You can take one thing

I dreamed I died last night. I don't know how I went. All I know is I was gone.

I didn't see a funeral. I didn't see a grave. I sat in a cafeteria, like the one from elementary school. I sat in white cargo pants with a white hoodie on. I sat on a shelf on the wall, my legs dangling down. I looked around at the people milling around. I am still not sure if they were dead or alive. They were very blurry to see.

I climbed down and walked to a door leading out. A girl stepped in my path. She reminded me I was dead. I thought about that and felt awful. I suddenly felt very bad for the people I had left behind. I was still young--21, you know--and I had so much left to do. I thought of my friend who had gone on a 2 year trip. He had told me he was sure I would get married before he returned. I wasn't married. And I wouldn't be there when he returned. I thought of my mom and how she must have cried. My Dad would have probably been very upset and quiet and reclusive. My sisters would have cried. My nephew, too young to understand, would have forgotten me. I hated that idea. My brothers would have felt sad and confused. I knew they might cry, but I didn't know if it would be in public or around any at all. I felt my death was a very bad thing for anyone who knew me. That it would only bring pain. My friends would be severely wounded by it.

I regretted not writing down the few days before my death. I did remember thinking to myself that if I had not gotten out of this or avoided that, it would have killed me. I remember narrowly escaping death a few times. I remember doing things and knowing, in my head, that I would never do that again. Giving things away more readily because I just knew it didn't matter. People could borrow anything they wanted. I sensed I wouldn't need it or want it again. I wished I had written all of that down so people could have known.

But the worst was that I couldn't even recall how I'd died.

Still, I turned to the girl and asked what came next. She told me I could go back to life (not alive, though) and bring one physical object with me. One. Of my choice. One thing that had been mine. She then opened the doors for me and off I went.

I came into life at my work, in the receiving warehouse. My coworkers were talking about my death. I realized it must have been very very recent. Once I had died, seemed to have no meaning. But back in life, it came back to me. Yes. I had died very recently. I suddenly wanted to ensure I never saw my family so I wouldn't have to see the hurt.

My coworkers were sad. Some showed it by scowling (Supervisor Christian), some were very quiet (Supervisor Jared, who had been in love with me, I suddenly realized), some cried privately (Laura, Brittany, Helen), and others avoided everyone else at work. I felt bad. I wanted to comfort them. I tried to, but I didn't exist. But I was sure that they could feel the slight comfort of my spiritual touch.

On to my home where I had spent my life. To my room I went, only to find my roommate putting everything into boxes for my family. She was pausing over some of my things to touch them gently and to sniff heavily. Jewelry went into boxes--I carefully watched her work, trying to decide what I wanted. I contemplated some earrings, but there was nothing sentimental in them for me. I looked at a ring my dad had given me. I clung to it until I could really decide. I looked away from my mourning friend and I looked at my books--still on the shelves. A book seemed like a good idea.

I suddenly recalled a book my sister had read to me when I was 13. Something my mom and sisters all loved to read. It was a fairy tale full of love and life and goodness. It hurt my heart to think of it because it hurt my heart to miss my family and the pain I gave them in dying.

I searched for the book and disappeared into eternity with it. I wish I could have taken the ring with me as well..

Men and their thoughts

Why should I care what a man thinks? Is he speaking it aloud? If he's speaking, I will listen. And I will care. If he is silently contemplating, why should I concern myself with his thoughts? They are unchangeable so long as they remain unexpressed. But I do care about what a man does. What he says about me. What he does concerning me. Is he pursuing me? I will concern myself with that. I try not to feel too much affection for a man who merely thinks about me. I will be interested in whomever I find interesting. But I will not be affectionate or long to be affectionate with a man who has shown no action or attention. I will not. I am a woman of action. But I do not act needlessly. I am a woman of thought. But I do not expect others to act simply because I think they should. A man of action can capture a woman's heart. But a man of thought remains alone in his mind.

Basis of love

What is love based on,
If not based on this?
A long stolen glance,
A forgotten chance,
A forbidden, sensual kiss?

Where is love based in,
If not in this place?
A hill with a view,
To stand next to you
Just loving your face.

What their love's based on
Is something unique.
Their days side by side
Pushing their lives
To stand cheek to cheek.
But close as they are
They simply don't see
That all of their time
Spent so sublime
Has put them in eternity.

Original me

Who is bound to who they were by what they're going to be?
I doubt you'll ever meet a soul as half as bound as me.

Judge me, slay me. I obey the Lord and serve His house.

I would bend time and space to give you wings.
Then you could fly like in your dreams.

I could describe my life with the lyrics from a few choice songs. But that would give everything away.

It's as if my body is trying to collapse in on itself. But the inside is full of knives, so every cave in is like death.

Little bunny foo foo has evolved into little bunny kung fu. Proceed with caution.

Browsing leaves my mind open to think of ways to break my own heart.

Sometimes I feel confused and upset. So I eat a pint of ice cream. Then I'm confused, upset, and sick. But the sick distracts me.

Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I see a bathtub in my bedroom.

Knee gave out. Proceeding to fall. Cannot move. Country being overrun as result.

Hard worker

You've got it all squared away,
Working hard every day,
You think you push against the boulders,
But I think you're doing just fine.
Your head set straight on your shoulders,
When it should be resting on mine.

Why you have to work so hard?
You shouldn't have to push it this far.
You should get the world on a platter,
From the start of your life to the end.
Your dreams, they should not have to shatter,
They should take flight on the wind.

Your hands are getting tired,
They shake like birdies wired.
You say your eyes are rimmed,
In red and pink and make you cry.
All I see are green eyes trimmed,
In softness, tenderness, and light.

And though you want to sleep,
Sleep forever, not a peep.
I know you'd miss your life,
Your friends and family and such.
You can handle all that strife,
But you don't depend on me that much.

Why you have to work so hard?
You shouldn't have to push it this far.
You should get the world on a platter,
From the start of your life to the end.
Your dreams, they should not have to shatter,
They should take flight on the wind.

You've got it all squared away,
Working hard every day,
You think you push against the boulders,
But I think you're doing just fine.
Your head set straight on your shoulders,
When it should be resting on mine.

Life is short

This is the life I'm looking for.
And I have asked you now to share it,
'Cause I really can't compare it.
It's everything I want to be and more.
But I have to close the door.

