“Damn Regret” Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
I was never one to believe in vampires.
Even when I was younger I wasn’t naïve enough to believe in monsters and witches and magic. I didn’t believe in princesses. I didn’t grow up thinking that there was a monster in my closet or under my bed and that it’d come up and get me when I was sleeping in the dark.
My culture was big on death. It celebrated it and older generations, like my great-grandparents and grandparents, talked about their deaths and sicknesses as if they were discussing the weather or a neighbor- with a mild, accepting tone. As if stating a fact. It was a fact, I had learned that at a young age.
I accepted death, I comprehended death. It was a fact of life.
It was a cold, winter day. The wind bit harshly at my cheeks and swirled around me, trying to find a way into my tight winter jacket. I trudged along, looking at the cracked sidewalk. All I wanted was to get home and under my blankets.
I cursed myself for going over to my friend’s. Then I cursed my parents for not letting me drive and not picking me up cause they were on their dumb “date night”.
I was nearly home, the sky was darkening, making me hurry. I was slightly paranoid.
I don’t know what possessed me to take an alley as a shortcut. Obviously, it was stupid. I mean, I was a teenage girl, I was alone at night, an alley wasn’t the best idea. It shouldn’t have been an idea…
The alley was overcrowded with roots, weeds, and cigarette butts from the kids that thought they were so cool by smoking in an alleyway. I could see the exit and then my house just a little far off. Maybe a hundred or so yards- I’m not sure, I’m not good with measurements.
It’s pretty obvious what happened next. He came out.
“Georgia,” his voice was smooth and deep- a deadly combination.
I turned my head, causing my neck to protest with the sudden movement. I looked around, and spotted him. He was standing a few feet away, clad in black. His hair fell over his eyes in such a matter that made me believe he couldn’t harm me. He was safe.
“Hello.” I murmured, my accent was barely noticeable.
He stepped closer to move, and it wasn’t till he started moving around me in circles that I realized he wasn’t safe. He moved my hair out of my face. “Georgia…”
I briefly wondered how he knew my name, but I didn’t bother to ask. It wasn’t important in the instance.
“Taylor, call me Taylor.” He murmured, his voice reminded me of rich, dark chocolate.
“Taylor.” I said, my voice didn’t reveal my emotions. It was as if I were talking to my friend, Annie.
He laughed and I noticed the teeth. I didn’t comment. I didn’t blink. I stared at him, slightly mesmerized.
“Are you afraid, Georgia?” He asked.
“Am I afraid?” The question striked me as odd. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, but I was sure it wasn’t terror of any sort- mild or intense. “No.”
“Georgia, my dear Georgia.”
I didn’t point out that I wasn’t his.
“Georgia,” he said. “I want to drink your blood.”
I surprised myself as I moved my hair away from my neck, “Drink it.”
He looked at me, his eyes were coal black. He narrowed his gaze on me and lowered his lips. He didn’t bite though, instead he kissed it, before whispering, “Georgia… my sweet Georgia, you will die if you’re this reckless.”
“Everyone dies.” I answered. Everyone did die- I had learned that at a young age.
He smiled at me, it was sympathetic and loving. “Georgia.”
I didn’t answer, instead I let him examine me as if I were a zebra at a zoo.
And then I did the unthinkable, I grabbed him and kissed his lips. It was only a split second before I was holding on to nothing. There was nothing but air.
