The Creation (Book III)

(7) Present: 2024

Present: 2024

By the time day hit I was back in my bedroom with Leon by my side. Although now was the time for sleep, I chose to stay awake. It wasn't for Joanna or because I was worried the cops would show up; I wanted to stay up during the day. It was something I've been trying to do for years now. I'm now able to stay up for the entire day with only mild discomfort. I'd consider that a huge milestone from the feverish burn and the headaches I used to get. But I don't stay up every single day. I spend maybe five days of the week testing my strength, just as I had been taught years ago. If I do it every day not only will I be sick, but I'll be bored out of my mind.

I pulled off my dress and tossed it across the wooden chair in the corner as I went to my dresser to find a nightgown. My side was wrapped up tight with some white cloth to hold my broken bones together, making it difficult to move around much. Unfortunately, I knew nothing about mending my own wounds, aside from what I've observed over my course of existence. My entire side was black from the impact of the dumpster.

"Move," I commanded of Leon, who was draped across my bed as if he owned the place.

What is a vampire doing with a golden retriever? I honestly don't know. Vampires aren't supposed to care about anything. We're heartless, cold, and bathe in death. But sometimes I question whether that's true for everyone. When I found Leon wandering the streets one summer night, I had to have him. Maybe it was because I was tipsy or even a little lost myself. I saw him and his muddy face and brought him right home. He's adorable and something I've never had before. A change.

I ruffled his golden head and reached over to grab my most recent book purchase. Okay, call me a book hoarder. I'm obsessed with them. To be fair, I've always loved books. I did as a human, I did with my creator, and I definitely do now. Before Joanna had moved in her room had been my library. I had bookcases lining the walls with piles of books of every genre. It was lovely. But now I have every book stashed somewhere in my room. It's sad how often I get onto Joanna about her junk, yet I have books crammed in every nook and cranny. On my nightstands, under my bed, in and on my dresser, on the headboard, in my tiny closet, and even along the edges of my room. It's pathetic.

But I loved it.

I flipped to the page I last read on my newest book and stroked Leon's fur as I began reading. This scene would have been picturesque if it weren't for the glass of blood by my side next to a bottle of beer.

After a few hours of reading a book or two, I leaned back in bed and stared at my room to clear my thoughts. The first thing I focused on was the string of twinkle lights against my brick wall that currently made my room glow warmly. I've never really had a room of my own to decorate before, so having this apartment was pretty nice. I had blackout curtains over my tall and narrow window that lead to a fire escape. My walls, though not nearly as cover as Joanna's, had several random paintings I've found over the years. One was a painting of a dead tree with roses at the base of it. Another painting was of New York City itself, full of lively people and bright lights. The third, my personal favorite, was painting back in 1920. It was of a dance floor with women laughing and men grinning wildly.

This room was entirely me.

I think I've always had a case of identity crisis over my lifetime. When I was human I wanted the simple life of living at home with a family and books and normality. When I was with my creator I wanted to be everything he didn't want me to be. I wanted tattoos, short dresses, and the whole party scene. But neither of those were actually who I was. I don't like parties. I hate them, in fact. I don't want normality, not like I used to. Sure, I enjoy a book and a dog, but I have to do something crazy every once in a while, such as cutting my hair. I've realized I actually don't like slutty clothing, but I definitely don't like the clothing I used to be forced to wear. I like boots and v-necks and dresses. It only took me about a hundred and twenty-five years to learn all of this.