I didn't

I wish I didn't love you
Then I could be with you always
And not be destroyed
When I remember that
You don't love me
You don't want me
I wish I didn't choose you
Above all the rest
Because no one seems as good
Or as perfect
In my eyes
Or on paper
I wish I didn't need you
Then I could walk away
And forget you
And not long to run
Back to your shadow
Back to your voice
I wish I didn't love you
Then we could always be friends
I wish I didn't choose you
So I could have someone else
I wish I didn't need you
So I could live without you.

Say Stop, and Apologize

This town is cold. It's time to make our move. I loved you with a fire red yet I go nowhere. I think I'm moving, got me ten feet off the ground. Start to wonder why you're here, not there. You won't let go. Tell me that you're sorry, I'm staring down myself. Do you know where your heart is? That's not what you really need. All I need is the air I breathe. It's too late to apologize, every glance is killing me. I'm afraid. I'm standing down.

I've become what I can't be--heaven let me think was you. Some never thought I could better than you had it. I've got my heart set, but I just can't make a sound. Every one gets scared, take a shot for you. Don't fail me now, it's too late. Nothing's turned out how you want it. You'd give anything to get what's fair. Stop and stare. I'll take another chance. Do you see what I see? Do you think you can see it?

Stuck

I grow tired
Of waiting on you
I grow weary
Of dreaming about you
You're the one in my mind
At Night
You're the one in my head
All the time
And I'm tired of being the only one
It's really not that fun
This two way street
Is awfully neat
But It's no good
It's incomplete
When you
Won't make an effort to move
I've gone more than half
I watch you as you laugh
To see me do the work
All you do is shirk
I can't do this anymore
I won't drive anymore
I won't push anymore
I'm not welcome anymore
You know where I'll be
You can always come to see
You know how I feel
You can always make an appeal
But I won't expect you
And I won't regret you
Cause I never had you
And I only wanted you

Parts of me

I need to breathe,
But you were once my lung.
I need to sing,
But you were once my song.
And the tears they fall for you
The things we'll never do.
The face I will not see again,
The long way back to heaven.
I need to move,
But you were once my spine.
I need to think,
But you were once my mind.
Alone each time it seems.
Living in bad dreams
When you go you take the heart,
You take the parts of me.
I cannot reach without my hand,
I haven't got nerves to command.
I cannot move without my soul,
Had no choice, had to let it go.

Peaks and Jacks

“You know, I really don’t care what any of them think of me.” Diana began, nibbling her sandwich.
“Sure.” Garth mumbled from his sketchbook.
“It’s not me that I care about. No, don’t roll your eyes. It’s not me. It’s my drawings.”
Garth paused in his work and thought for a moment, his eyes glancing off to the right. He cocked his head finally, and said, “Interesting. Explain?” Before burying himself back into the drawing.
“I don’t mind that people don’t notice me when I’m going down the halls. I rather prefer it. I hate being stared at… But I really do wish I had some recognition for my art.”
A group of girls slinked by them, talking quickly and loudly. Their skins were all different shades of “bronze goddess” and their hair long and delightful.
“They make me sick.” Diana leaned sulkily against the wall in front of the art room.
“But you don’t care.”
“So? They still make me sick. They’re the same and they whine and they say stupid things.”
“Not all of them do, you know.”
“Not everyone likes me like they like you, Garth.”
“You don’t make the effort to stand out.”
“Are you saying you have the long hair just so people will see you?”
“No.”
“And always wearing shorts is you get their attention?”
“Nope.”
“But you said I don’t make the effort to stand out.”
“That’s because you don’t stand out naturally, like me.”
“…I hate you.”
“It’s not just you either, you know. You’re artwork doesn’t scream to be seen. It’s very good, and very technical. I love it! The lines are crisp and fine and you’re ideas are so creative and unique. But only artists can see and appreciate how amazing they are.” Garth folded his sketchbook back up and tucked it under an arm.
Diana felt the pangs of oblivion. As human being, Diana was content to be hidden from sight and go unnoticed. She didn’t mind walking down the hallways at school without anyone passing a second glance over her. She didn’t mind being ignored in class by classmates and teachers. And she didn’t mind that she only had one friend.
But, as an artist, Diana was discontent with how overlooked and unnoticed her artwork was. She minded terribly when no one asked what she was drawing in her notebooks. She minded horribly that no one, not even her teachers, complimented her when she won school contests and had her pieces displayed on every wall. And she minded wretchedly that she spent every after school in the art class, and every evening drawing and painting.
“Don’t let it get to you, though. When we’re out of high school, you’ll go to art school and suddenly things will open up and you’ll be seen.”
“Right…”
Garth flipped open the sketchbook again and eyed a piece. Then he turned it to Diana and asked, “Do you think Ashley will like this?”
Diana didn’t really look at the picture, only enough to see decaying corpse awkwardly positioned among flowers or something. Then she looked away again and stared at the courtyard, vaguely aware of a classmate dozing beneath a tree.
“Sure.” She muttered, sliding off the wall and slinking into the art room. Garth didn’t follow, she realized, half-pleased, half-sad. She kind of… wanted to be talked back into a good mood. But no one was going to coax her out of it, so she threw herself into designing a painting.
The day went on and she found she couldn’t even draw in her other classes. Her hand drew the wrong things, and she felt so much worse after each drawing, she eventually put the book away entirely and fell asleep in 7th period.
After school, as usual, she retreated to the art room. She threw on an apron and began a finger painting with her acrylics. As she waited for the second layer to dry, and as she wiped her hands on her rag towel, she heard a strong, yet quiet voice from the door.
“You aren’t invisible, you know.”
She turned to see a familiar looking guy in the doorway. He had dark hair and a slightly fitted vintage shirt on. His jeans fit his form snugly, and his eyes had a look of boredom and sarcasm. He seemed average enough, but she was sure he was in one of her classes.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, you aren’t invisible. You are actually very noticeable. But no one else has the maturity to see it yet. Not even your Garth.” She could remember now, he was the guy she had seen in the courtyard today.
“He’s my best friend, that’s all.”
“I didn’t imply anything.” His eyes narrowed and a smirk flew across his face. Diana was surprised to find her breath catch. So she turned her thoughts to her 7th period class.
“Aren’t you in my history class?” She began.
“Yes.”
“You’re Dominic… Peach?”
He frowned for an irritated moment, but it turned into a laughing frown. “Peak. Dominic Peak.”
“Oh, sorry. I don’t really listen much.”
“You’re Diana Jack.”
“Oh, you… know my name.”
“Like I said, you are actually quite noticeable.”
Suddenly aware she was blushing, she turned to straighten the pile of paintings beside her. “What did you want?”
“Not much. I just came to look.”
“Look?” She fumbled with the blue corner of a piece at the bottom of the stack.
“I enjoy looking at the things I like.”
Suddenly, a very large (yet surprisingly slim and strong looking) hand rested its fingertips on the topmost painting, a few inches from her fingers. She looked up sharply to see Dominic standing extremely close, looking at her with an intense small sort of smile (odd how his jaw had not looked so defined and smooth before. Had it always sloped into a long neck, or was it the light?)
“Things that I find beautiful.” He leaned in very close to her; his eyes (which she suddenly noticed were green with little gold flecks) were narrow and glittered. And she, finding her throat very tightly closed, swallowed audibly.
“Things that I would like to belong to me.” Diana was on the verge of falling backwards now, he was leaning so close to her. But suddenly he pulled back and looked at the painting beneath his fingers.
“What medium did you use on this?” He seemed utterly focused on the piece and not a bit on her, so she took the moment to catch her breath and unbutton her top button for some cooler air. It was certainly warm in the art room.
“Watercolor.” She whispered, now turning back to her acrylic piece that had dried.
She tried to ignore him as she mixed the cold, smooth paints on her tray into an eggplant sort of purple. But she was painfully aware that he was looking at her. So she mixed with more fervor.
Moments passed and she was halfway through the new layer when he spoke again.
“You thought I was talking about something else didn’t you?”
“Sure, this room is full of artwork.” She smeared a long smooth line with one finger.
“No, you thought I was talking about something you hadn’t made.”
“That’s possible considering I didn’t make over half the pieces in here.” Suddenly, she didn’t like the purple color, so she wiped her fingers onto her apron and went to the sink to wash her hands.
“True. But I think… you thought… you hoped… I was talking about you.”
Her hands were still wet when she turned to respond with “Oh please, I hardly know you.” But the words had hardly left her mouth as she turned to find him, once again, very close to her.
She jolted and leapt back, slipping slightly in the puddle beneath her. She fumbled with her hands and supported herself with the countertop. He placed his right hand over her left and his left hand over her right and leaned in very close. He was inches from her, and she could not bear to move, her heart pounding with such severity she thought she would pass out. But he stopped, a small smile forming.
“You don’t have to be so afraid. I won’t attack you.” He pulled back from her.
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then don’t be disappointed.”
“Seriously? I’m not.” She looked away now, thinking of glaciers and ice cream to distract from the heat that spread across her face and hands. She longed also, for the pit of her stomach to come back from wherever it had plummeted to after he had pulled away. And she scorned herself for all these stupid thoughts in her head.
“Well, in that case, I’ll see you around.” And he headed for the door.
As soon as he had turned away from her, she leaned forward slightly. And almost instantly, he turned back to her causing her to stiffen up again.
“By the way, what you are doing tonight?” He threw the words at her as effortlessly as he had picked up her painting. But they hit her like a wall.
“Um, tonight? I was going to… paint.”
“Oh, I see.” He didn’t move nor waver his gaze, which was heated and striking.
“W-why?” She could have kicked herself for asking.
“I wanted to take you out.”
Catching herself without even a stagger for him to see, she was grateful for the counter beneath her hands.
“Well, I’m sure I have time to go out. I can always paint tomorrow.” She couldn’t believe the things she was saying, and especially couldn’t believe the saucy way she was saying them.
But when he smiled, a genuine and open smile, she couldn’t help but smile back.
“Good. I’ll pick you up at six, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’s good for me. Do you know where I live?”
He chuckled, “Yeah. I got that one. Wear jeans, comfortable shoes, and your favorite T-shirt.”
He took a step toward her, but then hesitated. He furrowed his brow for a moment, and then strode quickly from the room.
And only after the last of his footsteps had silenced did Diana slide to the floor and laugh as she held her blushing cheeks.


