#long story short i’m banned from cutting my own hair & my mom refuses to do it for me -> i need a trim -> my parents can’t find out i got it

[dreamertrilogys]

augh why is it so hard to find a hair cutting place that does both men’s and women’s hair 😭

[buckskinblues]

I feel like a lot of people need to re-evaluate how they treat random Christians just because they have baggage. Listen, I get it. You don’t know how much I get it. But a complete stranger practicing their faith, who hasn’t said anything negative to you or about anyone, isn’t out to get you. The bible quotes they put on their social media aren’t going to make you bleed. They may be annoying and even cringe inducing (I know, I know I hate seeing all the bad edits on Facebook and people saying they’ll pray for me/someone/whatever but I solve this by simply not using Facebook because fuck Facebook seriously). But being Christian doesn’t make someone a bigot--being ignorant and hateful does. And it’s time people stopped thinking it was #woke to act like they’re the same thing. It isn’t acceptable behavior towards anyone of any other religion, so don’t make an exception here.

Like, I grew up in the Bible Belt™. My mom became Pentecostal/Apostolic when I was very young because my dad’s side of the family was (even though my dad never went to church or anything). If you were a girl you couldn’t wear pants, your skirts had to be below the knee, you couldn’t have more than two fingers from the collarbone of chest showing, you couldn’t wear sleeveless shirts, you couldn’t wear makeup or pierce your ears or paint your nails, you couldn’t cut your hair, if you wore jewelry it had to be very minimal and since you couldn’t get anything pierced it was usually just a necklace, if you were a boy you had to keep your hair short and be clean shaven (older guys could have a bit of a beard if it was groomed well). We didn’t just go to church. Church was every Sunday...two times every Sunday. A morning service and an evening service (and then people would usually go out to eat and socialize with other church goers on Sundays and by the time that was all over it was basically time for church again so it was like a church day all day long). But you also had one service on Saturday too! And open prayer night on Wednesdays. And you had to get dressed up in nice clothes for every single one. In the summer kids would be sent to church camp. Every year there was a big meeting where a bunch of people from all over a certain region would go travel to all go...to church together. It was just all church all the time. And the services usually lasted at least two hours. Sunday school and those dumb Christmas plays the kids do, cookouts at the church, church functions--you eat, sleep, live, and breathe church. All your friends go to church, all the social functions are connected to church. Church church church church church this word has no meaning anymore. It’s just noise.

I remember mom going through our clothes and throwing away all the pants we used to have because we weren’t allowed to wear them anymore. It’s one of my earliest memories. I remember always being excited to go to grandma’s house because she wasn’t religious later on in life (and even then she’d never been in any type so strict) and she’d let me play dress up and put on lipstick she no longer wore that often. Things that to some people on Tumblr would be a sign of “enforcing gender roles” but was liberating to me, in a way, because it was an aspect of femininity and “growing up” that was kept from me otherwise.

Harry fucking Potter was banned for being witchcraft. These people saw JKR as a literal evil witch in bed with the devil. I shit you not. It’s actually kind of ironic because the fanbase these days might be inclined to agree even if they’re only being hyperbolic. Pokemon was banned. Yu-Gi-Oh! was banned. I remember finding a YGO card somehow and feeling like I had stumbled across an occult artifact. The pull of the taboo was strong but it also felt like it was literally dangerous somehow because it was hammered in so much that these things were bad and would make you bad (now I have some YGO cards of my own...mostly just to have them. I don’t even play the game that much and I really suck at it). Later on when my mom let me read the Harry Potter books I had to keep them hidden from my dad and that side of the family for the time I was still forced to be in contact with them. I had to treat these shitty books like they were fucking contraband.

I remember when my mom was trying to go through a divorce, because she found out my dad was a pedophile (and that’s a whole other can of worms because a lot of the guys on his side of the family were also child molesters), the pastor at our church basically told her that she should stay with him because it’d be easy for him to find another wife. I remember how after the divorce we left the church because everyone looked down on my mom for leaving her husband and we “backslid”. All the people we’d ever known and had connections with just turned on us. The entirety of my dad’s side of the family pretty much disowned me even though I was their family. I don’t really care though because they pretty much all sucked. I found out a few years ago that my paternal grandma died. I didn’t give a shit.

