Post by shiina on Jun 28, 2011 15:22:05 GMT -5
I woke feeling warm and slightly dizzy with a pleasant light feeling. The sun was just risen, hiding quietly behind the trees, and suggesting it was probably around eight in the morning. That meant my mom was likely at work and Ben at a bike race, and if not a race, just riding for fun. Since I knew both my parents wouldn't be home, I closed my eyes again to go back to sleep.
It took a few minutes for my mind fog to clear, but as soon as I remembered the events from the night before, my eyes shot open. I sat up abruptly and looked around to see that I was still in the go-kart path. Kayla was nowhere to be seen and Morgan was a few feet from me, laying on the ground as a limp, lifeless corpse.
In no time at all I was up and by her side, praying I hadn't killed her. To turn someone into a vampire you would have to make them drink vampire blood. The vampire drinking the humans blood first was just so that the vampire wouldn't be weakened or killed from it themselves. I fell to my knees beside Morgan, putting my ear to her chest to listen for any sign of even the quietest breath. Nothing. But I wouldn't allow it. With tears already streaming silently down my cheeks, I fumbled with my nails, pressing them against my wrist in an attempt to get any size of scratch that would be enough to bleed at all. My hands were shaking too much, though, and I couldn't get my nails to enter my skin.
I pressed my ear to her chest again, trying desperately to hear any faint, barely audible heartbeat. Any small thump. Some near-silent pin drop. I heard nothing but the blood pounding in my own ears, "No," I sobbed, "No, this can't be happening. No, no, no." I collapsed on top of her, crying violently.
I didn't even remember Kayla existed until she materialized behind me. My breath caught in surprise when I felt the touch of her hand on my shoulder. I spun around to look at her through my teary, blurred vision. She looked weak, with bags under her eyes and her hair sticking up in random directions. She was swaying slightly on her feet.
"Don't worry," She said, flashing me a weak, ghost of a smile that held no humor, "I took care of her." She held up her arm, showing me a thin, long scar running from her wrist, almost to her elbow.
My mouth opened before I could think, "Are you insane?" Remember what I said before about vampires being weak if they give up their blood without drinking from a human? Yeah. That.
"You were kind of passed out," She snapped, "I didn't have much of a choice."
I let out a long, shuddering breath as I looked back at Morgan. She looked peaceful. Dead, rather than reborn. I realized then that, at any moment, she would wake, her heart beginning to beat with a new propel, her eyes seeing with a new focus, and all of her senses in general sharp, refined, and sensitive. I had never witnessed someone being turned into a vampire before, and I guess I technically hadn't still, considering I had been passed out when it happened.
I looked back up at Kayla, but she had disappeared. Pretty fast for a weakened vampire. Morgan’s hair rustled for a moment, and at first I thought she had woken up. It took a few moments for me to realize it was just a quiet, small wind that had penetrated the woods. Gently, almost gingerly, I smoothed her hair out of her face. So much for Kayla’s prayer the night before. So much for something wonderful happening to us. I had done this to my first new friend. I had hurt her; had killed her. I was so stupid to think that I could have handled having human friends. It was like a starving man with a pet pig. Poor pig. Poor Morgan.
Her chest rose just then -only a little- and fell back slowly. Her first breath in her new life. In her after life. Then another breath, and another, the speed of her breathing starting alarmingly slow, picking up startlingly fast, and finally it evened out to a normal pace. Her eye cracked open just the slightest amount, then both of her eyes shot open with fear and misrecognition.
I stared back into her eyes, not knowing what to say. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped and let out a slight squeal. Embarrassing. I turned around to see Kayla crouching behind me.
“I can't believe this is happening," I told her, "Just kill me now."
"IDK what to say," She rhymed, "but I won't kill you, so don't tell me to again."
There was rustling behind me, no doubt a terrified Morgan shifting into a good position to make an escape. I turned back to her and grabbed her by both wrists. I could tell by her expression that she was about to scream.
"Shh, it's okay, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," I comforted her. I let go of her wrists and hugged her, smoothing her hair gently, "It's me, Lily."
She pulled slowly out of my embrace, looking around with wide eyes at what must seem now like an alien world to her.
"Lily?" She whispered, "You... You look different."
"No, sweetie, that's not it," I coaxed in a honey-thick voice, "you just see different."
Her breath was coming in quick, anxious pants now, and she was quivering with a nervousness I had never seen from her before. Granted I had only known her for three days. "No," She shook her head, "That's not possible, you're not Lily, she's not that nice."
So that's what they think of me? I couldn't help but glare at her for saying that, "You think I'm mean?" I asked with a cold, undermining irritation in my tone.
This time she hugged me, in her usual, crazy, hyper, Morgan the Moron way, "Yeah, you're my Lily alright!" She said, then fell backwards, a sudden stream of tears coursing down her cheeks, "What's going on?" She asked, covering her face with both hands.
I gently brought her back to sitting upright, for some reason only slightly worried about her mood flip-flops. "You're not a human anymore, you're a vampire," I answered her, "Welcome to Hell."
Kayla suddenly hit me in the back of my head, "We're trying to make this easier for her, not scare her!" She said, "Be nice."
Morgan blinked, looking at Kayla, "Who..."
"It's Kayla, you idiot!" I lashed, completely dropping all that was left of my earlier compassion.
Kayla hit me again, "Stop." She ordered.
I drew in a deep breath, "Sorry," I said. No wonder she thought I was mean. Why did she still like me? That girl is a mystery, "You're not in Hell," I didn't deny that she was an idiot... "I sort of lost control last night when you got hurt and now you're... a vampire." There, I said it. I get a gold star. I gave a large, too happy smile, "Other than that, everything is just fine, and perfectly normal."
Her eyes widened, but they weren't filled with horror as I had expected and anticipated, "So wait," She said, "You're saying I'm a vampire now?
"For the third time, yes." I groaned. She makes it so hard to be kind and understanding. You shouldn't look that excited when someone murders you! It's just plain rude!
Kayla stared at Morgan for a moment. "You aren't mad at Lily even a little?" She asked, bewildered.