Diana didn’t want to admit how much pleasure she got from telling Garth about her encounter with Dominic. But she couldn’t help but jump outrageously on her bed. She did her very best to look her sexiest because she knew she could be as sexy as he was (not that he was sexy) if she actually put in the effort.
So she was trying not to bounce off the walls when she heard the doorbell. But she tried to keep in mind she had only just met this guy and she probably shouldn’t have said yes to a date yet. But she couldn’t help but say yes to him. And when she saw him in her doorway that evening, she couldn’t help but be so glad she did.
On her front doorstep at exactly six o’clock, stood Dominic dressed in a different shirt (obviously a band shirt) but the same jeans (they fit him in a very nice way). She could really appreciate how good-looking he was now, in a way she hadn’t when she had first seen him. How his black hair, which was a few inches long, was obviously gelled only the slightest bit and sticking up in the most perfect of ways. And he was actually very tall and slim, but he had some defined muscles in his arms, and broadness to his chest. She wondered if she was at all up to par with this guy.
But from the way he stared at her with wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth, she guessed he liked what he saw well enough.
“Hey” she said, hoping to bring out his sarcasm. It worked well enough, for he snapped back to reality and smiled at her.
“Hey.” He reached out and took her hands, raising them up so he could get a good look at her. “I didn’t know you owned a shirt quite like that.”
“I didn’t know you paid attention to my wardrobe.” She smirked.
He dropped her hands and looked a little red, but he shrugged it off.
“Well, you’re actually—“
“Quite noticeable? So I’ve heard.” She was still amazed at how outgoing she was being. And apparently, he was too.
“You’ve suddenly developed a bit of a bite since this afternoon. I saw a preview of this, but I thought you were just shooing me away.”
“No, I’m actually quite vicious when I want to be. So, where are you taking me?” She closed her door behind her, and stepped into the moonlight beside him, trying desperately to ignore the butterflies fighting it out in her stomach.
“San Francisco.”