I remember forgetting my dad had visitation on Wednesdays, and spending a lot of time earlier in the day painting my nails (something my mom let me do now that we weren’t part of the church but my dad--despite not going to church or ever praying or anything--still expected me to follow). And rushing inside from playing when I saw his truck coming and racing to wash it all off, shaking, because I was terrified of what would happen if he found out a little girl thought it was fun to have tacky red nails.

And my first exposure to what “being gay” was, was the story of my mom’s friend from the church whose husband “just left her one day and ran off with another man”. I don’t know his side of the story to this day but years later I suspect there is much more nuance to it than “man betrays his wife by suddenly deciding to be a sodomite out of the clear blue”. Everyone saw this woman as a victim of betrayal. But now I say “good for him”. He fucked off to Florida and never looked back. Wise.

It was backwards and suffocating. Growing up out in the middle of nowhere stuck in this environment (and on top of that autistic/ADHD and later on I’d discover bisexual) was...not good. So I get the baggage. I understand it on a visceral level. To this day I don’t go to church. I always refuse whenever my mom and step-dad go even if I know they go to a nice one that’s only on Sundays, and only for an hour, and people attend in casual wear. When people ask I simply say I’m not religious.

I could go on forever with weird and disturbing anecdotes like this. But I just really want to illustrate that I get it, I get it, I get it.

My point is that none of this shit I had to go through justifies me being hateful in turn to people just living their life and having a faith. Not all Christians are insane Pentecostals who think Harry Potter will turn your children into devil worshippers. So the next time you see a bible quote pop up on your Facebook, just sigh and keep scrolling. I really don’t see that much of a difference between Karen quoting Psalms whatever number and Becky posting an emoji spell likes charge reblogs cast or something.

[lights-up-divine]

Monster in the Night

Hey guys! So just finished with this one, and I am so excited to share it. I’m literally starting school tomorrow so expect this to be my last post for a couple of weeks.

This short story is about 6k words, I know, very long. But I love the premise and the story and I hope you will too. It’s about a newly turned vampire, Kiera, who is trying to survive in the city on her own while holding up her morales.

I braced myself as the butcher threw me out of the shop by the tattered collar of my grimy shirt. I wanted to turn around and deck him, just punch him in his big bearded face, but I knew better than to cause a scene. I couldn’t afford to get banned from another butcher shop. 

I clenched my teeth as my skull collided with the cold pavement. I could feel the slimy residue of the storm the previous night coat my hair and I could smell the moldy scent of mildew. I winced as I got up shaking from the bottom up and trying not to think about the state that my clothes must have been in. I looked at the scratches on my cold grey hands and noticed how badly I was shaking. I cursed as I stumbled into the dark alleyway to collect myself. I sat down on the dryest pile of boxes I could find clutching my backpack to my chest and trying to hold back my tears. Head in hands I felt a migraine coming on. I tried to stifle my pain as I ignored the squeaks of mice and the scattering of roaches. I knew that if I was going to make it to the end of the week if I needed to focus, but hunger was making my mind cloudy. Inhale, exhale, I took a deep breath and tried to focus my churning brain. Right now the only thing that I needed to focus on was how to get more money. Not on my ever-increasing bloodlust, not on my continued homelessness, not on the fact that I had lost everything in my life a few short months ago. The only thing I needed then and there was more blood, and the money I would use to buy it. 

