I needed the comfort of my familiar surroundings. I missed the stale smell of cigarettes and coffee.
Would Fallon even understand if I told her? Could she? Vampires are works of fiction, not walking, talking people.
I tried to think of ways I could tell her what I was without her thinking I was a cold-blooded killer. If I ever see her again, can I make her understand the fact that blood keeps me alive? That I must feed every night, and because of that, I choose to feed from those who do harm to others?
Even to myself, it sounded stupid. I sounded like some form of bastardized superhero.
There was no use. I was not meant to deal with humans or society as an equal anymore. No matter how I thought about it, I knew there was no way she could accept it. I had hardly accepted it.
How could I still maintain a mortal friendship, being what I was? She would shun me, ask me how many I had killed, and secretly wonder if I would look to her for food.
If she didn’t run away screaming in terror, she might want to be turned, too, and I couldn’t pass this thing on to another person.
I’m damned now, only able to associate with those of my kind, if they will accept me.
The tears kept streaming down my face. I wiped them as they hit my cheek, noticing they had a faint brownish tinge to them. Blood.
I could do nothing anymore without blood. I cursed it. I don’t want to be this thing. I don’t want blood. I want to be normal again!
“Why did Fallon have to ditch me that night?” I sobbed.
And if you can believe all of those lies, there is some beautiful swamp land in Florida for sale…
Katie Salidas resides in Las Vegas, Nevada. Mother, wife, and author, she does try to do it all, often causing sleep deprivation and many nights passed out at the computer. Writing books is her passion, and she hopes that her passion will bring you hours of entertainment.
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