It turned out he was taking her to a concert in a small venue. The band that was headlining was one she had never heard of before but she fell in love with the music instantly and had a great time dancing with Dominic as he sang along with the audience. She had a blast; only feeling the butterflies acutely when he pulled her closer for some of the dancing or sang in her ear so she could understand the lyrics better. He bought her their newest album, which happened to be signed, and a band T-shirt that was to be worn “the next time we go out.”
They laughed and talked all the way to his car. Pleased to find she actually knew a lot of the bands he did, they talked mostly about music. When it began to rain very lightly, they started to run to the car. And it wasn’t until the car was is sight that she realized they were holding hands.
She stopped as soon as she realized it, but couldn’t let go. She just stared at the intertwined fingers, letting reality and wisdom smack her in the face. She dropped his hand. And the sky, as if paying attention her movements, opened up and it began to pour heavily.
“What’s wrong?” His voice called her to come back into the pink haze that had surrounded her since the afternoon. But she fought it. And he sensed the turmoil and did not even try to get out her out of the rain.
She had just met this guy. She went to high school with him, sure. She knew his name, yes. And, right, they had a lot in common. And, okay, he was very attractive. But she had only just met him! How could she be acting so friendly already? Was she that desperate to have someone of her own? Another glance at him, as soaking wet as he was, with these new eyes of discernment told her he was really as good looking as she thought. And her memory told her he was actually as awesome and fun as she remembered. But it couldn’t be this easy…
And as if he read her mind, he spoke.
“I know. It’s too perfect, isn’t it?”
She could only nod. A sniff escaped her.
“I probably should have waited to ask you out. But I wanted to take you to this particular band.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked like a little boy now, and she wanted to wrap her arms around him. But she did not move.
“You know why no one saw you?”
She shook her head, water flying everywhere, “More like, why did you see me?”
He took a step toward her.
“Because I could see how beautiful you are.”
Another step.
“And I knew how smart you were.”
One more step, and he’d run into her.
“And I knew how kind you were.”
He was right in front of her now, his warmth emanating. She shivered in the rain, but said to him, “How did you know all that? I didn’t talk in class. I didn’t really dress up at all. How did you see any of it?”
“I’ve seen every piece of artwork you’ve ever made.” He shuffled his feet as he looked down at her.
She felt a lightning spark up her spine, warming every inch of her. Someone had noticed her artwork! And Dominic had seen her in them!
“How?”
“The art teacher, Mr. Downey, is my uncle. First day of freshman year I went in and he was grading your first assignment. And it stayed with me. Forever. I—“ he stumbled over his words, shivering a little in the cold, “I went out of my way to find out who you were. And everyday, I’d go look at what you made after you had left. And every year, I’d hope to be in at least one class with you. I know it’s kind of creepy, now that I see it from this perspective.”
But Diana didn’t think it was creepy. She didn’t at all. She was burning up inside with this newfound knowledge that someone had valued her existence at school enough to hope for a glimpse of her. She loved that that person had turned out to be amazing and spectacular to be around...
“How come I never noticed you?” She had to shout now because the rain was so loud. “How come I never saw the awesome guy you are? We were in classes together for years and I only knew your name! How could I not have seen you? Was I that self-absorbed?”
“No!” He shouted, taking his hands from his pockets and placing them on her cheeks. “No.” He was very, very close to her face now. She could feel his breath on her cheeks, and she could hear him without him shouting. “No. You never saw me, because I didn’t want to be seen.”
“But why would you hide? Why didn’t you come to me freshmen year? Wouldn’t it have made high school so much better?” She whispered, feeling completely breathless.
“I was not who I wanted to be.” Dominic’s thumbs reached out and wiped her cheeks, an obvious attempt to smudge away dripping make up. He smiled, a shiver crossing his mouth. “I was not the kind of guy I wanted to be for you. I knew I could have come out and taken you. But I wanted…” He breathed deeply, “I wanted to be spectacular for you. In every way.”
Diana raised her hands to grip his soaking shirt, and shivered uncontrollably in the freezing rain.
“When we finally talked today, I had so many expectations and so many choice words to say. But as much as you were what I knew you were, you were also much more. I realized that you didn’t know me like I knew you, so you might not have chosen me after all. And even then, I saw so much of you I never knew, and I couldn’t back away. How you could look so innocent and look at me with those overpowering eyes that...” He shivered again. “It was overwhelming, and staggeringly hard not to kiss you that moment by the sink.” He breathed very deeply, his eyes searching her face. She felt that he could see into her soul and could read her like a book. It terrified her that he saw so much in who she was in her art. But thrilled her that he liked what he had seen enough to change.
“I like you.” He said. “I like you. I like you so much, I want to fall in love with you tomorrow.”
She smiled, her cheeks cupped perfectly in his hands. “Me too.”
She felt his hands soften on her skin, the fingers adjust to her jaw line as well, and then he kissed her fiercely on the mouth. She let go of his shirt and pushed him away for a moment, only until she had room to throw her arms around his neck. And he, in turn, wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her off the ground, kissing her so intensely, she felt dizzy and weightless

Walking

Where are you?
I am so lost as I wander
I meet people on the street
They walk with me and travel my way
But we separate always
Never to the same destination
I keep turning corners and finding dead ends
Backtracking, back to intersections
I keep looking for you
The remainder of my map
How can I find the treasure without you?
You are my ticket
How can I board my ship when it comes in?
I cannot find you
I hate to wait
My life so far has been good
But I am tired of waiting
Perhaps I must accept my wait
And that's when you will come
The dark side of my moon
Some people settle
Share their journey to the wrong place
Don't want to see what they could have
It might be later
They cannot wait
I must wait
I hate the wait
I loathe walking alone
My feet are tired and I want to rest
Resting will not bring you to me
Should you be traveling behind me
We will eventually fall in stride.

Politics

Politics does nothing to strengthen the human soul. It is a dark, twisted, perverted art, adding to mans follies and failures. Where God created good, just kings to rule, Satan created politics to corrupt them. For some, it is pornography--sick and disgusting, but they cannot help but watch. For others, it is cocaine--destructive and debilitating, they let it corrode them away. For the few remaining, it is the plague--to be avoided. Some of us try to fight it off, like a man fights a feral dog with a stick. Eventually, we all get scratched and bitten by it. We don't enjoy it. It turns men against each other. It requires us to tear each other down to prove ourselves correct. It is blackening and burning to our minds and souls.