"No way am I mad! Why would I be? It's the opposite. I love vampires, I've always wanted to be one. You know that, Kayla. Wow, I never thought they were actually real! This is so cool!" Morgan mushed, beginning to babble.
I felt the need to end her rant, before she began another string of babbling. "Morgan," I said, putting a hand haltingly on her shoulder, "you're babbling, stop."
She giggled and stood up. Kayla and I got up as well, attempting to brush of as much of the dirt, leaves, and dry, rust-colored blood as would come off our clothes.
"We should go in," I said, "to get cleaned up and maybe get some rest in a real bed if we have time. I think we could all use some of that."
Nobody spoke on the slow, long walk back to my house. Morgan stared vacantly into space and I noticed, looking to my other side, that Kayla was walking with a slight stagger. A distant and irritating voice in the back of my mind pointed out solemnly that Kayla's weakness and Morgan's death and rebirth were both completely my fault. That small voice nagged me through every silence that day, and it still haunts me sometimes, despite what I now know. I'll get to that later, though.
I noticed Morgan’s breathing was still shallow and quick, as if she feared something. Her hand fumbled mindlessly with the necklace she was wearing. It wasn't hard for me to figure her out. She claimed, speaking too loud, smiling too big, that she was happy and excited about her new found vampirism. But she was afraid; I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. That slightly too quick speech, the rising and lowering of the pitch of her voice. The vacant expression, the way she was blinking more than usual, faster than usual. I knew she was terrified, but I didn't know what to say to her.
So I said nothing.
The first thing I did when we got back to my house was check the time. It was about eight-thirty, so my mom wouldn't be home until about six that night and Ben probably around noon. That would most likely be more than enough time for us to get cleaned up without rushing.
"Alright," I said, handing Morgan and Kayla clean towels and washrags from the laundry room, "you guys can go ahead and take showers first. I'll start the laundry and when one of you gets out, you can take over the laundry and I'll get one. One of you can use the shower in the basement and the other can use the one upstairs."
Kayla immediately handed me her towel and washrag back, "You got dirtier than me, you need the shower more than I do. I'll start the laundry." She said.
I glanced at the large, still slightly fresh wound on her arm and realized that was probably the real reason she was so hesitant to get in the shower. It looked like it hurt without contact, I could only imagine how much pain running water would cause. I could have made her wash it out with Witch Hazel, but I knew a faster, more painless way to help her.
I opened the refrigerator and pulled out one of my blood-filled water bottles. "Drink this," I said, handing it to Kayla, "feel better."
Morgan and I both discarded our clothes in the laundry room and Morgan went to take a shower in the upstairs bathroom while I went downstairs to the basement bathroom. I could hear the laundry start upstairs, and soon after turned on the water for the shower.
I hopped in, washing all the blood and dirt off gratefully. I watched the bottom of the shower as the dark, red-brown water swirled around my feet, eventually reaching its final destination; the drain. I finally decided that I couldn't take the sight of it anymore; couldn't stand being reminded of what I had done, the nagging thought that kept repeating, "That's Morgan’s blood down there. Her life; and it's going down the drain," so I looked back up at the turquoise tile of the shower.
"I can't believe this is happening," I whispered aloud to myself, the words loud around me somehow, even over the roar of the water, "I'm sorry, Morgan."
She would probably realize sooner or later that it wasn't a gift to be a vampire, and I figured she would eventually hate me, unleashing all her anger on me for what I had done. I had a vivid picture in my mind of her picking me up one handed by the throat. I swear I couldn't breathe just thinking about it. Her hand squeezed tighter and tighter, and I was now gasping for breath out loud. Then, she pulled me in, alarmingly close to her face, so close I could feel her breath against my skin. But how could I feel her breathing? That soft, warm, feeling with a twist of violence distressing it, yet still, it was what it was. Her breath was brushing against my face, no mistake. And suddenly, she thrust out her hand and released me, sending me flying.
I hit the turquoise tile of my shower wall, suddenly transported back to my own home. My breath came in short gasps. What was that? I brought my hand up to my sore, tender neck. It actually hurt, I was even thrown into the wall.
I stood in shock for a few long minutes, letting the water cascade down my skin, warm and relaxing, but not calming enough to make sense of what had happened. Finally, I heard a yell from Kayla, "Lily, are you okay?"
"Yeah," I shouted back. I heard her go back upstairs and quickly washed my hair and rinsed myself off. I decided then to put that experience out of my mind for the time being.
Robotically, I pulled on some fresh, clean clothes. My mind was in another universe, and my body was only acting out what was simply a memorized routine. I took a deep breath as I stood dressed at the foot of the stairs. Water dripped from my hair onto my foot. I didn't want to go up, to face Morgan. I didn't trust myself not to cry.
I knew I had to suck it up, and I knew I was overreacting. I had to face what I had done. With a sigh, I pulled myself together and made my way up the stairs slowly.
Morgan was just coming down from the second floor as I came up to the first floor. She was prancing down the stairs in her usual way, only she seemed much more bubbly and graceful. I could easily see the vampire in her; it seemed almost like she was made to be one, or even born one. She was practically glowing, and even seemed happier than she had before. It seemed like she had been a vampire her whole life, the way she held herself. Her grace was amazing... until she fell face first on the last step of the stairs.
I ran to her and helped her up. "You truly have the grace of a potato." I told her, my face blank and expressionless.
"So you've told me," she laughed, pushing her wet hair out of her face.
I started to laugh too, but then I realized just what she had said and stopped. "Wait," I said, "I never said that before."
She furrowed her brow indignantly and stuck out her tongue at me, "I heard you last night when I fell in the go-kart path. Don't think I'm deaf."
"Morgan, I never said it out loud. I remember thinking it, but I didn't say anything," I said, "I was too distracted by... I was too distracted to say anything." I didn't quite want to blurt out 'I was too distracted by your blood.'
"Then you must have been thinking out loud." She said, shooting me an expression that screamed, 'and you say I'm forgetful?'
