PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel
Halfquake:
Mania
Level:
74
Total kills:
19,884,443
Birthday:
00th 0000
|
|
| Diary of a vampire, entry 5 |
| Mood: | tired |
| Type: | Story |
| Added: | August 10th 2007, 05:43:22 |
| Visits: | 1439 |
| Series: | [ Diary of a vampire. ] |
| Rating: | 4.5/5 (Votes: 2) |
|
09/08/2007
Today was... interesting... to say the least. I slept practically all day, finally waking the the slam of the front door of the house. Immediately I panicked, thinking someone had finally come to check on my absent parents. My immediate reaction was escape. My eyes, still slow from my long rest, darted around the room, searching for an exit. Unfortunately the house I live in is very old so the top floor windows weren't open able, blocking escape. Presently I heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs leading to the landing. Instinctively I ducked into a low-crouch, facing the entry to my room. I felt an odd tingle and suddenly my eyes seemed to go slightly blurry. Just then my door swung open to reveal my mother, carrying a large laundry basket.
I was stunned, she seemed fine, almost happy. She was humming a tune beneath her breath as she entered the room, she glanced around the room and immediately I felt really stupid, crouched to attack or hide while she's in here evidently on one of her usual tasks around the house. She seemed so natural in the house I doubted for a second whether the events of yesterday had actually taken place. A quick glance at her neck, however, revealed two small, discrete bandages. She appeared to be looking for me, unable to see me despite the fact she glanced straight over me twice. Eventually she shrugged, and continued her tasks around the room. It was odd, watching this person who I had thought to be dead not a day ago continuing in their daily cycle as if nothing had changed. Soon though, she left, continuing her casual humming as she headed back downstairs.
I stood, having not moved from my crouch since her arrival – partly from the shock and partly of the fear of discovery. As I stood my vision flickered and focused again. Intrigued by the strange problem with my eyes I tried hiding again. For a moment nothing happened, then – just as I thought how silly I would look – my eyes shifted in the blurred vision again. I glanced down at my hands and saw nothing where they were. I could still feel them, waving in front of my eyes, but all I could see of them were thin trails of movement, the hint of an object in the air. Cautiously, focusing on looking as hidden as possible I tried standing. For a moment the effect held but as I stood I felt an unbearable itch under my eyelids, forcing me to blink. Suddenly I could see normally again and my hands appeared, shimmering for a second before returning to normality. I rested for a second, sitting back on my bed. Was this some sort of new ability, spawned from this same curse that effected me? I continued thinking on the nature of this new ability before realising with a jolt that I suddenly felt mildly thirsty again. How many times did a vampire have to drink to survive? I thought to myself. The speed at which I was thirsty again scared me. Would I be forced to prey again? The fact my mother appeared okay seemed like a good sign at least. Then a thought struck me: What if she, too, was now a vampire?
I resolved to speak to my mum, perhaps to find clues as to her apparent health. First though, I decided to shower and change. As I left the bathroom a thought struck me. I remembered the huge fangs which I had witnessed before, first on Hail and then on myself. Surely they would be a dead give away to my nature? They had been at least three times longer and more pointed then normal teeth. However, Glancing in the mirror I saw only my normal teeth, slightly yellowed from lack of brushing but otherwise completely normal. For the second time in two days I debated whether the events that had transformed me into a vampire had really happened. Confused thoughts swimming in my head, I went downstairs and found my mother placing dirty washing into the machine and my father at the kitchen table, eating what appeared to be some spiced variant of spaghetti polonaise. Beside his plate say a half empty glass of water, immediately quashing my theory that they might too be vampires. My mum noticed me and stood. “Well, it's about time you got up. I was beginning to think you'd sleep the whole night as day and I'd have to bring you to the 'specialist' limp and snoring,” She said, immediately dispelling any fear I had of her negative reaction to my prescence.
“Specialist?,” i asked.
“Yeah, the meeting last night really tired me and your father out so we missed our appointment with the psychiatrist. It's stupid really, how could anyone think someone like you is crazy? So what you get a little passionate at your works being treated like that... They had no right to treat you like that. I'm sure whatever it was it couldn't have been as bad as they say it was. At any rate we are to send you along to Dr. Frankov in about an hour, so make sure to grab some food and be ready by then. It's six now and we expect to be back by eleven.”
I merely grunted then grabbed some random pieces of food and retreated back to my room. My parents casual attitude indicated that they either didn't remember the events of yesterday or thought they were some distant dream. Both had been sporting bandages where I had bit them, dispelling my early confusion over the events of the past few days. Going to the psychiatrist was probably one of the most worrying things right now to me, but that could wait. First was the question of “human” food. From the glass of water next to my dad it was fair to assume that he wasn't a vampire, so whatever Hail had done must have been pretty unique. My own reaction to water had proved my digestive system may have changed dramatically and since I hadn't felt hungry since yesterday I looked doubtfully at the food on my plate. I felt instinctively that what was in front of me wasn't food for my new state. In order to remove any suspicion however I would have to keep this secret from my parents. That would mean disposing of this food secretly somehow. I resolved then to leave it and find some way of dealing with future meals. My mum would probably find it odd but not too suspicious having not eaten one meal. Besides – with my imminent trip to this psychiatrist her thoughts must've been all over the place anyhow.
The hour passed without too much fuss. I caught up on some news I'd missed on-line, the familiarity a comfort after all that had happened. Soon however, the time came. We left without much comment. While travelling I said little, despite subtle questions of what I would say to the psychiatrist from my mum. To change the subject I blurted out something that had been bothering me for a while. “Why do you have bandages on your neck, mum?” I asked. She self-consciously touched the points where my fangs had struck her. “I'm not sure” She replied after a short pause. “I think we may have some biting insects at home or something. I don't remember being bitten but there was a raised bump this morning so I put on the bandages.”
The rest of the trip was silent until we reached the psychiatrist. For some reason I had been expecting a woman, but greeting us as we entered his office was a young man, clean shaven and wearing a fashionable style of half-lens glasses. His appearance was not going to convince me of his intent, however, and he had a wall full of certificates – all which seemed to claim he had the ability to find people's hidden secrets. My secrets right now would probably either convince him of my insanity or make him call the police. I told myself I must watch what I say. Immediately he told my parents that they could not join in as they would influence my answers. I told them I didn't mind – the reason for me, being that it would make it easier to lie to him.
The meeting was fairly simple for the most part. He began by talking to me about myself, how I viewed myself in relation to my peers, if I had a girlfriend, my academic success. It seemed, however, that most questions seemed aimed towards finding something wrong with me, finding what I hate in life. I told him straight that if he really wanted to know he only had to ask. I doubt he was very experienced at his job because this just seemed to annoy him. I told him that what I really hated most in the whole world was probably hackers in on-line games – my no. 1 nemesis before having met Hail. He seemed to accept video games would be the answer to my violence and from then on focused on that subject making a typical argument between a “holier than thou” “Games brainwash children” type of idiot and me. By the end of our hour long session little progress had been made and he declared that I must attend a session again. After the long drive home I was declared I was tired and retreated up to my room. I am writing this entry with the full knowledge that tomorrow more challenges await my new form, but for now I have a bigger challenge. I thirst still. Tonight I hunt. Perhaps tomorrow I will visit Hail, but this time I shall not be unprepared. |
| You need to login to add comments and ratings.
| |
