In Love With a Vampire

Chapter Thity-Four

Jim



The pain woke me up.

It was searing, blinding, crippling. It started from one point in my body and traveled everywhere, leaving me in agony. I could feel myself trembling as a result. I sucked air through my teeth when I tried to move my leg. Tears swiftly filled my eyes as I tried to return to my earlier state of numbness. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t forget the pain even though I desperately needed to. I was doused in it, consumed by it and when I finally managed to open my eyes, all I could see was blood, lots of it, and then…nothing.

When I came to once again, I heard voices. At first, I thought they were in my head, a distorted dream where I could hear the voice of my aunt and father at the same time. Perhaps a memory? Had the two ever talked to each other in the first place? I recall whizzing past my father’s office while flying my toy airplane and seeing Aunt Lory by the door. She always had her hand folded, ready to knock, she never did though. She always just stood there, eerily still, before shaking her head and walking away. I did that too sometimes; changing my mind each time I needed help from my father.

There was a startling noise. Metal on metal, or was it metal hitting the floor? The clanging sound sent shock waves through my body magnifying the pain that seemed to be rooted in every fiber of my being. I opened my mouth ready to scream, ready to cry out for help. The word that formed in my throat was a strange one, yet it seemed to be the only possible one.

“Father…”

No response. Had I imagined his presence? His voice? Aunt Lory’s? Wait, had the word even left my throat. Although it had happened seconds ago, I could not recall the word leaving my mouth and attacking the air. I let out a breathy sigh, I attempted to shift my lower body, in an attempt to get comfortable. I clenched my teeth in agony, the action causing excruciating pain to engulf me. I felt a bubble of vomit form in my throat but even though the sensation was strong and overwhelming, I did not submit to it. I simply did not have the strength to do so. I wanted to understand my surroundings. No, I needed to understand my surroundings. The last memory that I had was of…Sarah? Yes, she had been real. I had heard her, seen her but then she had tried to hurt me. Would my Sarah ever do that? I closed my eyes and pushed hot air through my mouth. I tried painting her image. Stark white hair, combat boots, rugged trouser, a punk rock band t-shirt; stunning as ever. My lips quirked upwards when the image smiled at me. But then the image shifted, she had a different look. Her stark white hair had become grey and dirty. Her outfit had been replaced by a gown, a drab one with uncreative stripes. Her feet were covered with white rubber shoes. Yes, yes she was different. Sad, broken, full of hate. Suddenly the image started gnashing its teeth. Suddenly it launched itself at me, knife in hand. Then the image morphed into a beast and it was pulling at my leg, sinking its sharp teeth into my flesh, tearing my skin so that my bones were exposed. At first, all I saw was blood, and then…nothing.

The third time I fluttered my eyes open I saw a light. It was glorious; golden with little white specks. It reminded me of the sun, of how much I missed being in the sun. A memory of my mother, Sean, and I at the beach infiltrated my mind. Back then she never used to have a wine glass in her hand. Back then she laughed with her eyes. I followed the light with my eyes. Past events taught me not to move my lower body. So I set my eyes on the large ray of light and allowed my thoughts to be consumed by it. Where was it coming from? Where was it going? Where did it end? Was it possible to feel its warmth? Was astral projection real? Could I disembody in order to go place my hand in between the ray of light and just marvel at its warmth? In all my frantic questioning, my mind reeled back to school. On the day I stood on the rooftop, scared that history was about to repeat itself again. My whole body relaxed at the memory. It was as if I was a balloon who had just had the misfortune of interacting with a needle. Except, mine was no misfortune. I welcomed my decompression, I welcomed the feeling of calm.

When I closed my eyes, I could see Donna’s auburn hair glow in the sun. This image suddenly shifted to Donna in my father’s house, donned in the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen. I could see my arm wrapped around her lower back. I could feel her warm breath fan my face. By the time the image was transforming gain, a wide smile had plastered itself across my face. I had found the source of peace in all my chaos.

Donna.

The incoming image was eerie. Donna was fighting something, something big and sinister. Something with gnashing teeth and hatred in its eyes.

“Sara don’t!”

I forced my eyes open expecting to see blood once more but instead, I spotted a silhouette in the ill-lit room. When I squinted my eyes, I made out a head full of dirty blonde hair tied in a bun. I tried to sit up but that sent pain waves to my lower body so I stayed put. Consumed with curiosity, I mustered all my strength and lifted my head.

“Aunt Lory?”

This time I was sure that I had been heard because of what I saw next. A hand sprang from somewhere below and wrapped itself around Aunt Lory’s neck. I tried to scream at the hand, I tried to yell at the owner of the hand to stop but then I saw something. A chain draping the hand. It was silver, heavy, brutal. I knew it well.

The owner of the hand was my father.

My father was choking my aunt.

What the f**k was going on?