Chapter 1
Story of a Girl
Ten Years Later
April 22, Tuesday - 7:15 a. m.
My first memory is of darkness.
Consuming. Comforting. Darkness.
Dark eyes. A black soul. Death. My vampyre William.
Eventually my eyes are forced to open up to the light. And in the sun secrets are revealed, lies and skeletons hidden in closets.
I prefer darkness.
It was in darkness that I awoke on Tuesday morning. Secure in the lack of light and the familiarity of the mattress underneath me. This was my routine, my normal. It was necessary to take precautions against the sun. For Will. My closest friend, he would burn if sunlight fell upon his skin. But he had left early last night so the light could be allowed...for now. I left my bed and parted the thick, black curtains that covered my single window, letting in the early morning light.
Turning to my dresser, I yanked a brush through my bleached blonde hair, the color was such a pale blonde that it was almost white. Recently I had dyed the tips of my hair a bold, neon green but I changed the color of my hair almost weekly. Brittany worked at the local convenience store and whenever I had to meet up with her there I would buy a new color. I left my lip and eyebrow rings out because I knew if Brittany saw them she would lose her mind. Only over the expense that she would assume. I hadn't yet figured out how to explain to her that a vampyre had bought them for me.
Looking in the mirror, I decided to leave my makeup off, too. At least until Brittany left for work. I never could manage to please her, no matter what I did or didn't do. Most kids my age were getting high and sleeping around. Was it really such a bad thing that my hair was green?
To the side of my mirror hung my calendar. One date stood prominently apart from the rest. April 28th. It was only six days away. Sometimes ten years felt like it was so long ago, but other times I felt like it had all just happened. I was planning to ask Brittany about the...incident. I'd asked before, with useless results, but it was important to me. My heart felt as though it would never be complete until I knew the truth.
I pulled a Paramore hoodie over my Invader Zim shorts and tank top before walking out to the kitchen. Brittany was at the table, eating a bowl of cereal in her bathrobe. Looking at her reminded me of our differences. Brittany and I looked nothing alike. She was curvy, with tan skin amplified by the hours she spent at the tanning salon and clothes that gave away the desperate way she followed fashions trends. I, on the other hand, was thin as a twig, pale, and rocked a rebellious punk style. If I did say so myself. No where ever guessed that we were related upon meeting us. Our personalities followed the same opposite pattern as our features.
I relaxed in knowing that today was Tuesday. It was special in a way because Brittany worked the late shift Monday night and had no time to hit the bar afterward. Every other night of the week she was there drinking away her wages.
Sober Britt was here, however long that would last.
I smiled at that as I poured myself a bowl of sweet, sugared cereal. Our kitchen was simple, with reddish brown walls that reminded me of dried blood. It was in serious need of some updates, but we were just renters so Brittany never really cared that much. The counter ran along one wall with the sink and a few cabinets above. On the opposite wall was the fridge, and the washer and dryer. Our thrift store table sat in the middle with a set of mismatched chairs.
“So it's green this month?” I paused with my breakfast in my hand. I told my self that Brittany was just antagonizing me. She'd been doing it for as long as I could remember. Everything was my fault, especially after.... No, I couldn't go down that road. I turned to find her glaring at me from behind a can of sprite. Brittany never drank coffee. She hated the stuff.
“Yeah, you should think about dying your hair Brittany. I think I see a little gray,” I replied, as I sat across from her at the table, a sickly sweet smile on my face. It wasn't exactly a lie, Brittany's drinking, along with her party lifestyle certainly wasn't adding any years to her life.
Brittany also despised me calling her 'mom.' She never really gave a reason but I didn't exactly bring it up a lot. I didn't exactly favor the reminder, either.
“Don't even joke.” She got up from the table, dumped her dish in the sink and started to leave the room. This was my chance.
“Wait, Brittany...can I talk to you? If you have time, that is.” I figured a little bit of kissing up would help my cause. Despite the fact that I knew she had no real desire to talk to me, the look on her face said that she was intrigued. I wasn't surprised. Our conversations were usually started by her, and involved blaming me for something.
“Alright, I got a few minutes but you better not make me late or Jean will keep me 'til eight.” And what a shame, she would be two hours late to the bar. Still, I knew it wouldn't do any good to try and stop her. If someone wanted to drink themselves into oblivion, there wasn't much you could do to stop them.