"Whatever," I said, tired of the conversation and unwilling to cause a full-out argument to start. I began to walk away, knowing she would be afraid of being left out and follow me. I had noticed the way she bounced around from table to table at lunch, getting into every conversation she could. It was obvious she liked attention.
Just like I thought, she followed; a lost puppy trotting along behind a child who had spared it a pat, tail between legs and its nose pointed down with its eyes looking up in that irresistibly cute expression. My own puppy. My Morgan.
I walked into the living room with Morgan still close behind. Kayla was sitting on the couch staring into space. The TV was turned off.
"Having fun?" I asked sarcastically.
She looked at me with a dazed expression, as if she had just emerged from a long nap and was still distorted and half asleep.
"Is the laundry done?" I asked, noticing that neither the washer nor the dryer was running in the laundry room.
She just pointed wordlessly at a folded pile of clothes on the coffee table.
"Okay, what’s wrong?" Morgan asked her, a sharp conviction in her voice. "Why won't you talk?"
"Nothing," Kayla said. Her voice was terrible, like a quieted version of the screech of metal against metal.
Morgan spoke up again almost immediately, "what happened to your voice?" She asked, practically screaming in alarm.
While Morgan had shouted that short outburst, I looked behind me, back into the kitchen. I found the answer to Morgan’s question, for there on the counter was the plastic bottle I had given Kayla, still full and unopened.
Kayla noticed I had seen it, "I don't need it," she said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than me, "I grew up a vampire surrounded by only humans. I have the self-control. I have the will power." her eyes were distant, yet focused, as if she was staring at something only she could see. The way she was speaking, like she was directing her words to someone who wasn't really there, I half expected her to start rocking back and forth. She stayed rigid.
"I don't care about your control, Kayla," I said, sounding much harsher than I meant, "you were already having trouble last night. Just as much trouble as I was, in fact. You can't go on in the condition you're in. Control isn't a factor when you're that weak."
She closed her eyes, "I'm fine," she breathed. As soon as the words were out, she swayed and fell over.
Morgan began to scream.
I shook Morgan, “She’ll be fine, but only if you stay calm.” I said. I shoved past her to grab the plastic bottle from the kitchen, then re-entered, crouching beside Kayla’s limp body, which had fallen off the couch onto the floor when she had passed out.
With hands that were somehow steady, I took the cap off the bottle and, supporting her head with one hand, lifted the bottle to Kayla’s lips. The red ran down either side of her cheeks, a stream of malevolent red lava. A gurgle came from her throat, and I quickly took the bottle from her lips. I cursed under my breath at my stupidity as I realized the liquid had gone to her lungs.
Loud, violent sobs were coming from Morgan at that point. I turned to her, for just an instant, “I won’t let her die!” I lashed, a whimsical oath that I hoped I could keep. I whipped back around to Kayla. I quickly flipped her onto her stomach and wrapped my arms around her waist, giving her my best attempt at the Heimlich maneuver. She sputtered and gurgled, but it just wasn’t working. “Wake up!” I screamed, crying. I flipped her over onto her back again. “Wake up.” I buried my face against her shoulder, “Please wake up.” I whispered.
Morgan screamed again, violent sobs shaking her. I looked at Kayla to see that her eyes had rolled back in her head. It was like a scene from a horror movie, the red of the blood contrasting against her pale skin, sticking in her matted hair. Her lips were stained red and slightly parted, quiet gurgles still coming from her throat. Her heartbeat had slowed to a faint thump, like quiet, slow footsteps sneaking across a room, growing less and less audible as the distance silences them.
“I can’t give up,” I said, more to myself than to Morgan. There was still a chance, and I had one last option.
I leaned in and desperately gave Kayla mouth-to-mouth. I was only semi-sure that I knew what I was doing. It was something I had seen on an old re-run of a forgotten TV show; pump her chest three times, then lean in and breathe for her. It was all I had to go on, and I prayed it would work. My prayers were answered.
It took quite a few breaths, but suddenly, Kayla’s eyes shot open and she started to cough straight into my mouth, the blood that had gone into her lungs and almost drowned her spilling out from her mouth and all over my clothes, and dripping even more into her hair and on her clothes. Morgan, sobbing and frantic, threw herself straight at Kayla, covering herself in the tainted blood as well.
I, on the other hand, leaned back against the coffee table, letting my head fall back. It was all too much for me. Morgan and Kayla both almost dying in a 24-hour time span was far too much stress. My tears came back, overwhelming my eyes and clouding my vision. They spilled over, running down my cheeks, but I stayed silent. The quiet tears exploded in my mouth with a salty warmth on my tongue. Could this all be a dream? An ongoing nightmare that I would soon wake up from and find myself back in Texas, warm in my bed. I would tell my mom about my dream and she would comfort me and kiss my forehead. Ben would take me for ice cream at the 24-hour parlor in town and tell me it was all going to be okay. Then he would promise me none of that would ever happen.
That promise is broken.
Morgan and Kayla had separated from their hug and were sitting silently. It was unbearably quiet and sullen, all of us avoiding eye contact with one another. The silence swallowed me, and I practically forgot where I was. Almost forgot Kayla and Morgan were there. My mind had wandered back to my old home in Texas. My friends, my family; my life. I wanted it all back.
“Go take a shower now, Kayla.” I said distantly. She looked at me just like she had before, with that dazed, just-woke-up look. She stood without a word and started to walk out, when I stopped her, “First,” I said, grabbing the half full bottle of cherry-red liquid, “Drink this.”
“No,” She whispered, refusing to look me in the eye, “I’m fine.”
“Reassure me,” I said, knowing that making her feel like I was the weak one and by doing me the favor she would be the strong one was the only way to get her to drink it.
She looked at me warily, and finally let out a defeated sigh as she took the bottle from my hand. She hesitated at first, but as soon as the bottle was to her lips, she lost control and chugged it faster than I had ever seen anyone drink. “Thanks,” I whispered.
Without a word, she handed the empty bottle back and walked out. I heard her footsteps thump down the stairs to the basement bathroom. The long, uncomfortable silence that followed made me want to pull my hair out.
