‹ Prequel: Monster
The Last Sunrise
New Start Isn't So New
I smile as I step out of our new apartment building and feel the warm sunmelt into my skin. I thank Alex again as I walk to Tops to work my ass off pushing carts. It's a hard job but someone has to do it. It pays good too. I think I'm working until ten tonight. I'm not sure. I usually just work for however long they tell me to. I could use the money. I'm the only one who eats normal food now and boy, does it taste great. I think back and wonder how I survived without waffles and oreos. But I survived with Alex. We kept each other alive. And I failed.
I shake the thoughts out of my head. This isn't the time or place to give myself a guilt trip. I tell everyone I'm thinking positive and sometimes I do but other times, I look back and think of what I could've done instead. I am such an asshole sometimes. I could just punch myself in the face over nothing. My mind is always racing. Whether I'm doing something or not. I always think of how I could fix things that I fucked up. I'm not sure if it's something that everyone does but I do it. All the time.
I make my way into Tops and walk in the back where I grab my card and punch myself in. I walk back out into the parking lot and turn on my iPod and blast my music. Half of it is that screamo shit where boys "scream their hearts out" and the other half is that dance shit that makes everyone happy.
I push my first cart into another, locking them all in place until I have one giant line. I start pushing them toward the building and push them into the slots where they're stored. There's a few old homeless men who come around asking for one and I give one to them even though I'm not supposed to. I don't care. I think of when I was a vampire and craved blood and sex every other hour. If I wanted something, I'd get it with a snap of my fingers. Why should these men have it different?I push my last row of carts into the building and walk back inside to punch myself out.
"See ya, Billy." Alex, an aisle stocker, says to me as I leave. I grunt in return. Why couldn't he have a different name like John or something. Why did his name have to be his? I exit the back room and walk through the aisles to the front, ignoring stares, waves, and giggles from immature sixteen-year-old girls. They're annoying. But the treat me like a movie star. I could probably get something out of it. A free drink, a free burger, anything. It's cool.
I feel the heat from the heaters hit my face as the automatic doors open and I step into the cool, autumn night. I believe the temperature is now 88 degrees. But I don't know.
Temperature doesn't matter because after you lose the one you love, your body seem to be cold all the time. And numb. And painful. And...
I take my first few steps into the walkway and I see a car coming. Shouldn't they be slowing down? I ask myself and stop walking. My feet are melted inplace and I can't move. The car pulls up in front of me and stops. It happened so quickly.
I shake the thoughts out of my head. This isn't the time or place to give myself a guilt trip. I tell everyone I'm thinking positive and sometimes I do but other times, I look back and think of what I could've done instead. I am such an asshole sometimes. I could just punch myself in the face over nothing. My mind is always racing. Whether I'm doing something or not. I always think of how I could fix things that I fucked up. I'm not sure if it's something that everyone does but I do it. All the time.
I make my way into Tops and walk in the back where I grab my card and punch myself in. I walk back out into the parking lot and turn on my iPod and blast my music. Half of it is that screamo shit where boys "scream their hearts out" and the other half is that dance shit that makes everyone happy.
I push my first cart into another, locking them all in place until I have one giant line. I start pushing them toward the building and push them into the slots where they're stored. There's a few old homeless men who come around asking for one and I give one to them even though I'm not supposed to. I don't care. I think of when I was a vampire and craved blood and sex every other hour. If I wanted something, I'd get it with a snap of my fingers. Why should these men have it different?I push my last row of carts into the building and walk back inside to punch myself out.
"See ya, Billy." Alex, an aisle stocker, says to me as I leave. I grunt in return. Why couldn't he have a different name like John or something. Why did his name have to be his? I exit the back room and walk through the aisles to the front, ignoring stares, waves, and giggles from immature sixteen-year-old girls. They're annoying. But the treat me like a movie star. I could probably get something out of it. A free drink, a free burger, anything. It's cool.
I feel the heat from the heaters hit my face as the automatic doors open and I step into the cool, autumn night. I believe the temperature is now 88 degrees. But I don't know.
Temperature doesn't matter because after you lose the one you love, your body seem to be cold all the time. And numb. And painful. And...
I take my first few steps into the walkway and I see a car coming. Shouldn't they be slowing down? I ask myself and stop walking. My feet are melted inplace and I can't move. The car pulls up in front of me and stops. It happened so quickly.