“It's...uh...almost that day again. I was wondering...is there anything else you remember? Something you forgot to tell me, maybe?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know I don't like talking about this.” We waited for a bit in silence until she realized that I wasn't going to let it go. I could be quite stubborn when I set my mind to something.
“I've told you everything I know. Your father, Bill got into some trouble...borrowed money that he couldn't pay back. From someone who wasn't about to just let it go and....” She stopped. For a second, I feared she was on the verge of tears, but no, her eyes were clear and her anger at me reflected back in them. “My beautiful Leora. They never found him, the murderer, they searched so much...and you were so strange. The police tried to get you to identify him, they spent months. But you never remembered anything, it was as if you had not even see you hadn't even seen Leora being murdered.”
I had heard all of that before. Year after year, I waited for Brittany to tell me something new, but she never did. It seemed both of us were lost in our thoughts for a moment. I could tell it was hard for her but at the same time I got tired of her blaming me for things that weren't my fault. Was it my fault? I wondered. Why couldn't I remember?
“Well, I'm going to work.” Brittany left the kitchen. I heard her stomp down the hall to her room. By the time I finished my cereal she was walking through the door, down the stairs and slamming the screen door. Okay, conversation over. I left the empty table, dumped my bowl in the sink and went back
to my room.
Brittany had never bothered to paint our apartment, so the colors remained the same as they had been when we moved in. Which meant I was stuck with my horrid, bright and boring white walls. My bedroom was quite bare, my mattress lay in one corner, the dresser that almost always refused to open, stood in another. The walls were empty of pictures or mementos. My wooden floorboards were fairly clear with the exception of empty make-up containers, old school papers, and the cheap plastic bracelets that I collected. A few vampyre books that I liked to tease Will about lay here and there. My one window had only the thick, black curtains that kept out the light when Will was around.
I yanked on the top drawer of my ancient dresser for what seemed like forever until it opened. I finally managed to grab a few items of clothing. Then changed out of my pajamas and into my neon green skull bra and 'textually active' t-shirt. A couple more yanks and my bottom drawer opened, my Brokencyde booty shorts at the top. I had only worn them once but Will loved them. However, they were definitely not school wear, so I shoved them back in my drawer. Instead, I settled on blue skinny jeans with my black converse.
I found my Hollywood Undead messenger bag, with my school stuff already in it, grabbed my cellphone, keys and my iPod. I brushed out my hair and added two black extensions. My makeup was quick; black eyeliner with corners reaching out further than was considered normal, then bright red lipstick. I put my eyebrow and lip rings in and I was ready for the day.
It was a ten minute walk to school, and the April weather was nowhere near warm enough for my liking. When I opened the front door, the obnoxious smells of body sprays and stale cafeteria food hit me full force. I passed several other students who stared at me before whispering to their friends. With an attempt to ignore their gossip, I turned away and walked up the stairs to my locker on the second floor.
I opened my locker and pulled out the books for my morning classes. My locker was in an alcove with five lockers on three sides. It was a perfect place to talk with friends, use your cellphone or any other things that a teacher wouldn't approve of. But were any of my friends near me? Nope. Peri Madison, on the other hand, was. She swished her hips all the way to her locker, in a skirt that would have gotten me suspended. Not that I had the curves to pull it off anyway. Every day of school I aimed to make it through without her saying something bitchy. But that day evidently, luck was not on my side. She was looking at my shirt and whispering something to her friend.
“Can I help you?” I muttered under my breath. I focused on the aging metal of my locker. Evidently I wasn't quiet enough.
“So...are you like into sexting or something?” she asked, brushing her perfect hair back with her fake nails. I had never needed fake nails, mine had always been long. Like the talons of a vampyre.
“No, but you are,” I responded quietly.
“What did you say?” she said haughty. I started to back down, but then, after so many years of taking her crap, my impulses won over.
“I said no, but you are!” I turned and all but yelled in her face. She froze in an almost comical way. As was the delightful crowd that we had generated. And continuing with the lack of luck, none of my friends in said crowd.
Stepping back in shock, I glanced around nervously. Everyone was staring outright not even bothering with subtly, a few people gave me looks that said they were questioning my sanity. Funny, I was doing a bit of the same thing. I rushed past the crowd, people moving out of my way, and into the girls bathroom. Shutting the door loudly behind me, I prayed that Peri and her goons wouldn't follow.