The Oath of the Suffering

Cry out
Use what is left of your breath
Beg for help
The weakest thing you could do
Just lay here alone
Just cry alone
Don't bother other people
Breath comes and goes
Sounds to escape
Only puffs of air
Clutch at your heart
The heart cage
Hold tightly to what would break
Squeeze the drops from your vision
Grit your incisors
Writhe in your pain
Pain in the darkness
Darkness in sleep
Sleep in your bed
Sleep will not come
Lay in cold sweat
Writhe and twist in agony
Silently weep
Disturb no one
Hold in your cries
Hold tight

In pain

She lay in a bed, far from home. Her friends slept around her, but she breathed in pain. The snow outside was chilly but distant. Each breath was a struggle, a stab in her chest. She shifted to stop it, and cried out. On all sides they rose up, her friends by her now. Deep breaths, they say, you have to breathe. She cries in agony, hot tears in ache. She cannot speak into the phone. Her father on the other end tries to calm her. She can only weep as the ambulance arrives. She can hardly move as she stumbles downstairs. She rests on the shoulder of a friend. She curls up on the stairs waiting. The ambulance is silent, for it is the early morning. Still dark, the road is icy. She is cold now, when she was hot. She wears a coat loosely. A needle in her hand. Her blood pressure is sky high. A fever through her body. She can only writhe beneath the harness. The gurney is not soft, but she does not sense it there. The ride is short, despite the great distance. In the hospital, strangers ask the same questions. The pain is subsiding. They feed her hand medicines. She begins to feel anxious. Drinking vile smoothies, she wants to hurl. Anxiously writhing now, she cannot shake this feeling. More medicines to the hand. She sleeps. Awakened hours later under a machine. Photograph her stomach, they say. You'll be fine they say. She has no pain, so she believes them. But the next day, she's in pain. For the next few weeks she's in pain. A constant stabbing pain. She can bear it, usually. Sometimes she is crumpled on the floor in tears. And now, this moment, she lays on the floor. Tears around her, her body an explosion of glass shards. Alone, she calls for someone to save her. But no friends sleep near her now. No phone to beg for daddy. She suffers alone this night.

Concerning Jennifer

The words were said so carelessly,
Your friend has taken her life.
I wanted to deny this thing.
Make them take it back.
I wanted to throw things
I wanted to scream
To cut off my hair
To cry and to ream.
But all I could do
Was sit and to ponder
Of how much I missed you
An unsurpassable number.
I miss the way you smiled,
Or the way you did your hair.
You always were so trendy
A smiling, tender care.
You had a way of laughing,
That made me feel on top.
We used to be a threesome
Me, Annie, and you,
We went to school together
Made memories so true.
I don't want to cliché words,
I don't want to be cheesy.
But I miss you so much right now,
The words just won't come easy.
Some people said it right before,
So I'll say it right again.
I miss you here and now galore,
It aches an awful pain.
But I know with tearful faith,
I'll see you in the kingdom.
We've lost this little time,
But forever gives us freedom.

Week Eyes

When my week begins, a part of me dies. It curls up tightly and it cries and it cries. I get up each morning and look at my eyes. They always seem puffy and red rimmed and dry. I go to the places where people wear ties, they set up canvases and paint up some lies. Aiming for perfect I end up as "tries." Wasting my time on horrible guys. I wish I could wake up afloat in the skies, where weekends are endless like spiraling dyes. I'd wear them for ages until they were nigh, and left them there stripped and covered with flies. Eating my days away waist high in pies, I'd stare out with the window surrounded by sighs. So when my week starts, a part of me dies. And when it is ended, I come back alive.

Stages

The charm and sparkle has gone out of life. Everything I once loved to do is a card board cut out on a pathetically made stage. The clothes I loved to wear are dingy and cold. The music that I listen to is pointless and empty. The movies I would watch leave me bored within myself. All I have that feels real is this very painful ache inside my chest. It is physical pain, this ache. A hollow, reverberating echo. Filled with cold, dark smoke and fumes. It poisons me. I cry and cry to purify the filth, but it only seems to worsen. I sleep to ignore it, but I wake up more confused. I cannot dream. I loathe to eat. I hate to drive. To move. To think. I want to break things. I want to scream. But my voice is swallowed by the abyss inside my chest. I can barely whisper. I can hardly see through the tears. They don't fall and no one else can see them.

I am a walking hole, sucking in all that is good for no purpose or gain. My life is flimsy wallpaper and torn posters. My music is the drip of a faucet on the tin sink. My car is crate on an uphill slope. My movies are a flip book, only two pages long. My dreams are snails and ants. Everything is horrible and vile. I want nothing.

Nothing but you.

Before you, I was normal. As normal as I usually am. Used to be. Maybe never be again. You were not there. And I didn't even know it. That was my saving grace. But then you entered via stage right. And my glowing, glittering, elaborate set of a life--grew brighter. It seemed to expand. More actors! More music! More costumes! It was enchanting. And I didn't even know it was from you. I thought you were another actor. I was still waiting for the leading man. And for an entire act, you were the friend of the leading lady. But somehow--somehow--I fell in love with you. Until, quite suddenly, I was in your arms. All possible problems forgotten. The stage was fully lit, the entire world in bloom. My costume seemed to flower and glitter. All was a dream.

And again, in some way, your confusion was debilitating. You didn't expect to be my leading man. You didn't expect me to be your leading lady. You feared the audience. You feared the cast. The crew. Everyone else but me. My feelings were secondary to theirs. That was the knife through the heart in the final act. The poison in my ear. Entirely? The poison tipped sword to barely knick my flesh. A wound no single person can see, but slowly killing me. Until I awoke from this death to find my stage in shambles. The curtains torn and faded. My costume in pieces. The cast and crew gone. The audience remained, their eyes glued to the stage, thinking it was still the story. My carefully planned lines were suddenly wisps of smoke choking me and my dreams. My stage--my life. Ruined. I miss the color. The lights.

But I miss you the most. I would burn down the entire theater for you to remember me.

And so, with the charm and sparkle gone. With the stage destroyed and faded. With the costumes pathetic. The lines floated away. With all of this, I remain. My lovely lie of a life has faded and fallen to bits, leaving only the hole in my chest. How I die within myself.

Whatever I be

As I lay here on my bed, I imagine what I could be.
Whatever I could imagine, so long as it's not me.

I could be the ocean, vast and wide.
Tumbling through storms and throwing a tide.
Engulfing a universe of life, I would teem.
I'd cover the earth in an endless stream.
I'd sparkle in the sun and draw men to me.
They would swim and surf in my sea.

I could be a hummingbird and flt through the sky.
Entrancing the world as I zoom by.
My hearts beats so fast it sounds like a whir.
I'd shimmer and shine as I fly in a blur.
No creature could catch me, and why should they try.
I have a long beak on which they could die.

But I guess in the end, I'll end up the same.
Here on my bed all alone, once again.
Without any friends, my family has flown.
The boy who won't love me is off on his own.
So I'll lay here until I can no longer think.
Then I'll get up and go wash in the sink.

Candidates

Step right up, folks, step right up.
No need to be shy, I say, no need.
Take a good gander at what I have for you.
The finest in all the land, I insist!
Have you got a question?
I have an answer!
Let's solve your problems!
Just take a look at what I've got!
You can pick your favorite one!
At the end of the day, I'll let one of them free!
Your choice, folks, your choice!