When I finally got up off my butt and started walking it was around noon. Clouds blanketed the entire sky but I knew by the smell of the air and the calls of pigeons that it was about midday. I stalked silently down the busy streets, the people there giving me a wide berth. At the time I wasn’t sure if it was because my clothes were filthy or if they somehow knew that I was a vampire, but I didn’t mind the space all that much. I liked being alone, and being left alone so I encouraged the extra room. I walked down the stairs to the subway platform and smiled before it would have been impossible for me to get a seat, but now things were different. As the subway train pulled into the station I used the people’s repulsion toward me to push my way to the front and board the car fairly easily. As the car pulled out I closed my eyes and relaxed for what seemed like the first time all that week. I was a city native so the loud car blaring, low murmur of people in the streets, and the faint mellow sounds of pigeons cooing in the distance formed a sort of lullaby in my mind and lulled me into sleeplike calm. The train lurched to a stop and I reluctantly opened my eyes. I walked out of the underground and into the world above.

I was staring at a green oasis in the sea of rigid concrete. Union Park was my favorite place to go to escape everything. That was true before and after I was turned, and is still true to this day.I stepped out of the subway station and smiled for the first time all that week. My tattered sneakers carried me through the lush grass and I practically beamed as saw bright leaves dancing through the wind. The only thing that was missing was a bright sun in a blue autumn sky, but I knew that seeing sunlight was far too much to ask for anymore. I walked slowly through the park and embraced the quiet nature of the place. I sat down at a stiff wooden bench and did my best to lay down. I stared at the canopy and tried to think of how I could make money. I didn’t have time to do any odd jobs, and begging would take too long. I sighed and admitted to myself that my speculations were pointless. There was only one sure-fire way for me to make my money fast, and I already knew what it was.

I needed it to get darker before I could set my plan into motion so I gave in to my fatigue and laid my head down on the bench. It took a while for me to finally fall asleep. I tossed and turned trying fruitlessly to find a softer piece of wood for my head to rest on, before I finally gave up and realized that I would never truly be comfortable, not anymore. Defeated, I laid on the bench and tried to pretend that I was back home in my own bed, with the fan on, and my dog Dune resting peacefully by my head.

When I finally woke up it was later in the day and I felt at least somewhat rested. Even though my fatigue had ebbed, as I got up off the bench I heard my joints pop and crack. I sighed as I realized that sleeping on park benches was probably not the best thing for my back. I walked through the park once again and was relieved to see that it was still empty. I got to the public bathroom without any fuss and went into the women’s stall, making sure to lock the door behind me. Thankfully the park was never that popular so the bathroom was just regular dirty instead of a complete mess. Still, I got my change of clothes out my backpack and put them on as quickly as possible. Touching the sink gingerly I turned on the water and washed my face, making sure to rinse any gunk out of my hair as well. Even though I had heard that vampires were more resistant to disease than humans I still didn’t want to spend more time in that bathroom than I needed to. 

I stepped out of the stall and into the park once again. Pulling out my phone I typed in the password quickly and opened the camera app. I raised it above my head and looked into the screen. I didn’t know if it was just the lighting or the angle but my skin looked really gray. My shoulders slumped when I realized that it had something to do with my transformation or the fact that I hadn’t seen sunlight in months, probably a combination of both. Either way, I didn’t open the camera to look at the state of my skin, I opened it to see if my new outfit looked fancy enough. The eggshell white cotton sweater and green skirt combo wouldn’t fool anyone into thinking that I lived in a penthouse, but it did make me look solidly middle class, and that was what I was aiming for. I closed my phone with a smile and picked up my backpack. I walked confidently out of the park, and toward the subway station, the next part of my plan could begin.

As the subway train pulled into the station, I took a deep breath and plastered a serene smile on my face. For this plan to work, I needed to get into character. The moment I walked up the stairs and onto the streets it would be like I was on a stage. Even though I had quit theater a month before my transportation, I still liked to consider myself a good actress. And a good actress always prepares herself before she goes up on stage. I needed to look like I had no care in the world like I was just there to help.  I needed to really feel like I didn’t belong there like this was just a visit, nothing more. I closed my eyes one last time and walked up the stairs into what seemed like a different world entirely.