Standing in front of the sinks, I let my bag slip to the floor as I splashed cold water on my face. I looked up into the mirror, seeing myself almost as someone else. Everyone thought I looked strange. Even my closest friends, who were outcasts in their own right, still found my looks extreme.
It was then that Will invaded my thoughts. He often spoke of the solitary nature of a vampyre, and yet, the loneliness. I think I helped him with that. He spent most nights with me, but the rest of the time, I assumed he was just alone. However, he was proud of being different. Being a vampyre. Perhaps that was something we had in common, more than I'd ever realized.
Since there was a mirror right in front of me, and I was a girl who may or not have worn too much make-up, I couldn't resist checking it. It wasn't too bad the water hadn't really gotten to my eyeshadow, but my lips did need some more color.
Digging through my bag I found an open lipstick that had an 'I heart fangs' sticker on it. I was definitely not putting that anywhere near my face. Looking back up at the mirror an idea came to me. I took the lipstick and drew a smiling face with vampyre fangs. Soon my image was distorted by a dark red cartoon like face. I was finishing the left fang when I heard someone walk in. I kept working and waited for the ranting and freaking out.
“What a waste of lipstick. Nice shade, too. Would've looked great on me.”
A smile spread across my face and I turned, waving the lipstick in my hand. “Hey Abby.”
One of the few friends I had at school stepped closer to admire my work. Now Abby and I looked similar, she was a slight curvier than me, wearing black and yellow skinny jeans and a Sleeping With Sirens jacket.
In the second it had taken me to look at him, my other friends had sneaked into the bathroom behind her. Chris, Calli aka 'Cupcake' and Drew, my boyfriend all filed in and made themselves comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be in a school restroom.
Drew gave me a small smile but offered no other greeting besides that. I doubted anyone outside f our group would be able to tell that we were dating. The girls; Abby, Chris and Cupcake, all thought that Drew was like the hottest guy ever. He was cute but I always ended up comparing him to Will. He wasn't as tall as Will or as strong. He wasn't as tall as Will but he was bulkier. Where Will was tall and thin, Andrew was shorter and he had a more athletic build, thanks to being captain of the lacrosse team.
He did make a devastating emo, though, from his deep chocolate eyes to his beautiful hair that fell perfectly across his face.
Dressed in black and red zebra striped skinny jeans with silver chains crossing the legs and a jacket decorated in zombies, Drew was my male counterpart. His face also featured make-up, though his was simpler with heavy black eyeliner, surrounding his brown eyes. He was smiling lightly but it didn't reach his eyes. It never did, Drew was always very closed off.
“A party in the bathroom?” Abby asked, “We must work on your social skills, Jay Jay.” The words were over dramatic and she winked as she past me to admire my lipstick artwork. It was very much like them, like us to pick a spot somewhere in school and wait out a few classes there.
“This is BA, girly,” said Cupcake as she hoped up on the counter, her short tutu skirt fluttered around her. I looked up to find Drew's eyes on the hem of her skirt.
“You are on lucky guy, Drew. I wish I could draw like this,” Chris said as she pulled out a black lipstick and added bat wings to the mirror. Drew shook his head and pulled out his cell. Chris stuck her tongue out affectionately at him. To be honest, Chris probably liked Drew more than I did. Sometimes I wondered why I even stayed with him.
“I don't think this will get me an “A” in art class, more like a suspension when the principle sees it.” I responded.
“True,” Abby said, teasing me.
The laughter stopped as she and I watched as Drew walked over by Cupcake. They were close together and laughed at something on his phone. Her thighs were brushing his legs in an intimate position. I felt Abby tense beside me. “Don't,” I whispered, “I don't mind, really.” I was telling the truth.
She relaxed and took a sip from her energy drink. “Whatever.” She let it drop but I could tell she was still ticked off. Of course it wasn't really his lack of attention to me. More the lack of attention to the group in general. Abby, Chris and Cupcake had all taken an instant liking to Drew the first time they saw him.
Some of the popular girls had taken a liking to him, too. Apparently it was insane for girls to dress like us but when guys did it is was totally hot.
