenties, as her friends from nursing school began to marry and have their families. Beth too had found men to admire. But eventually it all faded. For a dreamy time she imagined that someone would transform her life. When years passed she gradually turned her attention to her work, again without despair. She had faith in herself and her own capabilities. She was not a person who ever got halfway to a destination, and paused, wondering if she left an iron on and if the house was burning down, she kept on working. She waited. She read too. Sometimes she would let the books slip from her hands, through her fingers, and would gaze dreamily out the window of her plain little apartment on the edge of town. She saw herself moving through another life, and exotic, difficult, satisfying life. Her clinic would be simple, set in a lush jungle, perhaps near the sea. It would have white walls; it would gleam like a pearl. People would line up outside, squatting beneath coconut trees as they waited. She, Beth would tend to them all; she would heal them. She would transform their lives and hers. Consumed by this vision, she had applied, in a great rush of fervor and excitement, to become a medical missionary. Don't get her wrong, working with babies in the maternity ward was lovely. But she had dreams too. Beside her, the baby still slept. She stood and walked to the windows, the floorboards shifting and creaking beneath the worn carpet. Velvet drapes brushed the floor, remnants of dust reminding how far-flung this estate used to be. Hollow Creek was a small town, a place where everyone knew each other. But sometimes it felt like no one knew her at all. Beth unfolded the blankets and lifted her. She was so tiny, five and a half pounds. Alaolu, is what her parents named her. She had such rich dark hair. Beth checked her diaper and changed her. She had not woken up. And sensation of both dark and good swept over her. Deep down, she wanted to help this child, make her look fuller, healthier even. Just looking at her and those blue veins running through her skin. She was sick. She was born with a heart defect. The other nurses didn't notice, how could they not? But then again, how did she? She looked at the infant's veins again, and her throat tightened, her mouth was so dry it felt like cotton. She was so thirsty, by the time she went to grab a cup of faucet water. She was repelled. She went straight back to the baby, confused. And suddenly she got that feeling again! She had to do something. Her tooth pricked her lip from biting it so hard, and blood filled it's place. A calmness settled her. Her throat still burned but at least she felt a little bit better. That was strange. Just then, something crazy came over her. The baby, Alaolu. Beth picked her up, and sunk her teeth into the child's arm. So tiny, yet so delicious. She couldn't bring herself to stop. Why would she? Sharp footsteps tapped through the hallway, echoing. She recognized the voices right away. For a moment longer she stayed where she was, feeling powered of energy, wondering how she could send Caroline, her colleague away. But her voice came closer, near the stairwell. She had to stop now, but she couldn't make yourself do it. She was so thirsty. Finally with no time left, instinct kicked in, she licked the spot she bit into and the tiny teeth marks went away instantly. Alaolu was back on her temporary bed, still sound asleep. Beth quickly looked into the mirror to check if she was a mess. Strangely she wasn't. She was beautiful. Her eyes were an icy blue, not the hazel she always had. When did they change? Surely she would've noticed this morning when she looked at her reflection to throw her black hair in a messy bun for work. The door to the nursery was opening, and decided to think about it later since she was in no mood to be chastised by Caroline for standing there doing nothing. Thinking about the attack, of course she wouldn't tell anyone, especially to those who didn't want to believe what they thought was a lie. Crimes in this town were very unlikely. It didn't matter anyways. But it did. She changed. Her whole body, her sight on things, changed. Something happened, how else could she just nearly kill an innocent baby. And the blood, oh the blood. Chills went thought her, her mouth watered. What was happening? She was desperate for answers. She sighed, she didn't know what to do anymore. Not with her life, what she accomplished. She sat in the bus terminal all night, dozing and jerking awake, and in the morning she caught the first bus to her home, traveling deep within the town. After an hour and a half, the bus stopped where it always had, on the corner of Cherwood and Haven, and then roared away, leaving Bethany in front of the grocery store. The