Don't You See Me Crying?

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Soooo.....still sad.....still depressing....but getting better......

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"How is she?"

"Is she still asleep?"

I listened to them murmur inquiries of distress repeatedly outside my door while I drifted in and out of consciousness. I devoured sleep. I longed for the quiet and the darkness to take me under. It came easily.

"What happened?"

"Where are they now?"

My aunts and uncles returned from their trip. They were angry so much danger came while they were away. There was a great deal of shouting at some point. I let them argue.

They wanted to talk to me, comfort me. And they came in my room, but I did not speak. I had no voice. They tried to touch my hands so they could hear me. I couldn't stand it. I didn't want them there, in my room or in my mind. My reaction was visceral. I tore my hands away with a fierce hiss. My relatives tried to hide their shock, but I could read the fear in their eyes. My father insisted they leave me alone. He was the only one who knew the respite my dreamless sleep provided.

"She needs to hunt."

"She refuses."

The itch in my throat began to burn as the days passed. My muscles ached with the desire to be revitalized. I didn't want to hunt. They brought me blood but I refused to drink it. They placed it on my nightstand and left the room. I threw it at the back of my door when it closed, shattering the plastic cup. Someone cleaned it up while I slept.

I liked the burn. I didn't want to lose it. The burn forced me to focus on it. It distracted me from the hole in my chest.

"It wasn't her fault, Edward."

"It doesn't matter."

It was my fault. I killed him.

****

It wasn't a dream that woke me. I awoke and I was in a dream. It was the burn in my throat. It was dry and scorching hot. It was a fire that erupted through my body, demanding my muscles to obey its will. I complied, but my actions were not my own. Reality felt like a dream. A blur of trees whipped past me as the alluring scent pulled at the burn. I took no time for stealth and the animal sensed me before I came upon it. But the burn was so much faster; blinding white heat that was finally doused by the rich lukewarm blood that flowed through my teeth. When the animal was dry, I could see again. I was no longer in a dream. There was a lifeless deer lying in front of me and darkness everywhere else. I tried to recall the last time I fed. I couldn't remember. I only knew I'd never gone so long without feeding before. 

The blood in my system roused me. Some of the aches went away. I knew if I spoke my voice would return. My mind cleared and I could see past the haze of bloodlust again. I wiped the residue of blood from my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at it. Red.

Red...blood... It was supposed to give life, not take it away. Blood sustained and strengthened me. Now it made me sick. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to purge myself of this addiction, this substance. I didn't want to be part of it anymore. If I wasn't, he would still be alive. I would have never known him if I was only human, but that would have been better.

He would be alive and I wouldn't be responsible for his death.

"You were wrong," I whispered. There was no one to hear me. It didn't make it less true. Sasha promised it would be better without him, but he was wrong.

Sasha by KenoshaChickWhere stories live. Discover now