Two years ago in the middle of freshman year, Andrew Baston had transferred to our school and instantly become one of us. The girls had been over the moon about having a guy in the group and quickly renamed him Drew. It's way cooler, Abby had said when I asked. As far as I knew Chris and Abby still had a crush on him. But at the end of last school year he had asked me out and we'd been together ever since. The girls thought I was so lucky but I never really understood it. I wasn't even sure if I liked Drew, he was nice and cute, but not...my type. I stayed with him mostly because I feared what would happen if we broke up.
“Were Peri and her wannabes bugging you again?” Drew asked, briefly looking up from his cell. He doesn't even act like he likes me, I thought.
“No more than usual,” I replied. Trying to ignore Cupcake tugging on his t-shirt. She hopped down from the counter and twirled around, her multi-layered, multicolored tu-tu fluttered around in a weird ballerina imitation. “So what are everybody's big plans for tonight?”
“Just staying in,” I answered. I probably sounded way to excited about that but Will was coming over so I couldn't help it. The others sprouted off their predictable answers after me.
“I'll probably go out.” Drew.
“Me, too!” Cupcake said, excited.
“Pool hall.” Abby spent nearly every night there.
/> “Mini golf.” Silence feel and all of us stared at Chris, even Drew. Chris stepped back in faux outrage. “What? It's a family thing.” Abby and Cupcake teased her for about that for a long time.
The group fell into it's familiar rhythm after that. I watched as Cupcake flirted with Drew, he didn't actually seem to responsive so maybe I was reading too much into it. Drew spent more time searching online with his phone than he did watching Cupcake. Abby and Chris downed energy drinks and candy. I remained at my place, sitting on the counter with my thoughts, I was on the fringe as it were. When the bell rang for third period it silently decided that we should probably try to make it to a few of our classes. I said goodbye to the girls as the filed out, until only Drew and myself remained. I tossed the empty lipstick into the garbage and grabbed my bag, preparing to leave, when Drew spoke, “Can we talk, Jacinda?”
“Sure.” I winced at the use of my given name. Everyone knew better than to call me anything other than Jay Jay. But I was intruguied. I adjusted my bag over my shoulder and waited for him to speak. He was fidgeting and twisting the chains on his pants.
“I don't think you really want to be my girlfriend. I think we should break up.” The words were spoken plainly, without remorse. Maybe it was harsh but I find that to this day I still don't truly care. Maybe a normal girl would have cried, burst out in anger or started a melodramatic scene. But I, Jacinda Jadwige Grayson was a freak to the very bitter end. My boyfriend was breaking up with me and I...well, I didn't really mind.
I gave him a small smile and said, “Okay.”
“Really?” He sounded doubtful and a little disappointed. But that couldn't be right. He was the one breaking up with me.
“Yeah, I like someone else.” What?! “His name is Will. He's already out of school.” If I'm going with this story I might as well make it good. It was sort of true. I had no idea why I was saying any of it.
A few moments of awkward silence passed before he muttered, “Okay, see you later, then, Jacinda.” As he left.
“It's Jay Jay, not Jacinda,” I muttered under my breath.
I stood there and waited for sadness or disappointment to overwhelm me. Wasn't I supposed to be crying or something? But all I could think of was how happy it made me. How happy Will would be. I couldn't see myself being with Drew forever anyway. Forever?
After waiting until I was sure Drew would be gone, I exited the bathroom. Abby jumping out was sadly expected.
“So, butler, what happened?” She was obsessed with some new anime which apparently had a super hawt (her word) demon butler in it. She insisted on referring to every single one of her friends as a butler.
“He broke up with me,” I said simply. Abby was watching me closely, but she apparently didn't find what she was looking for. I just wasn't upset.
“Idiot.” Abby groaned as she adjusted her torn jean messenger bag.
“Abby, can we not talk about this?” I pleaded. “I'm fine and now he can be with someone else.” Like you, I thought. I knew that Abby also liked Drew.
“Fine, I'm shutting up. You realize that you just made us late for class, right? I already have detention at study hall. If I have to spend one more lunch detention with Mrs. Ziggler I swear I'll kill myself.”
“I'll take all the blame, promise. There will be no blood spilled on my watch.” I couldn't help but smile at Abby. Her life was like mine, a sad joke, but she still found humor in almost everything.
“Good,” she said as we walked down the nearly empty hallway. “Do you want a drink?” She pulled out a gray water bottle from her bag.
