The Good Life

Long Ass Day

KYLE’S POV:

“Since next week you all are graduating, I have assigned a very interesting assignment for all of you,” Mr. Rouge, my art professor, said and every human in the room groaned knowing that every “interesting” assignment was a long and strenuous one, for them. For me, in particular, it was repetitive and tedious, and I could complete it within a minute of my time. I say that because nothing that these teachers do is original to me, well at least not compared to how my mother taught me when I was six. Now all of this is just…for a lack of a better term, bleh.

“So I want all of you to search deep inside of yourself, and create a piece of artwork based off of someone special to you and make it for them,” Mr. Rouge said. “and with that you can leave.” Immediately I got up and ran to my apartment within a second I was there.

            My nice little condo was perfect for me. It was the simplest thing in the world, yet it felt like home. There was a couch in the living room, and two comfy chairs at both ends of it. Then there was a simple flat screen TV right in front of it. Of course there was a little coffee table with magazines for when Leah came over, but that was just about it. I walked to the guest room and pulled out my canvas, paint, and paintbrush. For some reason this project just seemed really important to me so I thought about my long ass life to see who was special to me. Of course there was my mother, then Leah, then my brother Jerome, then my father and that’s just about it. I’m lying of course, those are the only people I’ve actually allowed to get close enough to me, and Kelly. It’s something strange about that girl that makes life go upside down for me, but in a good way. It’s the way her eyes sparkle when she talks about her family, or the way that she looks when she sings. Man this girl is something special… That’s it! I’ll do my artwork on her.

            Disrupting me from my preoccupied thoughts of my “interseting assignment”, my phone rang the vampire nobles’ anthem indicating that it was my father.

“Hello,” I answered the phone in a shockingly good mood.

“We need to talk, where are you?” my father asked in a deep bass voice seeming nonchalant about everything.

“My house,” I replied bored.

“So, I see you’ve taken a liking to this Kelly Spacey girl,” My father said dematerializing into my room his deep bass voice shattering the peaceful silence in the room. My father was a tall dark man like the color of tar with absolutely no hair. He was so big that people sometimes confused him for being a werewolf. He’s been living since Jesus rose from the dead, and then had me during the World War 1.

“Naw, I just like her scent,” I said nonchalantly beginning to paint in a quick motion.

“Yeah I bet,” my father said sitting down on the couch behind me. I changed the room around moving the bed out and putting a pull out couch to the side wall and putting my painting materials in front of everything else.

“Anyway, what is it that you would like to speak to me about?” I asked trying to avert his attention from this topic that I just didn’t feel comfortable talking about.

“You know about the mating rituals?” My father asked me.

“No, I never asked, never cared to ask, and most definitely don’t care,” I said to my father.

“Well unfortunately, you’ll have to find out now before you become an official noble,” my father said.

“Waarom niemand weet die presiese aard van vampiere ons is, so is dit heeltemal saak (Why no one knows the exact type of vampires we are, so does it totally matter),” I say in Afrikaans (our native tongue) applying more paint to the brush. I only speak in our native tongue when I refer to the type of vampire that I am because we are still a secret to the world unless we tell some people that we are actually close to.