street was quiet, a newspaper plastered against a telephone pole and weeds growing up through cracks in the sidewalk. Red and black graffiti covered the plywood-covered windows, bleeding into the grain unreadable. Thirst was a fire in Beth's throat. Across the street, two men, middle-aged, one bald, on with thin greying hair to his shoulders sat playing checkers on the porch. They looked up, curious, suspicious, and for a moment Beth saw herself as they would, pants wrinkled, shirt a day and night old, hair tousled and flattened from her fitful sleep on the bus. She did not belong here, never had. Beth stood for a moment longer in the chilly air, grateful for the silence. Gradually she became aware of a figure standing in the distance. A tall man, in dark jeans and a brown jacket, colours so muted he nearly became another part of the early-autumn landscape. Something about him - something about the way he stood and stared so intently in her direction - made Beth uneasy. She nodded at the men, then turned and started walking, feeling their stares. She looked back straight ahead, and the figure was gone. She didn't care, she was too tired. A light rain, delicate as mist, began to fall. She walked, though her legs ached. She thought of the hospital, a lifetime or a dream away. The road curved, then curved again. The hill steepened and she could see apartments appearing. The wind rose. She walked up the steps to the double doors. Pushed floor 2B in the elevator and waited. Soon she could relax and rest. It was so busy today, so hectic she thought. That's when an image; a memory of the attack crossed her mind, gone before she could glimpse it. She unlocked the door, sighing. Finally, she was home. She dropped her purse and keys and sat on her hard bed. Her head still throbbed. She lay down and pulled the quilt her grandmother made her long ago around and over herself. She made it long before she died. And it was her only memory of her. She closed her eyes. It was so quiet. She thought of the sounds that filled her life here. Nothing came to mind. Here there was only the sound of the wind fluttering the old leaves and a branch tapping along the exterior of the window. She pulled the quilt more fully over her. Still, she shivered for a few minutes longer, from the cold and the residue of travel. She closed her eyes, just for a few minutes, she thought.
As far as Beth knew, she lived alone. But she could feel a presence, and not a good one.
"I suppose you don't remember me," the voice was saying, and Beth still half asleep, not sure if she dreaming or hearing voices in the wind, shifted at the tugging at her wrists, at the muttering voice, and ran her dry tongue against the roof of her mouth. Her life was hard, it was tough, the days long and full of work, and there was no time and no patience for grief. Beth turned and her wrists hurt. Startled, she half woke, her eyes opening and drifting over the room. He was standing by the bookcase, glancing through a book. She didn't care to tell which one. It had grown dark outside- she had slept a long time, a whole day- and candles were strewn around the room. Yellow light softened everything.
"I hope you don't mind..." Noticing her watch the candles.
"...I didn't like your florescent lights. They hurt my eyes."
She dared not to speak, for if she did, she would scream and ask an exclamation for why in the world would give him the right to come into her house, and put candles on because "he didn't like the lighting." It was her house! She kept her temper. She put out her anger, like you would put out a flame. She watched him though. Steady grace, lean build. This is was the man she saw in the waiting room. And possibly, the one who attacked you. Don't be an idiot, of course he's the one who attacked you, why else would he be in her house. She tried to sit up then, but was stopped again by her wrists. Puzzled, she turned her head; metal cuffs tied her to the bedpost. Beth let her head fall back heavily on the pillow. The nerve this guy has. Then again, she should be careful. After all, she is the one tied up.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"William." he said. "You can believe that or not," he added.
"William," she said analyzing the name.
Checking to see if she knew him somehow. Through a computer or document. But nothing came to mind that matched his image.
"I wonder if you would be good enough to release me?"
"Not yet." His voice was swift and bright.
"I'm thirsty," she said. He looked at her for a moment; his eyes were cold, sherry-tinted brown, strong. Then he went in the hallway, releasing a wedge of a cold draft into the room. He came back with a metal cup. "
Thanks." she said, "but I can't drink this lying down."
He made a tisk noise with his mouth.