“Depends. Is it legal or illegal?”
“Define illegal,” she countered.
I laughed. “What is it today?”
“Vodka. Want some?” She waved the bottle in my face, trying to entice me.
“No, I'm good.” I laughed again. “You do realize if you get caught, you'll be suspended, right?”
She took a swig. “Suspension and I have met before. It didn't work out well but I'm willing to give it another try.”
The conversation drifted to the latest school drama and by the time we made it to third period the bell was ringing and it was over. We grabbed some snacks from the cafeteria and then parted for fourth period. I ended up being late but Mr. Morris wasn't even there yet, so it didn't matter. Compared to the morning, the rest of my school day was rather uneventful. It was just the beginning of the week, so all of my classmates were even more restless than usual. My morning classes went by quickly with the exception of Abby getting caught with that bottle of vodka. She didn't seem to mind getting suspended, though.
Everyone was talking about my encounter with Peri that morning, but since Chris was known for getting into fights no one said anything directly to my face.
At lunch I sat with Anne, a quiet girl who wore all black and never said a word. She had a stack of books beside her and a paperback in her hands. I wondered what she saw in reading all those books. She smiled at me when I sat down, then returned to her reading. Curiously I looked at the cover, It was beautiful, the title read Thorn by Intisar Khanani.
Hmm must be good, I thought. I ate my lunch alone, Chris and Cupcake having gone outside for a smoke. They invited me but I felt it was too cold to go outside. When I finished my food I noticed Peri and her friends whispering and glancing my way, but I ignored them and put my headphones in. I drifted through the rest of the school day with the songs of Blood on the Dance Floor playing in my head.
April 22, Tuesday - 3:14 p. m.
As I walked home, I observed the small town of Crosswood. It often reminded me of those ghost towns in the old west. The places where people would settle near a gold mine and when the gold ran out, they would leave, never to return. Leaving empty houses and roads that were never finished.
In the early 1900's, Crosswood had been a booming town. Several factories had ensured a constant flow of workers and immigrants. Now those factories stood empty and bare. Walls had caved in, windows were broken. The only factory still standing was the old shoe factory, and in the 1960's it had been converted into a mental hospital. It stood at the top of the hill, looming over everything in town. Most of the other buildings had gone down with the factories. There wasn't much left beside fast food places and gas stations. A few local stores had survived for generations and still stood strong.
The wind blew old newspapers across the sidewalk in front of me. Crosswood was a dying place, practically dead already. And everyone that lived here wanted to leave. Including myself.
I had come to the realization during the past couple months that Will was something else besides just a vampyre and my best friend. He was a door. An exit. An escape from the nowhere land that I lived in. He held the promise of a new life. Even if I didn't become a vampyre like him, I could still go with him. Somewhere far, far away from here.
Outside of our apartment, I snatched the mail from it's box, nothing but bills. Brittany would deal with them later. Hopefully. I opened our door, which had been left unlocked. I walked up the stairs to our shabby apartment, the upstairs of a two story brown apartment building. It was rather ordinary and the stairs opened up into the kitchen/living room. Down the hall was the bathroom and Brittany's room on the left and mine on the right. Our living room wasn't much to look at. It was very small with just a television, a faded blue couch and an old wooden coffee table.
With nothing else to do and my stomach rumbling, I ordered a pizza. I figured dinner would kill a good hour before Will got there. In the search for my homework I dumped my bag out on the floor, eyeliner, lipstick, bottle caps, crumpled papers and other junk tumbled out.
When the pizza finally came, I gave up on looking and just shoved everything back in my bag, and sat on the couch with a slice of pizza with bacon on top. Genius.
Brittany got home shortly after five. She hadn't gone to the bar yet, so she was still sober. She grabbed several slices of pizza before heading upstairs. It was a weekly rout
ine; she would get off work, come home and then go to the bar, where she would work and/or drink until midnight or later.
When she came back to the living room, she was wearing a tight black dress and cheap high heels.
“I'm going to the bar, be back whenever,” she said before she left without another word, her heels clicking down the stairs. I definitely wouldn't be bringing up the bills today. I shut the door behind her and went to my room.
Several minutes of staring at my bedroom ceiling made me realize that I would have to find some way to kill time...until my vampyre arrived.