Instead of the close confines of throngs of people going about their lives, and the busy atmosphere of midtown where I got off seemed broken and desolate. There were cafes with boarded up windows and not a skyscraper in sight. I walked on a sidewalk that was cracked and in desperate need of a repair. I regarded buildings that were mostly old, corroding brick and weathered wood. Even if it was my first time there (and it wasn’t) I would have known that it was a bad part of town. More than the boarded-up windows and the cracked sidewalks what really told was the demeanor of the people. There were three to four people leaning against the walls of what seemed like each ally way, who eyed all of the passersby hungrily. Sitting on the streets were people wearing filthy dollar store clothes, and ratty jackets peeking out of their cheap tents, eyes empty. I walked around the town for a bit, regarding the homeless folk with a special interest. For me to properly act out the scene I couldn’t just choose anybody, I needed to be selective. I found one that looked right, and it didn’t take me long. There were so many people like him that I pretty much had my pick. 

“Excuse me, Sir?” I asked in a high voice as I bent down to talk with the old guy.

He looked up at me with searching brown eyes and sighed a long sad sigh, “What is it, Miss?”

I smiled sweet and fake as I pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill from my backpack and handed to the man, “I want you to have this!”

The old man shook his head and blocked my hand, saying that he couldn’t possibly take it. Externally I frowned, though on the inside I was beaming. Good, I thought, he had refused. From the cut of his hair to the smoldering embers in his brown eyes, I had been able to see right away that he was the proud type. The proud type was exactly what I needed for everything to go smoothly. He had played his part, albeit unknowingly, and now if I just stuck to the script everything would go as planned.

I thrust the twenty dollars into his face and did my best to convince the man to take it,“ It’s alright Sir, you need it more than me. And besides my mom says that giving back is the duty of the more fortunate among us. So please, Sir, take it.”

The man shook his head again, “No can do. It wouldn’t be right for me to take money from a kid, no matter how fortunate you are.”

Internally I groaned at the old man. I had already gotten all that I needed from him, I thought, just take the money already. 

I smiled stiffly as I tried to retain my composure as I pleaded with the man, “No please, Sir! Take it you need it more than me, I would hate to see you suffer!”

“Fine,” the man said as he roughly grabbed the twenty dollars out of my hand, “If you hate seeing me suffer so badly, then I’ll just take it.”

I smiled and took a deep breath as I prepared to say my final line. I needed to really sell the fact that I was fortunate and had money and that required some overacting. 

“Are you sure you don’t need more Sir,” I offered loudly, “I have plenty more to give.”

The old man waved me off and I was almost jumping for joy as I turned the corner and walked down a dark alley. The guys who were standing outside the ally had hopefully noticed the entire scene with me and the old man. I just hoped that they were smart enough to peg me as a happy-go-lucky girl with money and follow me down the alley. I had just begun suspecting that they were stupid and that I should try a different street when I heard a loud, false cough behind me.

I turned around and sighed with relief as I saw that the guys were behind me, “Thank god you guys were smart enough to follow me, I thought you guys would never show up.”

They were the usual street thugs, close-cropped hair, black clothes, I could tell from the looks in their eyes and their stances that they thought that they were the toughest people to ever walk the streets. I snickered as they turned to each other with confusion written all over their faces. Finally after a solid few seconds of blank staring the biggest one, obviously the leader stepped forward and roughly grabbed my arm with a gloved hand.

“Cut the small talk,” he growled, “Just give us your all your cash and you won’t get hurt.”

I snickered as I looked at him sideways. Now came the last part of my plan, usually either the hardest or most fun part. I grabbed the guys forearm and took a deep breath. Even with my vampire strength I still needed some concentration. I steadied myself and yanked hard on his forearm, throwing him roughly to the ground. His skull hit the concrete with a thud and blood started seeping out the impact wound. I stared at the scarlet liquid seeping out onto the ground and drooled. It had been so long since I had last drank and human blood had the sweetest aroma. Lost in thought I paid no mind to the guys who were now rushing at me. A fist to the jaw finally broke me out of my trance and my mind was back to the task at hand. I saw that the other three guys had surrounded me, leaving me no chance of escaping. It didn’t matter to me though, escaping wasn’t part of the plan. One of the guys aimed another punch at my jaw, but this time I was ready. I grabbed his hand and pulled his body downwards. This time I wasn’t going for a flip, I aimed the pull carefully so that the guys stomach collided perfectly with my knee making him clutch his stomach and sink to the ground. As I turned around one the guys aimed a kick to my ribs, and I used another grab. This time I grabbed his leg and pushed him forcefully, sending him barreling down to the ground, back first. Another cracked skull on the concrete, another guy down. I turned to face the remaining thief and found nothing but a shadow spiraling away from the alley.