“I’m sorry,” I finally whispered, my voice shaky and broken.
Morgan looked at me, her eyes red from crying. Against all odds, she shocked me with a warm, kind smile. “Don’t be,” She said, “Things happen. Nobody can be blamed for everything that’s happened.” She stood up, “I’ll be back, I want to change into my own clothes,” She looked down at the jeans and t-shirt of mine she was wearing, “I wouldn’t want to steal your stuff, and plus,” She added in a whisper, “Your jeans are a bit too small for me!”
I smiled, if you could call that thin, exasperated curve a smile. I didn’t say anything, and she walked out. My lips straightened back out into a drained, expressionless line.
My head pounded with each beat of my vampire heart. I needed to change also. To get out of the already dry and crusty blood all over my clothes. I needed a drink before I vomited from the vile taste of the coughed up blood in my mouth.
Pulling myself up took effort, but once I had reluctantly gotten to my feet, I had no problem walking into the kitchen for a glass of water, and then changing clothes. Once I was dressed, I walked back into the living room.
We had a small, washable, rug between our coffee table and our couch. The beige rug was now red.
I picked it up gingerly and thanked God that the blood had only gotten on the rug and not on my mom’s couch or cream carpet. My mom would kill me if I got a huge red stain on her carpet. With a gag, I threw the small rug into the washing machine, threw in some bleach, figuring white would be better than reddish-brown, and I dumped the cranberry juice we had in the refrigerator down the drain, preparing my story for Mom. I’m sorry Morgan’s so uncoordinated, Mom.
I realized, as I threw away the empty juice bottle, that Morgan was taking a long time. I walked into the hall to see that the bathroom door, where Morgan had gone to change, was open. I walked past the bathroom door and into the computer room, where Morgan was sitting in my computer chair on the internet.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She glanced at me, “Popping bloons with my dart monkeys.” She answered, looking back at the screen.
Does it get much weirder?
“Oh my gosh, I can afford the Super Monkey!” she screamed.
Yes, it does. It gets much, much weirder.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her away from the computer.
She stretched her arms as far as she could, reaching for the keyboard with all her might, “No!” She screamed, “I must pop the bloons! They’re getting away!” I pulled her hair harder, “Ow, ow, ow,” She complained. As we exited into the hall, she grabbed hold of the door frame, “Protect the tower, Super Monkey! Pop those bloons!”
She gave up once we were in the hall. Kayla was walking up the stairs as we walked into the kitchen. The color had returned to her cheeks.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
She looked away, and aside from the small flash of momentary sadness in her eyes, there was no expression on her face.
I was too quick to invite them over. I didn’t know them, and at that moment, I felt like they were complete strangers. Two people I had never met before in my life, standing with me in this room I had never been in before. It wasn’t my kitchen, that’s for sure. My kitchen was states away, all the way back in Texas.
“No more,” Kayla said, suddenly, as if she had been speaking all along. Morgan and I looked at her, “No more stress,” She continued, “No more drama. No more sadness. I can’t take anymore of it. Morgan and I are both leaving in a few hours, and all morning it’s been nothing but tears, blood, and death. No more.”
I doubted we could just turn things around like that, and I was about to voice that opinion when Morgan said, with a large grin on her face, “Teach me to be a vampire!” Kayla and I just stared at her, bewildered. She just shrugged off our shocked looks, and continued plainly, “You thought I was joking about being happy about this? This is what I’ve always wanted. Sure it’s stressing, but everything gets worse before it gets better, right? So, teach me. I’m your responsibility, now.”
She was right.
So I gave in, and Kayla and I taught her about being a vampire, starting with the Council of Lords.
“The vampire ‘higher authorities,’ so-to-speak, is called the Council of Lords,” Kayla began. We had migrated to the basement, and were sitting in a triangle on the floor, “They make the laws and everything for us vampires. To be a part of the council, you have to have at least one really strong power. There’s always ten vampires on the Council. And there’s always, no matter what, at least one senpyre on the Council. Senpyres know things. They just know. That’s their gift. I’m sure they know all about you by now.”
Morgan was wide-eyed and no doubt in awe, “I feel so stalked!” She squealed happily. I gave her an odd look. “In a good way.” She added.
“Anyway,” I said, before she could begin a string of babble, “Some of the laws are super-strict, like the Secrecy Policy laws. Pretty self explanatory; don’t let any humans find out about vampires. And others aren’t really enforced unless it’s a special case. Like being racist against humans. No big deal unless you try to wipe them all out.” I couldn’t help but blush bright red as I spoke of that. I would know all about hating humans.
Morgan shocked me with the question, “So, you were racist against humans?”
“Huh?” I gasped, bewildered. “Oh, well, yeah. I was. How did you know?” I asked, feeling a bit rude.
“I’m not stupid,” She said, and, knowing I would comment on my opinion of whether that statement was true or false, she continued hastily, “I can see through people easily. I’m a good judge of character, you know. It was obvious you hated me at first. It was obvious you hated everybody.” She glanced at Kayla, and back at me, “Some say that people change, but the truth is, you will always be who you are inside. It’s whether or not you choose to be who you are that sometimes changes. I just brought you out of yourself.”
As much as I wanted to convince myself her words made no sense, that it was just more of Morgan’s crazy babbling that normally flowed from her lips and wasn’t worth thinking deeper into, I knew that they really made more sense than any sentence I had ever heard her say. “Well,” I said, smiling warily, “Thank you.”
I heard the door open and close upstairs, “Lily?” Bens voice called from upstairs.
“In the basement!” I shouted, He appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hi,” I said, “How was biking?”
His face broke out in one of his bright-toothed, stubble-dimpled grins as he held up a first place trophy, “It was okay, I guess.” He said. I think he was trying to sound nonchalant, but his expression and voice betrayed him.
I laughed, “Congrats,” I hesitated after almost calling him ‘Ben,’ but I caught myself in time, “Good job, Dad.”
