"My name is Lucy."
The girl standing in the middle of the circle looked about eight years old.
She sighed.
"...I've been eight since 1476."
The room answered in perfect unison.
"Hi, Lucy."
Lucy sat back down with a dramatic groan, adjusting the tiny knitted cardigan draped over her shoulders.
"I got offered a children's menu again."
Several vampires nodded sympathetically.
An elderly-looking sigh escaped from somewhere in the room.
"I hate when they do that."
"They gave me crayons," another voice muttered.
"They called me 'sweetie,'" someone else added.
The meeting leader, a boy who looked no older than fourteen, gently rang a little brass bell.
"One complaint at a time, everyone."
He checked the notebook in his lap.
"Welcome to Meeting Two Thousand One Hundred and Eighty-Three of the Eternal Kids Support Group. As always, no judgment, no unnecessary biting, and if you borrowed one of the community fake parents this week, please remember to return them before Friday."
A girl who looked twelve slowly raised a hand.
"...Mine accidentally adopted me."
The room fell silent.
"...Again?"
She nodded.
"They keep getting attached."
The meeting leader pinched the bridge of his nose.
"We've talked about this."
"I know."
"Did they start knitting you sweaters?"
"...Yes."
"They're keeping you."
Another collective groan.
A small boy wearing tiny reading glasses scribbled something into the minutes.
Agenda Item Seven:
Stop letting fake parents become real parents.
Satisfied, he underlined it twice.
The meeting continued.
"My history teacher gave us homework about the French Revolution."
A dozen hands shot into the air.
"I was there."
"So was I."
"She marked my essay wrong."
"Mine too."
"They said my eyewitness account wasn't a reliable source."
The room erupted into offended murmurs.
One tiny girl crossed her arms.
"I literally met Napoleon."
Someone across the circle replied,
"He was shorter than I expected."
"He was exactly as tall as I expected."
Another bell rang.
"Please stay on topic."
Silence returned.
An ancient-looking child with silver hair leaned on a walking stick he absolutely did not need.
"I'd like to report that I have now attended elementary school forty-two times."
Scattered applause.
"I finally got perfect attendance."
Louder applause.
"...I hated every second of it."
Standing ovation.
The meeting leader smiled proudly.
"Thank you for sharing."
He looked down at the next note.
"Community announcements."
A woman who looked about thirty stepped into the room carrying several grocery bags.
Everyone relaxed.
"Evening, kids."
Half the room glared.
"We're older than you."
"I know."
She smiled anyway.
"I brought blood packs and fake birth certificates."
Instant excitement.
Hands shot into the air.
"I need a mother for parent-teacher conferences."
"I need someone to sign a lease."
"I need someone to buy me cough medicine."
"I need someone to pretend to yell at my principal."
The woman pulled out a clipboard.
"One at a time."
A tiny hand rose from the back.
"I'd like to reserve Margaret."
A collective gasp echoed through the room.
"You can't reserve Margaret!"
"She's booked until November!"
"She does the best disappointed-parent speech."
"It's because she sounds like everyone's grandmother."
"She is everyone's grandmother."
Margaret, who looked exactly eleven years old, adjusted her floral shawl.
"I've been practicing for six hundred years."
No one questioned it.
No one laughed.
Because everyone in this room understood.
Outside these walls, the world saw children.
Inside these walls...
They were retirees.
Veterans.
Scholars.
Former kings.
Former thieves.
Former pirates.
Former nurses.
Former farmers.
People who had watched kingdoms rise, fall, and disappear.
People who had forgotten more languages than most humans would ever learn.
People who had buried everyone they had ever loved.
People who still had to ask permission to use the bathroom at school.
The meeting leader closed his notebook.
"Same time next week?"
A chorus answered.
"As long as nobody gets adopted again."
The room burst into laughter.
For a little while...
Growing old without ever growing up didn't feel quite so lonely.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
E.K.S.G. - Eternal Kids Support Group
ParanormalBeing turned into a vampire at eleven sounded exciting... ...for about the first year. Five centuries later, it's mostly paperwork. You can't rent an apartment because everyone thinks you're a child. You need adult-looking vampires to pretend to be...