“Tsk, coward,” I scoffed as I watched the guy high tail it away. I knew that it wasn’t worth it chasing him, I had all that I needed right there.

I turned to the collapse thieves on the pavement with a hungry grin. Shakily I bent down to the first guy and tried desperately to ignore the pooling blood. I was a vampire, so it was natural for me to drink blood, even still there was something about taking blood from another person that just seemed wrong to me, morally speaking. The last time I had drained a living being it hadn’t gone so well. Stealing was another issue, though. I justified my thievery by saying that these people would have robbed me if I had let them, though it still left a dark mark on my conscious.

It took all of my concentration to not start licking the blood off the ground as I rummaged through the guys' pockets. I pulled out his wallet and laughed with glee as I opened it, 100 dollars, cash. I rummaged through the other guy’s pockets with similar results. At the end of it, I come out with 400 dollars, all from a single gang. Even though I didn’t like stealing that much, I couldn’t deny the rewards. I thought of pulling the trick again, but the ever-increasing tremor in my spine made me reconsider. Now that I had the money I needed I knew that it was long past time for me to finally buy some blood. 

I got out of that part of town quickly, but not before stopping at a bathroom to change. As much as I loved wearing clean clothes, drinking blood was messy and I didn’t have money to spend on washing my clothes. A place to stay was pricey in the city, and I needed to save all that I could. I got on the subway with a satisfied sigh, knowing that my thirst would soon be quenched. 

I arrived at the butcher shop without any incident. There were a few stares as I lined up but no one tried to throw me out again. I waited in line for an excruciating ten minutes. The bitter metallic smell of animal blood invaded my nostrils and made me hungrier and hungrier. So much so that by the time I reached the counter, I couldn’t stop myself from trembling. 

“Four gallons, f-four gallons of cow blood, please.” I stuttered as I placed two hundred dollars on the counter.

The butcher looked at me strangely, eyebrows raised, eyes looking concerned, but eventually he went to the back to fulfill my request. When he emerged from the back carrying two double gallon container I could barely stop myself from jumping over the counter to get them. My breathing was heavy as he took the two hundred dollars and handed me the jugs. I stepped away from the counter and pressed the jugs to my chest. I felt comforted by their cool weight, they told me that everything would soon be okay. Even though I prefer my blood warm, I would take what I could get. I knew that I needed to ration if I didn’t want to come back next week, but my instincts took over and I couldn’t control myself. As my mind fogged over I tried to tell myself to wait, to at least get out of the shop before I started drinking, but my body wouldn’t listen. I watched as my hands  popped the top off of one of the jugs and brought it to my lips right there and then on the tile of the butcher shop. My body didn’t care about the stares, the looks of horror, or even the shrieks. All it knew was that it was fulfilling it’s bloodlust.

I would be the first one to tell you that the blood didn’t taste good. In fact, it was absolutely horrendous. It was bitter and dirty tasting, like licking iron soil. In fact, consciously I wanted to put the jug down and wash my mouth out with soap. But the vampire part of me craved it, needed it. That was the part of me that was still hungry even when I lowered the jug from my lips and put the cap back on. 

As I looked around the butcher shop I found that the people inside it were even more disgusted with me than usual. I knew that it was because I had just drunk a gallon of blood right in front of them, but it still stung. Next thing I knew I down on the concrete in front of the butcher shop with a badly bruised tailbone.

I stared at a now fuming butcher as he bellowed, “You, girl are banned! Now get out of here you wannabe, vampire, freak!”