"So picky." But it was barely a whisper, yet she heard it. He slammed the metal cup on the end table, causing some of the liquid inside splash. It was a red, crimson colour. What kind of drink was that? He slit his wrist with fast motion, letting blood gush. He let it drip. In her mouth? She didn't care, it was good. She drank as much as she could, when he finally licked his wrist clean, revealing no scar ever once being there. Her mind was jumbled with questions. She didn't know what was going on. And now, she was hoping, and relying on the man that had her tied, to save her and answer her questions.
"Look, please I won't do anything, just release me please."
He considered it, she could tell that. But it's like he wants to do something before unlocking her, just to be on the 'safe' side, like there ever was.
"No," he replied very sternly but with interest, gazing at her with those lifeless ice blue eyes. This reminded her of earlier, and how she had the same eyes. What did this mean? She didn't know, and huffed in desperation.
"Why? I didn’t do anything" She said barely a whisper. He heard, and replied.
"There's something you should know first."
"And what will that be?" She said curiously. What he was about to say next changed her whole perspective, her mind, her whole life.
"…Your a vampire."



She didn't know what to say, she was shocked, loss for words. What could she say. He just told her she was a vampire, yet it all made sense. Should she accept it? She always thought she wanted something more to life, to her life. And here it was begging to be taken as an opportunity.
"Prove it." she said. He eyed her suspiciously, noting her paleness, her short of breath, paused. "It already begun. Your transformation is almost done." He said through chilly air.
"What has? Your a liar! Please don't do anything, let me go!" She struggled. After a moment, she was surprised by her strength, she could already see the metal of the cuffs crack. What is going on?
"To answer your question earlier, I will prove it to you, but on one condition."
"Well?" She scanned her eyes all over his face, and made a mental note how gorgeous he was. He smirked before carrying on and said,
"You don't run. I need you to stay calm, as I show you what will be the unimaginable." "Okay" she breathed, still mesmerized in his beauty. They were outside now. She'll admit, she was tempted to run into the thick trees alongside the landscape. She could make it. But she agreed to do this, at least try. With that he was gone, one moment holding her hand, the next just colors spinning around her. Wait, was that him? He stopped and looked at her with a devious smile plastered on his face.
"Did you see that?"
"Y-yes" she stuttered. Though she doesn't know why. It wasn't cold out, and if it were, she didn't feel it. Is that what William meant when the 'change begun'? Or was she kidding herself? Was she happy with the idea of being something exoardinary. Someone different? "That was me running." William said, the smile still on his face. She liked his smile. It was completely adorable, as if he were a child. Even if he were a vampire, it didn't show. He looked human, well besides his speed and strength of course. She watched as he lifted a tree from it's roots. What would she do now if she was a vampire. She couldn't go back to work, knowing she might unintentionally hurt someone. Like Alaolu. Oh poor Alaolu. What has she done? She was a vampire, and she bit Alaolu. Did that mean the infant was one too? Or was babies protected from this find of evil the descended her. She had to find out! William, back from his fun, in front of her, just staring. She didn't know how long, for she was in deep thought. She needed to go to the hospital immediately. William who noticed her certain approved look, was curious with question. Without even saying it, she spoke. Her voice strong and beautiful.
"I need to go somewhere. I did something stupid. Something bad." He nodded, understanding. She walked to the bus, as he pulled her to him.
"What are you doing?"
"Going on the bus." He stared at her in disbelief.
"You're a vampire remember? We both are." Realization hit her. Oh yes, how could she forgotten? The hid within the trees before making a run for it. Their speed so accelerating, it was hard for her to breathe, not like she needed to. They made it to the hospital in five minutes, what would have taken her a little over an hour by bus. She was astounded. What skill! She went through the halls, which felt like a never ending maze with her new profound friend, a stranger by her side. She went straight to the infant, relieved that she hasn't been taken home yet. And she saw her. Alaolu in awe. She was so beautiful. William noticed as well, but to be sure he stuck his thumb in her mouth, sharp teeth. The result he didn't expect, but nonetheless, he let baby Alaolu drink. She patiently watched. After that was over, Beth picked up the baby close to her ear, listening to her heart. It was strong, pure, and healthy. Not what it was before. Under the mask of mistake, she was glad she could help the baby be healthy, not alive, but not dead either. This baby was immortal, like her. In the last forty-eight hours, her whole world changed, she even changed someone else's which she wasn't sure it was the right intention or not. This baby would leave soon, she knew that. She couldn't take her. She needed to keep in contact with this girl. On a piece of paper, she wrote the baby's first and last name, gender, birth date, parents, phone number, and address.



