The Donor to a Vampire (Donor #1)

Chapter 3: Deal with the Devil

I cried my eyes out after the talk with dr Norman, knowing I was utterly powerless with my hands tied behind my back. The feeling sucked, big time. This wasn't the first time I had wished to take Jeremys' place, to relieve him from his suffering and protect him as a big sister should. Crying didn't solve anything; however, the burden felt just a bit lighter at the end of it.

"Take all the time you need, and don't worry about anything but Jeremy," was Moniques' kind reply as I told her the news of Jeremys' declining health. Assuring me I would still get the total salary, even when working half the time, she promised to visit Jeremy soon.

But the manager of the Sage was less inclined to let me take a few fully paid days off, but even though he was grumbling about me making a mess out of everyones' shifts, he reluctantly agreed in the end.

I could only think about the promised phone call and Jeremys' well-being in the following two days. He was awake but weak and tired. Every spare time I had, I hovered by his bedside, trying to distract him by reading books and playing games while taking the term helicopter parent to a newly discovered level. I needn't be a doctor to know that cancer was taking my little brothers' life. His immune system was shutting down, tired of waging battles against a losing war. Seeing it once before with mom, I knew that Jeremy was at the last stage. The feeling of Dejá Vu made me shudder while observing my brothers' pale, skinny face. As I had more time to stare into space and ponder, scepticism about the truthfulness of Doctor Normans' offer was pessimistically spreading. It was too good to be true, so the deduction was to be made that it couldn't be true. I thought of all the scenarios about how this supposed meeting could go. Most of them ended with me magically evaporating into thin air, never to be seen again. The only reminder of my existence would be faded, missing posters on milk cartons or stapled to trees and lamp posts with my name and picture. But amid all the negativism, a small, tiny speck of hope glimmered. What if this was a chance, a turning point where everything would get better? My life, and my brothers' life, cannot be more of a tragedy than it already was. No higher power was that cruel; no god could be so cold. Jeremy whimpered while immersed in a dream and my attention was in him again.

That damn phone call couldn't come fast enough.

While watching Jeremy sleep and counting his small inhales with worry, the phone on a table vibrated with a text:

"The meeting will occur at a corner coffee shop opposite the hospital where you watch your young sibling. Be there at 7:00 pm. Best regards, A.C."

It took me five minutes of blank staring at a little pixel screen to understand that I had received a summons via text. Then goosebumps erupted all over my arms and at the nape of my neck, making my hair stand straight up as I shivered. If this wasn't freaking ominous that I don't know what might be. Not to mention highly ghoulish, they, whoever they were, knew where my location..., probably stalking me at this very moment. The blinds on the window offered protection, but a sound in the corridor behind, made me jump. It took all my might to not swivel round or glance over my shoulders to see if I was watched. My heart raced with a galloping speed; keeping my head forward was challenging. Imagining myself as that typical cliche dumb blond girl who always died first in serial killers or horror movies, I hoped I wouldn't scream my head off or fall over nothing while asking, 'Why me?'. I had an intuitive feeling that making that kind of a screaming scene now would most likely earn me a text saying:

"Don't bother locking the front door tonight; we always get in. Sleep tight, A.C."

My eyes widened as I stared at the phone, waiting for another text, one as threatening as the one from my overly wild imagination, but fortunately, none came. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, trying to find a semblance of inner peace while my head was going into overdrive. Everything would probably go fine tomorrow, the optimistic part of me assured me. Perhaps even without my blood coating the coffee shop walls.