His grin widened more, though I hadn’t thought it possible. “I’m going to put it in my trophy case,” He said, running back upstairs.
“You don’t have a trophy case,” I called.
His reply came down, “I’ll build one!”
Morgan, Kayla, and I all busted out laughing.
It took a few minutes for my mind fog to clear, but as soon as I remembered the events from the night before, my eyes shot open. I sat up abruptly and looked around to see that I was still in the go-kart path. Kayla was nowhere to be seen and Morgan was a few feet from me, laying on the ground as a limp, lifeless corpse.
In no time at all I was up and by her side, praying I hadn't killed her. To turn someone into a vampire you would have to make them drink vampire blood. The vampire drinking the humans blood first was just so that the vampire wouldn't be weakened or killed from it themselves. I fell to my knees beside Morgan, putting my ear to her chest to listen for any sign of even the quietest breath. Nothing. But I wouldn't allow it. With tears already streaming silently down my cheeks, I fumbled with my nails, pressing them against my wrist in an attempt to get any size of scratch that would be enough to bleed at all. My hands were shaking too much, though, and I couldn't get my nails to enter my skin.
I pressed my ear to her chest again, trying desperately to hear any faint, barely audible heartbeat. Any small thump. Some near-silent pin drop. I heard nothing but the blood pounding in my own ears, "No," I sobbed, "No, this can't be happening. No, no, no." I collapsed on top of her, crying violently.
I didn't even remember Kayla existed until she materialized behind me. My breath caught in surprise when I felt the touch of her hand on my shoulder. I spun around to look at her through my teary, blurred vision. She looked weak, with bags under her eyes and her hair sticking up in random directions. She was swaying slightly on her feet.
"Don't worry," She said, flashing me a weak, ghost of a smile that held no humor, "I took care of her." She held up her arm, showing me a thin, long scar running from her wrist, almost to her elbow.
My mouth opened before I could think, "Are you insane?" Remember what I said before about vampires being weak if they give up their blood without drinking from a human? Yeah. That.
"You were kind of passed out," She snapped, "I didn't have much of a choice."
I let out a long, shuddering breath as I looked back at Morgan. She looked peaceful. Dead, rather than reborn. I realized then that, at any moment, she would wake, her heart beginning to beat with a new propel, her eyes seeing with a new focus, and all of her senses in general sharp, refined, and sensitive. I had never witnessed someone being turned into a vampire before, and I guess I technically hadn't still, considering I had been passed out when it happened.
I looked back up at Kayla, but she had disappeared. Pretty fast for a weakened vampire. Morgan’s hair rustled for a moment, and at first I thought she had woken up. It took a few moments for me to realize it was just a quiet, small wind that had penetrated the woods. Gently, almost gingerly, I smoothed her hair out of her face. So much for Kayla’s prayer the night before. So much for something wonderful happening to us. I had done this to my first new friend. I had hurt her; had killed her. I was so stupid to think that I could have handled having human friends. It was like a starving man with a pet pig. Poor pig. Poor Morgan.
Her chest rose just then -only a little- and fell back slowly. Her first breath in her new life. In her after life. Then another breath, and another, the speed of her breathing starting alarmingly slow, picking up startlingly fast, and finally it evened out to a normal pace. Her eye cracked open just the slightest amount, then both of her eyes shot open with fear and misrecognition.
I stared back into her eyes, not knowing what to say. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped and let out a slight squeal. Embarrassing. I turned around to see Kayla crouching behind me.
“I can't believe this is happening," I told her, "Just kill me now."
"IDK what to say," She rhymed, "but I won't kill you, so don't tell me to again."
There was rustling behind me, no doubt a terrified Morgan shifting into a good position to make an escape. I turned back to her and grabbed her by both wrists. I could tell by her expression that she was about to scream.
"Shh, it's okay, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," I comforted her. I let go of her wrists and hugged her, smoothing her hair gently, "It's me, Lily."
She pulled slowly out of my embrace, looking around with wide eyes at what must seem now like an alien world to her.
"Lily?" She whispered, "You... You look different."
"No, sweetie, that's not it," I coaxed in a honey-thick voice, "you just see different."
Her breath was coming in quick, anxious pants now, and she was quivering with a nervousness I had never seen from her before. Granted I had only known her for three days. "No," She shook her head, "That's not possible, you're not Lily, she's not that nice."
So that's what they think of me? I couldn't help but glare at her for saying that, "You think I'm mean?" I asked with a cold, undermining irritation in my tone.
This time she hugged me, in her usual, crazy, hyper, Morgan the Moron way, "Yeah, you're my Lily alright!" She said, then fell backwards, a sudden stream of tears coursing down her cheeks, "What's going on?" She asked, covering her face with both hands.
I gently brought her back to sitting upright, for some reason only slightly worried about her mood flip-flops. "You're not a human anymore, you're a vampire," I answered her, "Welcome to Hell."
Kayla suddenly hit me in the back of my head, "We're trying to make this easier for her, not scare her!" She said, "Be nice."
Morgan blinked, looking at Kayla, "Who..."
"It's Kayla, you idiot!" I lashed, completely dropping all that was left of my earlier compassion.
Kayla hit me again, "Stop." She ordered.
I drew in a deep breath, "Sorry," I said. No wonder she thought I was mean. Why did she still like me? That girl is a mystery, "You're not in Hell," I didn't deny that she was an idiot... "I sort of lost control last night when you got hurt and now you're... a vampire." There, I said it. I get a gold star. I gave a large, too happy smile, "Other than that, everything is just fine, and perfectly normal."
Her eyes widened, but they weren't filled with horror as I had expected and anticipated, "So wait," She said, "You're saying I'm a vampire now?
"For the third time, yes." I groaned. She makes it so hard to be kind and understanding. You shouldn't look that excited when someone murders you! It's just plain rude!
Kayla stared at Morgan for a moment. "You aren't mad at Lily even a little?" She asked, bewildered.
"No way am I mad! Why would I be? It's the opposite. I love vampires, I've always wanted to be one. You know that, Kayla. Wow, I never thought they were actually real! This is so cool!" Morgan mushed, beginning to babble.