I got up from the pavement and chuckled. Wannabe vampire, I thought with a sad grin, I wish I was a wannabe vampire. Every time I would go to sleep I would pray that everything in the past four months was just a bad dream. That I would wake up in my bed to my dog Dune barking and my mom making breakfast. I would give anything to rewrite my history. Pushing back tears I pulled out my phone from my now even more battered backpack and opened the notes app. I added Middle Side Butchers to places I was now banned from with a sigh. They were one of the few butcher shops in the city that sold blood I could actually tolerate drinking. I knew that I needed to find another soon before my blood supply ran out. 

I hopped on the subway and rode it only a short way before getting off. The area wasn’t as crowded as midtown, nor as shady as where I had beaten up those thieves. It was currently going downhill, so people were leaving left and right. That meant that there was enough foot traffic to make it safe, without it being overwhelming. I walked through the mostly deserted sidewalks and glanced around at the decently clean brick buildings. Pulling out my phone once again I used my maps app to find my way back. Along the way, I thought back to an issue that had been bugging me. Even though I hadn’t been home in a few months my mom was still paying my phone bill. I knew that my mom was forgetful, but I still liked to think that she still cared about me, even if she had thrown me out. I arrived at my destination and switched off my phone. It was a four story brick building that by my estimates had been abandoned for years. I went around the side and climbed up the fire escape. On the roof hundled next to a large air duct was my tent, weighed down by some loose bricks I had salvaged from a demolished townhouse. 

I unzipped the flap and went inside. One dollar thrift store blankets covered the yellow plastic floor and two overstuffed pillows joined them. Strewn about the tiny space was a portable charger, two empty jugs that used to contain blood, and a spare jacket. I laid down inside my space and connected my phone to the portable charger. My mind begged for rest, but I knew that I needed to refuse it for as long as possible. I couldn’t keep waiting for cloudy days to go out. If I was going to survive I knew that I needed to finally get a vampire sleep schedule. I groaned as I realized that if I was going to stay up all night I needed something to do, and that meant leaving my cozy tent and going out into the city. I checked the time and realized that I should start looking for butcher shops. It was almost time for places to close and if I wanted to find one before that, I knew I needed to start then. I steeled myself, pulled on my jacket and stepped out into the cloudy twilight. 

I decided to head to old town, I heard that there were a lot of butcher shops open there. I walked briskly one foot in front of the other, head down, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. With my sensitive hearing, my ears picked up the chatter of the crowd and the engine garble. I followed my nose to a particular scent which I assumed to blood, but when I finally looked up I wasn’t where I was expecting to be. 

“Yorkie Harmon Public Library,” the sign proclaimed.

I groaned and realized that I must have been just following my feet all of that time, muscle memory was strong after all. I smiled and I remembered all of the times my mom had dragged me there, saying that I needed a quiet place to study. I chuckled and reminisced about how there was never much studying, but always a lot of fun. As I started walking in the direction of an actual butcher shop I wondered if my mom was doing well. Even though she hadn’t depended on me financially, I knew that my mom must have been having a hard time without me, especially since Dune was gone too. She had always loved talking Dune out on walks.  A part of my mind wanted my mom to be struggling, after all, I didn’t just leave, I had been kicked out, by my own mom no less. Though, I mused, it was pretty much my own fault.

As I followed the smell of blood to the butcher shop, I remembered that my friend had invited me to a party. The old me was so excited, I had been trying desperately to be cool. I quit theater and stopped going to the library as much. Finally, it seemed like my work was paying off. I had spent practically the entire day preparing. Prepping my outfit, practicing my dance moves, rehearsing who I was going to talk to and how I was going to talk to them. My mom had originally been apprehensive but eventually was no match for my supreme powers of persuasion. I giggled and thought about the hour I spent thinking up my argument.  As long as I was back by eleven and didn’t drink any alcohol my mom was allowing me to go. Even though I didn’t know how strictly I was going to follow those rules, I didn’t protest, I knew that it was either go with the rules or stay home. When I got the party it was exactly what I had imagined. Darkroom, rainbow lights, mellow dance music on the speakers, I loved every second of it. Until he came along.