Do you like the Elephants?
Aren't they strong!
Wouldn't you like one around the town square?
How useful!
This one here, is a little old.
But what doesn't get better with age!
Don't work him too hard, folks, he might not make it.
Or this one!
He's young and strong!
Doesn't he look good, so pristine?
Very healthy creature, fed on the healthiest of foods.
Ah, then there's this one!
Careful what you do around this one, folks.
He's very strict about what's good and bad!
There would never be a more wholesome town!
But make sure he stays out of trouble himself.

But wait, there's more!
Donkeys!
Don't eat as much as elephants!
True, they aren't as strong as elephants.
But they're smaller!
This one here is the only female of the lot!
She's a little shy, but she comes with a male donkey--for free!
Here's a unique donkey!
Never see another donkey, like this one here.
Acts almost like an elephant, really.
Here, look here!
This one looks familiar doesn't he?
That's right, he was a part of a package deal a few years back!
Now he's yours, if you want!

Okay, folks, which will it be?
An elephant or a donkey?
I'll give you one, and let it go.
You can keep it in your town square!
What?
What's that?
You don't want either?
Why not?
Elephants are noisy and messy?
I suppose that's true...
What about a donkey?
Too dangerous?
I guess so...
But it's free folks!
Come back!
Don't wander off!
Wait!

Why won't you pick an animal for yourselves...

Questions

Does he know what he wants? Will he ever really know what it is? Which part of him wants what the most? Will he care too much to try for real? Will he love to much to give a care? Will he screw the world and take this chance? Will he hang his head in shame and walk away? Where will he go if he turns away? Where will he go if he wants to stay? Will she open her arms up wide? Will she accept the changing mind? Will she give him all the time he says he needs? Or will she just move on? Is she impatient? Or is he worth it to her?

Strengths and weaknesses

She has a weak mind, she changes on a whim.
She has a weak heart, it flutters for him.
He is strong willed, he refuses to change.
He is strong stomached, steeled to the game.

She is strong spirited, she handles the pain.
She is strong standing, taking the strain.
He has a weak voice, a stumble and slur.
He has a weak knee, trembling for her.

A strong spirit gives volume to the weak voice,
A weak heart needs a strong will.
A strong stomach guides a weak mind,
A weak knee needs the strength to stand.

Raindrops and snowflakes

I am a rain drop.
Not a snowflake.
I'm not a leaf.
I am a gust of wind.
I'm not a rock.
I am a grain of sand.
I am a salty wave.
Not a cloud.
I am a tiny seed.
Not a flower.
I am a raindrop.
Not a snowflake.

Numbing

All the other times in my life... When I've been hurt by a man. Any other time I come to know I mean nothing to him--at those times, I hurt. I ache and cry and feel depressed. I want to be held and to eat chocolate. That's what I want. But this time..

I'm numb. I feel nothing. I'm not angry, though I want to be. I'm not sad, though I should be. I'm not hungry or tired. I'm not anything. I'm just a shell. I walk. I talk. I smile. But it's hollow. Empty. When I see him--that's when I have pain. That's when I lash out at the people around me.

In my bed, I lay wrapped in blankets. I never want to wake up. Not to move. Not to speak. Not to eat. Breathe. Blink. Just lay there infinitely, wrapped in warmth. Silence, please.

Numb silence.

Matt the Digger

(All stories are owned and copyrighted by me)