I felt the need to end her rant, before she began another string of babbling. "Morgan," I said, putting a hand haltingly on her shoulder, "you're babbling, stop."
She giggled and stood up. Kayla and I got up as well, attempting to brush of as much of the dirt, leaves, and dry, rust-colored blood as would come off our clothes.
"We should go in," I said, "to get cleaned up and maybe get some rest in a real bed if we have time. I think we could all use some of that."
Nobody spoke on the slow, long walk back to my house. Morgan stared vacantly into space and I noticed, looking to my other side, that Kayla was walking with a slight stagger. A distant and irritating voice in the back of my mind pointed out solemnly that Kayla's weakness and Morgan's death and rebirth were both completely my fault. That small voice nagged me through every silence that day, and it still haunts me sometimes, despite what I now know. I'll get to that later, though.
I noticed Morgan’s breathing was still shallow and quick, as if she feared something. Her hand fumbled mindlessly with the necklace she was wearing. It wasn't hard for me to figure her out. She claimed, speaking too loud, smiling too big, that she was happy and excited about her new found vampirism. But she was afraid; I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. That slightly too quick speech, the rising and lowering of the pitch of her voice. The vacant expression, the way she was blinking more than usual, faster than usual. I knew she was terrified, but I didn't know what to say to her.
So I said nothing.
The first thing I did when we got back to my house was check the time. It was about eight-thirty, so my mom wouldn't be home until about six that night and Ben probably around noon. That would most likely be more than enough time for us to get cleaned up without rushing.
"Alright," I said, handing Morgan and Kayla clean towels and washrags from the laundry room, "you guys can go ahead and take showers first. I'll start the laundry and when one of you gets out, you can take over the laundry and I'll get one. One of you can use the shower in the basement and the other can use the one upstairs."
Kayla immediately handed me her towel and washrag back, "You got dirtier than me, you need the shower more than I do. I'll start the laundry." She said.
I glanced at the large, still slightly fresh wound on her arm and realized that was probably the real reason she was so hesitant to get in the shower. It looked like it hurt without contact, I could only imagine how much pain running water would cause. I could have made her wash it out with Witch Hazel, but I knew a faster, more painless way to help her.
I opened the refrigerator and pulled out one of my blood-filled water bottles. "Drink this," I said, handing it to Kayla, "feel better."
Morgan and I both discarded our clothes in the laundry room and Morgan went to take a shower in the upstairs bathroom while I went downstairs to the basement bathroom. I could hear the laundry start upstairs, and soon after turned on the water for the shower.
I hopped in, washing all the blood and dirt off gratefully. I watched the bottom of the shower as the dark, red-brown water swirled around my feet, eventually reaching its final destination; the drain. I finally decided that I couldn't take the sight of it anymore; couldn't stand being reminded of what I had done, the nagging thought that kept repeating, "That's Morgan’s blood down there. Her life; and it's going down the drain," so I looked back up at the turquoise tile of the shower.
"I can't believe this is happening," I whispered aloud to myself, the words loud around me somehow, even over the roar of the water, "I'm sorry, Morgan."
She would probably realize sooner or later that it wasn't a gift to be a vampire, and I figured she would eventually hate me, unleashing all her anger on me for what I had done. I had a vivid picture in my mind of her picking me up one handed by the throat. I swear I couldn't breathe just thinking about it. Her hand squeezed tighter and tighter, and I was now gasping for breath out loud. Then, she pulled me in, alarmingly close to her face, so close I could feel her breath against my skin. But how could I feel her breathing? That soft, warm, feeling with a twist of violence distressing it, yet still, it was what it was. Her breath was brushing against my face, no mistake. And suddenly, she thrust out her hand and released me, sending me flying.
I hit the turquoise tile of my shower wall, suddenly transported back to my own home. My breath came in short gasps. What was that? I brought my hand up to my sore, tender neck. It actually hurt, I was even thrown into the wall.
I stood in shock for a few long minutes, letting the water cascade down my skin, warm and relaxing, but not calming enough to make sense of what had happened. Finally, I heard a yell from Kayla, "Lily, are you okay?"
"Yeah," I shouted back. I heard her go back upstairs and quickly washed my hair and rinsed myself off. I decided then to put that experience out of my mind for the time being.
Robotically, I pulled on some fresh, clean clothes. My mind was in another universe, and my body was only acting out what was simply a memorized routine. I took a deep breath as I stood dressed at the foot of the stairs. Water dripped from my hair onto my foot. I didn't want to go up, to face Morgan. I didn't trust myself not to cry.
I knew I had to suck it up, and I knew I was overreacting. I had to face what I had done. With a sigh, I pulled myself together and made my way up the stairs slowly.
Morgan was just coming down from the second floor as I came up to the first floor. She was prancing down the stairs in her usual way, only she seemed much more bubbly and graceful. I could easily see the vampire in her; it seemed almost like she was made to be one, or even born one. She was practically glowing, and even seemed happier than she had before. It seemed like she had been a vampire her whole life, the way she held herself. Her grace was amazing... until she fell face first on the last step of the stairs.
I ran to her and helped her up. "You truly have the grace of a potato." I told her, my face blank and expressionless.
"So you've told me," she laughed, pushing her wet hair out of her face.
I started to laugh too, but then I realized just what she had said and stopped. "Wait," I said, "I never said that before."
She furrowed her brow indignantly and stuck out her tongue at me, "I heard you last night when I fell in the go-kart path. Don't think I'm deaf."
"Morgan, I never said it out loud. I remember thinking it, but I didn't say anything," I said, "I was too distracted by... I was too distracted to say anything." I didn't quite want to blurt out 'I was too distracted by your blood.'
"Then you must have been thinking out loud." She said, shooting me an expression that screamed, 'and you say I'm forgetful?'
"Whatever," I said, tired of the conversation and unwilling to cause a full-out argument to start. I began to walk away, knowing she would be afraid of being left out and follow me. I had noticed the way she bounced around from table to table at lunch, getting into every conversation she could. It was obvious she liked attention.