I looked up and found that I had already reached the first stop. Gorgon’s Butchery, I read. Opening the doors carefully I stepped inside and was greeted by a muscular woman wearing a leather apron. I approached her cautiously and asked about the shop’s blood sales. I was a bit deflated when the woman told me that they didn’t sell any animal blood of any kind at that store. Not even pig blood. I left the shop and tried to be hopeful on my way to the next place. 

As I was searching for the next butcher shop my mind wandered back to the night I had been turned. At the party, I was approached by a guy. His face was clean shaven and smooth, his hair pulled up and back into a dark messy bun. I had been fascinated by him and flattered that he decided to talk to me of all of the people who were at that party. He had pulled me upstairs and into a bedroom. At this point warning bells had started flashing in my mind, though there was no way I would have guessed what was about to transpire. I quickly asserted that I wasn’t interested in him that way, and he had laughed. Even then, four months later, the words he said next haunted me.

“You don’t even know what’s comin’” He smiled darkly.

The next thing I knew I was waking up the next morning, limbs sprawled all over the bed. I could barely remember the night before, and my vision was blurry. My body was throbbing all over and there was blood on the sheets. I felt faint and woozy. I had the owner of the house call me a cab back home. As I sat in the back, my exhausted brain tried to think of a good excuse to give my mom. When I returned home at eight o’clock the next morning with no excuse and a feeble apology my mom had grounded me and sentenced me to spend the rest of the day trapped in my bedroom. I hadn’t really minded the rest then, though now I was thankful for it. I hadn’t known it at the time but that was the last time I had slept peacefully in my own bed.

I walked into the next butcher shop and waited for someone I could talk to come out. This time I was elated when I heard that they sold blood, by the gallon. Though my spirits fell severely when I heard that they only sold pig’s blood. I had sampled many varieties of blood in the past several months and one thing that I was certain about was my hatred of pigs' blood. Even though the sun was rapidly setting underneath the cloud cover I knew that if I ran I could get in one last butcher shop before nightfall.

My feet pounded the pavement, and I thought about the sickness. During my grounding after the party, I had barely been able to get out of bed. At first, I had no appetite and even a cup of water was too much for my stomach, then I was ravenous, it seemed like nothing in the world could satisfy my hunger. My mom did her best to try to take care of me, but she had to work so most of the time it was just me and Dune, my dog. I had to slow my pace as I thought of what had happened to Dune. My hunger had been growing worse and even though I was insatiable the thought of eating made me nauseous. The only thing that distracted me from my pain was playing with and petting Dune. 

One night I had been energized and stir crazy, I had taken to pacing around the living room and clutching my roaring stomach. Dune chased after me as I went around and around, knowing in her instinctual dog brain that something was wrong. After hours of pacing and trying to suppress the pain, my mind was clouded and dim. I knew that if I didn't do something that I would go crazy if I hadn’t already become insane. I had regarded Dune with wild eyes and let my instincts and drives taint my thinking. I had called the pup over, looked into her eyes and saw the infinite trust the dog had in me. At that moment I thought nothing of living breathing creature in my arms, and only of my own hunger. Not even stopping to guess what I was doing, I stuck out my now sharp incisors and pierced the pup’s soft flesh. Dune had struggled and wined, but slowly, ever so slowly, her strength began to fade until I was left draining a limp corpse. Consciously I knew that the blood tasted rancid and acidic, but my subconscious couldn’t get enough. That’s how my mom found me, curled up on the living room floor my teeth still deep inside my now dead dog. Next thing I know I was out of the street with nothing but my backpack and a change of clothes, staring at the face of my horrified mom.

I got the final butcher shop just as the owner was standing outside and locking the front door. I asked him about blood and with a firm headshake he told me that they didn’t sell any. I walked away and weighed my options, it was either pig’s blood, or starve. Though, I thought, I did have one option if I was really desperate.

When I had been walking away from my home and trying desperately to think of somewhere to go someone had tapped me on the shoulder. Thinking that it was my mom I turned around gleefully and recoiled in horror as I saw his face. Some subtle had grown on the once bare cheeks but I recognized the guy from the party, the one I now knew had turned me into a vampire.

