Friday. The day of the big game. This time our opponents were The Panthers of Lewes High – the strongest school team in the whole state. For the first time in all my years of playing soccer, I was waiting for the game not with fear and anxiety but with enthusiasm and complete self-assurance. All week I had been successfully coping with my new vampiric habits. I hadn’t gotten sunburned even once. I hadn’t burned myself with silver or garlic nor crippled anyone with my superpower or bared my fangs in someone’s presence. But controlling my every step and every word exhausted me. I felt like an orange that had been completely squeezed out to make a glass of fresh juice.
The game was exactly the type of relaxation I needed at that moment. I knew that I would perform amazingly and wouldn’t have to hold myself back. Everyone would be just glad to see me running at supersonic speed and jumping like a grasshopper loaded with Red Bull. And it would be nice for me to have the moral support of the spectators. If only they knew that I was a vampire, they would have snatched pitchforks and torches and driven me along the main street, stabbing me in the heart with a wooden stake and roasting my body over a fire afterward. But as long as they didn’t suspect anything, they would love me like their own daughter, sister, or friend because I scored for their team.
I was making my way across the school parking lot at a leisurely pace, heading for the back entrance to the locker room, looking at my feet, and thinking to myself.
“Hey, cutie, will you tell me the time?”
I raised my head and saw Chris’s car parked nearby. He looked out of the window and waved me over. All week I had been actively avoiding him, not willing to repeat that sad story of the trip to the cliff. Of course, I did talk with him at school and we had even snatched a few quick make-out sessions in the halls when no one was around, but that was it. Several times, I had told him that I couldn’t go out with no real valid excuse, and I was cowardly running away after classes so that Chris wouldn’t have the chance to offer me a ride home.
I opened the door of his car and sat in the front seat. He kissed me tenderly.
“What’s up, champ? Ready for the big game?” he asked cheerfully.
“Sure, always ready.”
An awkward pause hung in the air. Obviously, it was not the game that Chris wanted to talk about, but he didn’t know where to start.
“So… I’m guessing you’re not waiting for me in the parking lot because you want to discuss the game plan...”
“No, I’m not… Sam, are we ok?”
“Yes, of course, everything’s perfect,” I tried to sound casual.
“I just noticed that since the last weekend and our, um, unsuccessful trip… Well, you’ve been acting really differently. Have I done something wrong?” Chris asked.
I heard a genuine note of worry in his voice. Oh, he's such a sweet guy! It’s awful how I’ve been treating him these last days. He deserves a lot better!
“No, not at all! You do everything right! It’s not you,” I pondered for a moment. I definitely couldn’t tell him the real reason for my behavior. “It’s because of my family. I, um, well, I’m having some problems at home. My mom and dad…things are not good between them right now.”
Chris’s face brightened in relief, but he hurriedly changed his gladness to an expression of empathy.
“Are they getting divorced? You know, it's really not that big of a deal. Half of my friends have divorced parents, and they don’t complain.”
“No, I don’t think that it will come to divorce. It’s just that they’re arguing a lot, and, well, it upsets my sister, you know? She’s so little and all.”
“And what about you? How do you cope with it? We can talk about it if you want.”
“No, it’s ok. I mean at least not right now.”
To stop this conversation, I leaned into Chris and kissed him. He kissed me back. Gently and romantic, as he always does it. I kissed him again, and to my own surprise, very passionately this time, like in the movies, in a way I had never kissed him. I realized that I wanted him. But not sexually… My hand, as if of its own free will, reached out to him, crawled under his T-shirt, and settled on his chest. His heart, it was right there. This time, not only did I feel its rhythm, but it was literally punching my palm as if trying to escape out of Chris’s body. My heart started to beat twice as fast, and cold sweat appeared on my forehead.
It was too much. A sharp pain pierced my body. My stomach ached as if a giant spasm were twisting it; my head was pounding as if someone were crushing my skull in a vice grip; and, to top it all, my gums were pulsating from pain because my fangs were seconds away from breaking out. I clutched my stomach with one hand and pressed another one against my mouth so that Chris wouldn’t be able to see my fangs. It must have looked as if I were trying to keep myself from vomiting.
Chris recoiled in fear, but, a second later, he put his hand on my shoulder and asked in a caring manner, “Baby, what's the matter? Are you all right?”
I was expending all my energy trying not to let my demons out. But I was failing. For the first time, horror-struck, I felt an absolutely conscious desire to attack Chris, bite through his neck, and drink the much-desired human blood. If he had moved even an inch closer, nothing would have stopped me. I unclenched my hand which was covering my mouth and yelled through the pain, piercing my whole body, “Don’t touch me!”
I could see the fear reflecting in Chris’s eyes, but – oh, that gentle soul! – my scream only encouraged his desire to help me. “Baby, should I run for the school doctor?”
“Get away from me!” Together with those words, a deep-chested sound resembling an animal growl erupted from my mouth.
At that moment, I hated Chris. Hated his kindness, generosity, and desire to help no matter what. I wanted to tear him to pieces, and he was still looking at me with his Bambi eyes full of sympathy. I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. The pain became unbearable, and I knew that the only way to get rid of it was Chris’s blood. With my new superpower, I could break his neck in one move and leisurely drink all of his blood till the last drop. I have to do something to scare Chris away! My hand was an inch away from his neck, ready to grab it in a viselike grip. I gathered the last remains of my willpower and suddenly jerked my hand up and to the side giving Chris a loud slap in the face and yelling at the same time, “Go to hell, you, pathetic piece of shit! You disgust me! I hate you!”
Chris’s mouth fell open in surprise. A red slap mark appeared on his cheek. Another bout of pain ran through my body. This time it was not my stomach or my head. It was as if someone had stabbed me right in my heart. In Chris’s eyes, I saw confusion, pain, despair, and fear at the same time. This slap had brought an end to a wonderful time in his happy life.
With that slap, I’d killed his innocent soul. I’d killed his faith in love and human kindness. I’d done it – killed something beautiful with my own hands. It hurt me. But it was not physical pain. Yes, I was a vampire, but there was still a human inside. And when the human’s soul was unbearably hurt, a physical pain tormenting the vampire’s body felt insignificant. Tears were streaming down my face. I felt for the handle, opened the door, and jumped out of the car. Without looking back, I ran away to the nearby bushes. Emotional pain united with the physical one and intensified it. Not able to bear it any longer, I yelled.
My own yell scared me – it was something between a woman’s scream in the most painful moments of childbirth and the animal roar of a tiger. Hiding in the greenery, I dropped to my knees. I vomited. Then again. And again.
ns 15.158.61.8da2