Just like I thought, she followed; a lost puppy trotting along behind a child who had spared it a pat, tail between legs and its nose pointed down with its eyes looking up in that irresistibly cute expression. My own puppy. My Morgan.
I walked into the living room with Morgan still close behind. Kayla was sitting on the couch staring into space. The TV was turned off.
"Having fun?" I asked sarcastically.
She looked at me with a dazed expression, as if she had just emerged from a long nap and was still distorted and half asleep.
"Is the laundry done?" I asked, noticing that neither the washer nor the dryer was running in the laundry room.
She just pointed wordlessly at a folded pile of clothes on the coffee table.
"Okay, what’s wrong?" Morgan asked her, a sharp conviction in her voice. "Why won't you talk?"
"Nothing," Kayla said. Her voice was terrible, like a quieted version of the screech of metal against metal.
Morgan spoke up again almost immediately, "what happened to your voice?" She asked, practically screaming in alarm.
While Morgan had shouted that short outburst, I looked behind me, back into the kitchen. I found the answer to Morgan’s question, for there on the counter was the plastic bottle I had given Kayla, still full and unopened.
Kayla noticed I had seen it, "I don't need it," she said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than me, "I grew up a vampire surrounded by only humans. I have the self-control. I have the will power." her eyes were distant, yet focused, as if she was staring at something only she could see. The way she was speaking, like she was directing her words to someone who wasn't really there, I half expected her to start rocking back and forth. She stayed rigid.
"I don't care about your control, Kayla," I said, sounding much harsher than I meant, "you were already having trouble last night. Just as much trouble as I was, in fact. You can't go on in the condition you're in. Control isn't a factor when you're that weak."
She closed her eyes, "I'm fine," she breathed. As soon as the words were out, she swayed and fell over.
Morgan began to scream.
I shook Morgan, “She’ll be fine, but only if you stay calm.” I said. I shoved past her to grab the plastic bottle from the kitchen, then re-entered, crouching beside Kayla’s limp body, which had fallen off the couch onto the floor when she had passed out.
With hands that were somehow steady, I took the cap off the bottle and, supporting her head with one hand, lifted the bottle to Kayla’s lips. The red ran down either side of her cheeks, a stream of malevolent red lava. A gurgle came from her throat, and I quickly took the bottle from her lips. I cursed under my breath at my stupidity as I realized the liquid had gone to her lungs.
Loud, violent sobs were coming from Morgan at that point. I turned to her, for just an instant, “I won’t let her die!” I lashed, a whimsical oath that I hoped I could keep. I whipped back around to Kayla. I quickly flipped her onto her stomach and wrapped my arms around her waist, giving her my best attempt at the Heimlich maneuver. She sputtered and gurgled, but it just wasn’t working. “Wake up!” I screamed, crying. I flipped her over onto her back again. “Wake up.” I buried my face against her shoulder, “Please wake up.” I whispered.
Morgan screamed again, violent sobs shaking her. I looked at Kayla to see that her eyes had rolled back in her head. It was like a scene from a horror movie, the red of the blood contrasting against her pale skin, sticking in her matted hair. Her lips were stained red and slightly parted, quiet gurgles still coming from her throat. Her heartbeat had slowed to a faint thump, like quiet, slow footsteps sneaking across a room, growing less and less audible as the distance silences them.
“I can’t give up,” I said, more to myself than to Morgan. There was still a chance, and I had one last option.
I leaned in and desperately gave Kayla mouth-to-mouth. I was only semi-sure that I knew what I was doing. It was something I had seen on an old re-run of a forgotten TV show; pump her chest three times, then lean in and breathe for her. It was all I had to go on, and I prayed it would work. My prayers were answered.
It took quite a few breaths, but suddenly, Kayla’s eyes shot open and she started to cough straight into my mouth, the blood that had gone into her lungs and almost drowned her spilling out from her mouth and all over my clothes, and dripping even more into her hair and on her clothes. Morgan, sobbing and frantic, threw herself straight at Kayla, covering herself in the tainted blood as well.
I, on the other hand, leaned back against the coffee table, letting my head fall back. It was all too much for me. Morgan and Kayla both almost dying in a 24-hour time span was far too much stress. My tears came back, overwhelming my eyes and clouding my vision. They spilled over, running down my cheeks, but I stayed silent. The quiet tears exploded in my mouth with a salty warmth on my tongue. Could this all be a dream? An ongoing nightmare that I would soon wake up from and find myself back in Texas, warm in my bed. I would tell my mom about my dream and she would comfort me and kiss my forehead. Ben would take me for ice cream at the 24-hour parlor in town and tell me it was all going to be okay. Then he would promise me none of that would ever happen.
That promise is broken.
Morgan and Kayla had separated from their hug and were sitting silently. It was unbearably quiet and sullen, all of us avoiding eye contact with one another. The silence swallowed me, and I practically forgot where I was. Almost forgot Kayla and Morgan were there. My mind had wandered back to my old home in Texas. My friends, my family; my life. I wanted it all back.
“Go take a shower now, Kayla.” I said distantly. She looked at me just like she had before, with that dazed, just-woke-up look. She stood without a word and started to walk out, when I stopped her, “First,” I said, grabbing the half full bottle of cherry-red liquid, “Drink this.”
“No,” She whispered, refusing to look me in the eye, “I’m fine.”
“Reassure me,” I said, knowing that making her feel like I was the weak one and by doing me the favor she would be the strong one was the only way to get her to drink it.
She looked at me warily, and finally let out a defeated sigh as she took the bottle from my hand. She hesitated at first, but as soon as the bottle was to her lips, she lost control and chugged it faster than I had ever seen anyone drink. “Thanks,” I whispered.
Without a word, she handed the empty bottle back and walked out. I heard her footsteps thump down the stairs to the basement bathroom. The long, uncomfortable silence that followed made me want to pull my hair out.
“I’m sorry,” I finally whispered, my voice shaky and broken.