“Come on, “He gestured as he started walking, “My place isn’t far from here.”

I clutched my backpack and spit in his face, “I’m not going anyway with you, monster!”

He laughed, “Don’t get fussy, Kiera we’re both monsters now. You were just kicked out and you have nowhere to go. If you come now I’ll even teach you how to drink from an actual person. Dog blood is good in a pinch, but tastes hella nasty”

Hot tears pricked my face as I looked into the guys' dark eyes in defiance, “I will never be a monster like you, and I will never drink human blood! Just LEAVE ME ALONE!”

As I stomped away the guy yelled that I would always be welcome and I held myself back from shouting something in return. I remembered the entire incident like it was yesterday. I remembered gazing at the night sky and telling myself firmly that there was no way that I would ever drink human blood. I didn’t want to be like the monster who had made me kill my dog,  I didn’t want to be a monster.

I walked down the shadowy city blocks and regarded the growing moonlight as it seeped through the clouds. I thought about my mom, without me and Dune my mom would be all alone. Every rainy night, every hard bench bed, I had thought about just going back home, but I knew that I couldn’t. I knew my mom well, and I knew that she would never accept me as I am now, she could never accept me as a vampire. 

I got back to my rooftop without incident and was surprised to see the silhouettes of people moving around up there. Thinking that they were city workers or repair people I quickly dashed up the fire escape. When I finally pulled myself onto the roof I gritted my teeth. Six guys, none of them wearing any sort of uniform of any kind were trashing my tent. The yellow plastic was ripped and my blankets were strewn out everywhere. I rushed towards them and geared myself for a fight.

“What are you-” I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence before someone came at me from behind and hit the back of my head.

I turned around, floor spinning dizzy and regarded the person who had just hit me. He was tall and muscular, with a cruel smile emblazoned on his tan face. I pushed him down and made sure he was knocked out, but by the time I finished with him the rest of the guys had come over. They started beating on me. Punches and kicks were thrown my way and I did my best to dodge most of them. But five against one was hard and I was losing ground. One landed a heavy roundhouse kick to my stomach and knocked me off balance, sending me stumbling backward. One of the guys got in front of me and I caught the punch that was being thrown my way. I used my signature move and used his arm as leverage to throw him to the ground. As I was leaning forward, making sure my victim was out, disaster struck. One of the guys came up behind me and landed a solid kick on my back. I landed face-first on the concrete and tasted my own dark blood in my mouth. I heard the remaining three guys laugh as one of them place his boot on my head and pushed down. 

I tried to roll over and fight, but I didn’t have the strength. I was tired, I was hungry, I had been living on the streets for months. I blinked back tears as I heard the words “kill her” thrown around. I felt more helpless than I had in months. For months I had tried to live on my own, to survive, but it seemed like that was coming to an end. I sobbed and realized that this was the end to my life as a vampire. 

“These guys are the real monsters,” I thought bitterly.

As this thought crossed my mind it seemed like something in my head finally clicked. No, I told myself firmly, these were just people, these were just humans. The only monster that rooftop was me, and I was allowing myself to be killed. I had been resenting my mom for not being able to accept who I had become, but it seemed like I hadn’t accepted it either. I didn’t want to be like the one who had turned me so much that I had been ignoring crucial parts of my new existence. I was a vampire, and that meant that I needed human blood to survive. As felt my skull being pressed into the concrete I realized that drinking animal blood had been doing but weaken me. I realized that if I wanted to thrive I needed to do what was natural, not what was right. 

In a burst of strength, I turned over and grabbed the boot that had been pressing my face into the concrete. I used it to pull the man onto the ground and I stood up triumphant. I wrenched the guy up by his collar and held him above my head. I looked him in his once cruel, now deeply terrified green eyes as I lowered him down slowly. I breathed on his pasty neck and was reminded of my late dog, Dune. Only this time I remarked, as I drank deep from his arteries. The blood wasn’t rancid, it was sweet.