Alex stood outside the local motel with Brian and the other boys from her apartment—except Derek, of course. She sighed in her own sadness as she recalled his face, and then focused at her task. They stood in front of the soda machines under the awnings, each with a bucket of red paint. Part of her suspected Brian had a bucket of real blood, which is what they wanted to allude to, but she wasn’t going to confront him on it. It was raining and cold and she just wanted to do this and be done.
“Specialized Americans,” she said, reading from the note she had pulled from her pocket, “That’s what we have to write.” The boys seemed a little hesitant so Brian wrote a huge “S” right onto it with his fingers. The fresh smell of paint eased Alex’s mind, relieved that Brian wasn’t using real blood.
The boys didn’t want to participate, it seemed, so it was just Brian and her writing it. They were finishing the first word when one of the boys gave a yell. Alex and Brian turned to see someone walking in the rain. The boys were looking too, but seemed to be shaking. Who was this person?
A flash of lightning and the figure pulled the parka’s hood from his head. Alex saw the face of a young man. The streetlight showed not only his thick, brown hair, now flattening down from the rain, but also see his dark eyes. She had just finished thinking how good looking he was, when one of the boys yelled for everyone to run. And like mice, the boys scattered and flew in all directions. The one that flew by her—was that Mike? —He knocked her shoulder roughly, and she fell to the ground, scraping her hand with a sting. As he passed her, she heard him mutter, in a breathless sort of way, “Run. Just run. That’s Matt the Digger.”
Another flash of lightning lit the area, and as her stomach fell through, she saw the once dark eyes of the stranger turn to a reflective, cat-like blue.
---
Matt’s mind was blurred. He loathed the fog he was in, and loathed the man who had put him in it more. But he could not ignore the smell. The smell of someone’s blood—that girls’ blood. He inhaled deeply, quivering from how pure and delicious it smelled.
The smell had drawn him out of his hiding. He wished death upon his master once again, for confounding him those weeks ago; for blurring his once clear mind; for forcing him to hide himself away, as well. How he hated him.
But now that he was here, he understood. Once he had smelled her blood, it was so obvious. He hungered for her now, and his mind became clear enough to remember what his master had said.
“You are only allowed to bite one more person, and then you must never bite anyone ever again.”
The bitter feelings rose back up as he recalled this. Matt knew that he would eventually die if he didn’t bite anyone ever again. His master knew it too. He wanted to kill his master… And after he killed this girl and had her blood, he would have the clarity and the strength to do so. The smell of her blood alone defogged his eyes…
He looked at her as she wrote on the machine with her bizarre little friends. Their blood smelt as mud, disgusting and unworthy of his time when compared to hers which was like smelling a freshly baked cake, the icing soft and thick.
But then one of those muddy friends saw him and gave a yell. They all turned then and looked at him. No matter—she couldn’t run even if she tried. Now that he had her scent, he would catch her. But she didn’t try to run. Her friends all ran, except the tall one with her at the machine. That bizarre looking boy stayed beside her—master had told him to leave that boy alone. But he wouldn’t have to obey his master after he had her blood. He closed his eyes and shuddered from anticipation and looked back to her. One of her little friends had knocked her over in his need to flee. Knocked her over and cut open her hand…
She was starting to get up when she looked up at him. He stood only 10 feet away now, a distance he could close in a single second or less. He saw the fear that sprang into her eyes. He stared at the blood on her hand, fixated now by the color and now overwhelming scent.
“I’m allowed to bite one more person.” He said to her, “That’s what my master said. One more person.” Somehow, this statement shook the tall one and he took a step away from the girl and Matt. “One more person. I thought I could pick anyone… but now I know he meant you.”
In that instant, three things happened. Brian turned the corner and fled; the girl tried to scream; and Matt himself lunged at her.
Matt straddled her on the ground and used his hands to pin down her arms. She opened her mouth to attempt another scream, but no sound would come. Matt had to laugh, and that laugh put the most terrified look on her face. He laughed again. Then he leaned to her neck and smelled deeply. It was intoxicating how fantastic her blood smell. He just had to get enough to think clearly. Enough to gain control again. Not enough to kill her though… he wanted more eventually.
“Just enough,” he whispered and he plunged his fangs into her neck.
---
Brian felt like a coward for running from the scene, but the pit of his stomach had urged him to. He felt disgusted that he had abandoned Alex to the Digger, but there was no way he could have stayed. He realized would have had to watch her die and then be killed himself. No thank you.
He hadn’t been sure of whom it was until the guy had started talking about biting people. Brian’s love of all things occult had given him a perfect knowledge of the local superstitions so he knew it was Matt the Digger right away. And now he was running towards home in the rain, while his neighbor and friend was probably being drained dry by the crazy out of a ghost story.
Slowing to a jog, then to a walk, and finally stopping as his own pathetic actions washed over him, Brian wanted to throw up. How he could live with himself if he left her there, he did not know. How he could leave his best friend’s girlfriend there to die, he had no idea. Derek was his best friend and had disappeared weeks ago, leaving Alex depressed and forlorn. Brian did his best to take care of her, but she was inconsolable at times.
As he was trying to decide what to do, though, he heard Alex scream. High pitched, and bone chilling. He never thought he would feel his blood curdle, but it did. It felt suddenly thick and immovable. But Brian, fortunately, was not. He was running again, only back towards the monster and his friend.
When there were only a few corners left to turn, and his chest was heaving, Brian was startled by some movement in front of him. He stopped just as something fell from the rooftop. No, wait, it didn’t fall—it jumped. It, or rather he, landed softly, as if he had jumped from a low wall.
“Holy—“ Brian started, in surprise, “Derek! You scared me, man! You’re alive?”
“Obviously” Derek said coldly. That was Derek for you, as cold as December in Alaska. “Was that screaming Alex?”
Brian felt sick again, and nodded. Derek looked at him for only an instant, and then he turned on one foot and ran towards the scene. Brian knew Derek would knock him around pretty viciously for leaving her, if she was still alive. If she was dead… well, so was he. Derek was tall, strong and unforgiving in some matters. Especially concerning Alex.
As they arrived on the scene, Brian felt ill. The Digger had her pinned down and was biting her neck. She was struggling, though, which was a good sign. Brian took a step forward, but Derek threw out his arm and stopped him.
---
Derek walked around Matt until he was behind him. Then, Derek spoke.
“Matt.”
Matt didn’t stop, didn’t pause, and didn’t even react. How tiresome.
“Matt.”
Still nothing.
Derek was annoyed now, and he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gleaming, silver and black 9 mm pistol. He fired it into the air and then poked it into the back of Matt’s head, “Matthew!”
Matt stopped now and raised his head from Alex’s neck. He turned to look at Derek, letting go of her right hand. He propped his free hand on his thigh and looked at Derek as if annoyed himself. Derek didn’t care.
“Must we do this every time, Matt? Why can’t you just obey me?” Derek called, feeling tired and irked. He saw the shock on Brian’s face and narrowed his eyes. He’d deal with him later. “Get off of her.”
Matt moved his left leg over and off of her, and crouched beside her. She started to wiggle and crawl away, but Matt’s hand flew out and caught her by the collar of her shirt. The blood from the wound in her neck flowed freely and stained her shirt red and the ground beneath her scarlet. Derek couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was, despite the horrible circumstances.
“Help her up.”
Obediently, Matt stood himself and yanked her to her feet via the collar. She choked, but stood wobbling. Derek motioned with his free hand for Matt to give her to him. Matt’s face contorted in fury, but he obeyed. He almost tossed her to Derek, who caught her easily by the hand. He turned her around smoothly, until her back was pressed up against his chest and her arm was pulled across her body so she could not move.