Is what it looked like. She felt relieved. There still was a chance for this child.



A year later, she was used to her new skills, and beauty. She controlled her thirst, with help from William, and still worked at the hospital. She was happy. She still kept tabs on Alaolu, watched as she grew faster than an average baby would, as she learned how to walk and talk faster than an other baby. Up until she sang the ABC's. She'll watch, but not as close anymore. She couldn't watch who she created. Of course there was nothing wrong with Alaolu, just the fact she was immortal, undead. Then why did she still age? There were quirks to it. Things she still had to figure out. She walked on, down the dark city streets, past people emerging from restaurants and theatres. She did not really think about where she was going, though she knew. She saw she'd been caught, frozen all this time since the moment she was turned. Her life turned around that single action. And then again, right after, a newborn child in her arms. When all this started.




It's been a whole sixteen years since that night in the hospital. Though their relationship was mutual since Alaolu didn’t even know her. But this was the year, she would talk to her and tell Alaolu who she really is. Starting tomorrow, the birth of dear Alaolu, Beth will tell her everything, and in hope, she make her own decisions on what to do. She missed her, the years that have passed with just William were great, but the little creation she made was entirely one to toil. She loved Alaolu as her own and wished to see her. William came over, noticing her deep thought expression, and asked,
"Nervous?"
From the beginning he knew how to grasp and hear bits of her thoughts, but obviously not everything. Vampires may seem invincible, but they weren't. Plus it came with practice and years to do so. She knew how too, but only with humans, she has yet to master William's thinking, as he mastered his emotionless face. In just one day she would she her daughter, for she was very nervous,
"Yes," she nodded. All she could do now was stay calm and look ahead.
"Don't be my dear" he said with wisdom in his voice. He gave her a peck on the lips and held her hand, guiding her close to the fireplace. A romantic gesture? She didn't know, but whatever it is, she would be fine. William was sure of it, and for that, so was she.
The next day she went to Alaolu's home. The home she's had since birth. Today was her birthday. She will tell her.
Do not be afraid.
Her sweet sixteen was magnificent. Cake, friends, money, and an IPhone all for her birthday. She was such a lucky girl. She was so popular, but so sweet and kind. So smart and beautiful. She was... she wished she could say she was hers. She just watched her life, she wasn't involved. Guessing Beth was too close, Aloalu looked up, using that strong vampiric nose. She knew something odd was lurking about outside. Herself. Alaolu kissed her mother on the cheek, picked up a bag of trash and headed about outside to throw it out. Watching her in awe, Alaolu came straight over to her, not the trash can. What was happening? Did she knew she was a vampire?
"Hello" Alaulo started.
"Hello" Beth repeated. Beth sighed. She might as well get this over with. Before she spoke. Alaolu held her hand up stopping her from continuing.
"I know" is all she said. How?
"I remember." She said next. She did? Did this mean?
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I want you to know I love you, I always have. I also watched over you, to make sure nothing and anyone would hurt you. But of course you took good care of yourself" Beth rambled. Darn she was so nervous. Alaolu smiled. She found it amusing. She then gave her a hug, pulling her close.
"I've missed you so much!" Alaolu said with joy. "Thank you for the intention of telling me, I thought I would never see you again."
"It was my pleasure." Beth replied. She wasn’t nervous anymore, this felt so right.
"You'll always be my daughter. Always." Alaolu in return nodded. Beth finally said
"It's time." She knew it was. Alaolu had a choice to make, carry on with her semi human life with her human parents and friends. Or be with her kind, her and William. Learn the facts about herself. Beth stared at Alaolu, making her decision, staring at her with her cool intense stare. She closed her eyes, and once she opened them. She nodded, and smiled.