Morgan looked at me, her eyes red from crying. Against all odds, she shocked me with a warm, kind smile. “Don’t be,” She said, “Things happen. Nobody can be blamed for everything that’s happened.” She stood up, “I’ll be back, I want to change into my own clothes,” She looked down at the jeans and t-shirt of mine she was wearing, “I wouldn’t want to steal your stuff, and plus,” She added in a whisper, “Your jeans are a bit too small for me!”
I smiled, if you could call that thin, exasperated curve a smile. I didn’t say anything, and she walked out. My lips straightened back out into a drained, expressionless line.
My head pounded with each beat of my vampire heart. I needed to change also. To get out of the already dry and crusty blood all over my clothes. I needed a drink before I vomited from the vile taste of the coughed up blood in my mouth.
Pulling myself up took effort, but once I had reluctantly gotten to my feet, I had no problem walking into the kitchen for a glass of water, and then changing clothes. Once I was dressed, I walked back into the living room.
We had a small, washable, rug between our coffee table and our couch. The beige rug was now red.
I picked it up gingerly and thanked God that the blood had only gotten on the rug and not on my mom’s couch or cream carpet. My mom would kill me if I got a huge red stain on her carpet. With a gag, I threw the small rug into the washing machine, threw in some bleach, figuring white would be better than reddish-brown, and I dumped the cranberry juice we had in the refrigerator down the drain, preparing my story for Mom. I’m sorry Morgan’s so uncoordinated, Mom.
I realized, as I threw away the empty juice bottle, that Morgan was taking a long time. I walked into the hall to see that the bathroom door, where Morgan had gone to change, was open. I walked past the bathroom door and into the computer room, where Morgan was sitting in my computer chair on the internet.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She glanced at me, “Popping bloons with my dart monkeys.” She answered, looking back at the screen.
Does it get much weirder?
“Oh my gosh, I can afford the Super Monkey!” she screamed.
Yes, it does. It gets much, much weirder.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her away from the computer.
She stretched her arms as far as she could, reaching for the keyboard with all her might, “No!” She screamed, “I must pop the bloons! They’re getting away!” I pulled her hair harder, “Ow, ow, ow,” She complained. As we exited into the hall, she grabbed hold of the door frame, “Protect the tower, Super Monkey! Pop those bloons!”
She gave up once we were in the hall. Kayla was walking up the stairs as we walked into the kitchen. The color had returned to her cheeks.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
She looked away, and aside from the small flash of momentary sadness in her eyes, there was no expression on her face.
I was too quick to invite them over. I didn’t know them, and at that moment, I felt like they were complete strangers. Two people I had never met before in my life, standing with me in this room I had never been in before. It wasn’t my kitchen, that’s for sure. My kitchen was states away, all the way back in Texas.
“No more,” Kayla said, suddenly, as if she had been speaking all along. Morgan and I looked at her, “No more stress,” She continued, “No more drama. No more sadness. I can’t take anymore of it. Morgan and I are both leaving in a few hours, and all morning it’s been nothing but tears, blood, and death. No more.”
I doubted we could just turn things around like that, and I was about to voice that opinion when Morgan said, with a large grin on her face, “Teach me to be a vampire!” Kayla and I just stared at her, bewildered. She just shrugged off our shocked looks, and continued plainly, “You thought I was joking about being happy about this? This is what I’ve always wanted. Sure it’s stressing, but everything gets worse before it gets better, right? So, teach me. I’m your responsibility, now.”
She was right.
So I gave in, and Kayla and I taught her about being a vampire, starting with the Council of Lords.
“The vampire ‘higher authorities,’ so-to-speak, is called the Council of Lords,” Kayla began. We had migrated to the basement, and were sitting in a triangle on the floor, “They make the laws and everything for us vampires. To be a part of the council, you have to have at least one really strong power. There’s always ten vampires on the Council. And there’s always, no matter what, at least one senpyre on the Council. Senpyres know things. They just know. That’s their gift. I’m sure they know all about you by now.”
Morgan was wide-eyed and no doubt in awe, “I feel so stalked!” She squealed happily. I gave her an odd look. “In a good way.” She added.
“Anyway,” I said, before she could begin a string of babble, “Some of the laws are super-strict, like the Secrecy Policy laws. Pretty self explanatory; don’t let any humans find out about vampires. And others aren’t really enforced unless it’s a special case. Like being racist against humans. No big deal unless you try to wipe them all out.” I couldn’t help but blush bright red as I spoke of that. I would know all about hating humans.
Morgan shocked me with the question, “So, you were racist against humans?”
“Huh?” I gasped, bewildered. “Oh, well, yeah. I was. How did you know?” I asked, feeling a bit rude.
“I’m not stupid,” She said, and, knowing I would comment on my opinion of whether that statement was true or false, she continued hastily, “I can see through people easily. I’m a good judge of character, you know. It was obvious you hated me at first. It was obvious you hated everybody.” She glanced at Kayla, and back at me, “Some say that people change, but the truth is, you will always be who you are inside. It’s whether or not you choose to be who you are that sometimes changes. I just brought you out of yourself.”
As much as I wanted to convince myself her words made no sense, that it was just more of Morgan’s crazy babbling that normally flowed from her lips and wasn’t worth thinking deeper into, I knew that they really made more sense than any sentence I had ever heard her say. “Well,” I said, smiling warily, “Thank you.”
I heard the door open and close upstairs, “Lily?” Bens voice called from upstairs.
“In the basement!” I shouted, He appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hi,” I said, “How was biking?”
His face broke out in one of his bright-toothed, stubble-dimpled grins as he held up a first place trophy, “It was okay, I guess.” He said. I think he was trying to sound nonchalant, but his expression and voice betrayed him.
I laughed, “Congrats,” I hesitated after almost calling him ‘Ben,’ but I caught myself in time, “Good job, Dad.”
His grin widened more, though I hadn’t thought it possible. “I’m going to put it in my trophy case,” He said, running back upstairs.
“You don’t have a trophy case,” I called.
His reply came down, “I’ll build one!”
Morgan, Kayla, and I all busted out laughing.