“Are you still there, Alex?” He whispered in her ear. He hoped Matt had not taken too much of her blood, else her personality would be lost. But she nodded meekly and Derek was relieved. He turned his attention to Brian.
“My best friend.” He started, watching Brian jolt in surprise. “My disloyal, stupid best friend.” Brian looked confused now, which mingled nicely with the horror already in place.
“Confused? Really? That’s strange… Are you sure?” Derek mused, but was slightly disappointed that Brian didn’t seem to know. But then, for an instant, Derek saw the glint in Brian’s eye and knew Brian did know. Derek had to smile now. “I see you do know, don’t you? You sure had Alex fooled. You had everyone fooled, you idiot.”
Alex’s breathing was labored now, and Derek began to worry she would die. “Well, if you’ll wait for a moment while I save my girlfriend, I’ll deal with you.” The panic that flew across Brian’s face was very gratifying.
Derek leaned down to Alex’s neck, where the wound bled freely. He paused and took in the smell. It was gentle and soft, really—not intoxicating and overwhelming as the drug he’d given Matt had made it seem. Derek kissed the bite, drawing a little bit of blood out of it. With some of the blood sill in his mouth, he cut his fingertips on the blade at his belt. Then he brought the bleeding fingers to her mouth.
“Alex… drink some.”
She didn’t move.
“Please, Alex. Please… I don’t want you to die.”
She shook her head gently.
Derek hesitated, “Crap, you think I’m the bad guy.” He dropped her hand and let her arm fall. She staggered and he caught her. With his free arm, he carried her easily to the soda machine. He eased her down and leaned her against the machine.
Then he stood and turned to the two remaining—Matt and Brian.
“Matt… Why don’t you go to your Master? I won’t stop you.” Derek purred. Matt was visibly surprised, needless to say, but didn’t hesitate. He turned his head towards Brian, the animosity suddenly clear in every movement. He almost flew at Brian. Brian screamed as pushed him to the ground and began to drink his blood.
Alex screamed, and Derek turned sharply.
---
Alex was horrified—HORRIFIED—by what was happening. Derek was alive, but had ordered Matt the Digger to kill Brian! How could this be happening? How had to love of her life come to be this killer? She screamed.
As soon as she did, though, Derek called out to Matt.
“Wait, Matt, just stop for a bit!” Matt raised his head from Brian’s neck, looking annoyed.
“Wait for what? I’ve been waiting for this for 5 weeks, kid. I’m not waiting anymore.” And he went to drink some more. But Derek spoke up again.
“Just wait! Let me explain to Alex—the girl—what’s going on! I need Brian to do that. She won’t believe me without him. So just stop! You owe me for what you did!”
Alex felt confused and light headed. Matt growled and then threw Brian to the ground. Brian was covered in blood and crying. Alex wanted to grab him and run, but she couldn’t move herself. Derek took a step towards Brian, his fury radiating like heat.
“Why did you do this to me, Brian?”
Brian only whimpered.
“What purpose was there in leaving me to die?”
Still Brian did not respond, he just remained curled up and crying in his own blood.
“Brian, you’re going to die tonight. If Matt doesn’t kill you, I will. You won’t be able to escape.”
Alex wanted to scream at Derek to stop, but Brian suddenly stopped his quivering and whimpering. He raised his head from his chest, hatred oozing from his blood covered face. He staggered to his feet. Alex was confused and wanted to speak, but Brian cut her off.
“I just wanted you to die.”
“I did everything I could to make sure you died. I tried so many times, but you just wouldn’t. Pushing you from your roof didn’t kill you.”
Alex remembered when Derek had fallen from the roof. Three stories of falling and he managed to only break his leg.
“I tried “accidentally” stabbing you, but you survived.”
Brain had been so sorry then! How could it have been intentional? Alex’s mind spun.
“I even got someone to shoot you, but you just wouldn’t die!”
She’d been there for that. They were out and it was a drive by shooting. Everyone thought it was random…
“Do you hate me that much?” Derek muttered. Alex could see the pain in his face, disbelief outlining his features.
Brian quivered with fury, “Yes.”
“Was it for--Did you want Alex?”
“Yes.”
“I see…” Derek put his hand to his eyes for a moment. Then he raised the gun and pointed it at Brian. “Keep going.”
Brian eyed the gun nervously, but seemed propelled by his fury. “If you had just died then—you—you wouldn’t have had to die the way you did, you know! I only wanted you to get out of Alex’s life!”
“You moron! If you wanted me dead, you shouldn’t have made a deal with Matt! Have you noticed I’m still alive? I’m not dead now, you idiot! I’m immortal!”
Alex and Brian both froze. Alex because she realized what Matt and Derek both were. Brian, because he realized that Derek was right and that he had made him immortal. Brian opened his mouth to speak, but Matt spoke instead.
“Made a deal with me? You think that pathetic little concept of a man made a deal with me? Don’t make me sick. I don’t make deals with humans. I prefer to have as little to do with you as I can. Every year I need someone’s blood, but other than that—no thank you! But this little weasel found me, somehow, and cast a spell on me! He didn’t make a deal with me! He enslaved me! I haven’t had a thought of my own in two weeks.”
Brian suddenly sprang to life again, “Then how come you attacked her! I didn’t tell you to attack this girl! I told you to attack one person! Just one! Him! And you did, see? You already got him! So why did you go after her?”
Matt looked judgingly at Brian, blinking through narrow eyes.
“I can’t remember the first three weeks of my enslavement. That is part of the spell. You ordered me to bite one person and only one person before you cast the spell. You probably didn’t specify who to bite until after you’d cast it!”
Brian looked horrified.
“So while I did bite the person you ordered me to, I couldn’t remember doing it! So I thought I was allowed to bite one more person! And she was… irresistible.” He threw a hungry glance at Alex, causing her to shudder. But Derek stepped between the gaze.
“Keep your eyes away from her, Matt.” Derek raised the gun and pointed it menacingly at Matt.
Matt turned away towards Brian, bitter.
“Once I kill you, master, I’ll be free again. That man,” Matt pointed at Derek, “has promised to let me live if I keep away from his girl. I didn’t know his girl was the one with the good blood… But I’ve already had some, so I can survive without it, as much as I don’t want to.”
Brian looked pale and sick, but asked a question. “How did you meet Derek? I don’t understand…”
“I found him, Brian. You told him to hide, but I found him. I told him that he had turned me into one of his kind. He didn’t really care, but I… convinced him to tell me about you.” Derek fingered his gun.
“But that doesn’t matter anymore. Matt, I gave you a drug that enhanced your sense of smell. Alex’s blood won’t smell or taste as sweet tomorrow. Nor will the blood of others smell so foul. I apologize, but it was the only way to free you and get revenge against Brian for the three of us. I only ask that you take your revenge away from here. Brian… I pity you.” Then Derek turned from Brian and Matt and walked to Alex.
As soon as he had turned, Matt lunged at Brian. A brief struggled ensued and Matt dragged Brian off screaming.
Alex shook and cried by the soda machine, her blood pooled beneath her and congealed on her skin. Derek crouched besides her, looking sad and hopeful.
“I’m sorry I sent Matt after you… I had to… I didn’t want to. I would have sacrificed anyone and everyone else in the entire world if I could have. But the spell required the blood of the “prize.” Since you were what Brian was after, you were the prize… Do you hate me? I just wanted everything to be made right.”
She stared at him. The blood on his hand had been smeared on his face a bit. But she still saw Derek there. The man she had lost a month ago. She saw the fangs in his open, heavily breathing mouth, but she didn’t really care…
“I don’t hate you.”
He looked so relieved, she thought he might cry, so she reached out and put her arms around his neck. He pocketed the gun and picked her up. He leaned close to her and spoke softly, “It may not be the most romantic thing, but if you don’t drink some of my blood, you’ll die when the sun comes up.”
Alex thought about it for a moment, and then she positioned her face beneath his, still shaking from the entire trauma. “What could be more romantic that the mingling of blood between lovers?”
He kissed her under the awning, holding her in his arms, protecting her from the rain. And while they kissed, she gently bit his lip. He jumped from the bite, and pulled back, but she only licked the blood off her lips. He laughed and kissed her again.