Dinner With A Vampire. Did I Mention I'm Vegetarian? (6)

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Dinner with a vampire. Did I mention I'm vegetarian? (Chapter 6)

I must have fallen asleep, for many hours later, I woke up. For a moment my head rushed as I glanced around. Where was I?

I felt a sharp pain in my wrist and looked down. All across my right hand wrist were deep lacerations, long dried blood caked up the length of my arm.

The horrific scene in Trafalgar Square.

Being dragged through the dark streets of London, a mysteriously handsome guy pulling me by the wrists.

A voice hissing in my ear. "Too slow." Being swept up into a strong man's arms. Hours later, finding out the terrible truth.

Sharp teeth running across my neck. Blood dripping.

Running. Falling into the lake, drowning, dying. Losing hope. Bright white pulling me back to the surface. Kaspar...

Everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours flooded back to me, memories flashing before my eyes faster than I thought possible. I shook my head, trying to rid my head of the past. I studied the clock on my bedside table. It read 7:23am. But that must mean it was the next day? The second of August. I had slept for almost twenty-four hours. Wow. I must have really zonked out.

I jumped down from the windowsill, where I had fallen asleep. My joints clicked, protesting against this sudden movement. I stretched, trying to ease out the stiffness in my muscles. I looked down at the floor, not sure what to do with myself.

I glimpsed Lyla's note, strewn across the carpet. I read it through once more, taking in the information properly this time. Last time my emotions just could not cope with any of it. She had mentioned being free to roam the house. Well, its decided then. If this really was going to be my new, *gulp* home, I might as well know my way around. Yes. Today I would go exploring.

But first, I needed a shower. I placed the note safely under the clock, and walked over towards the wardrobe. I pulled open the door, and gasped. Walk-in-wardrobe didn't cover it. More like my own personal shopping centre (mall, sorry, I know, being really, really English there!). Running down the left hand wall were long racks, empty save for a couple of outfits. Along the right were more racks, but these were broken up my three doors. I pulled open the nearest, and peeked in. It was reasonably small, but it contained a washbasin, as well a bathroom mirror. A bar of soap, toothbrush and toothpaste were placed beside the basin, towels neatly folded and hung from a towel rack. I closed the door, and moved onto the next.

I noticed this one had a large, secure lock attached. I turned the handle, half expecting it to not open. But to my surprise, it did. The room was exactly the same size, except this one contained several drawers, and jewellery stands. In the corner was yet another mirror, and below it, a small bag of make up. I slid one of the drawers open. It was empty, although it contained space to store rings and bracelets. So that explained the lock.

As I opened the third door, I was blinded, light after light clicking on. It took a moment for my eyes to re-focus.

Blimey. It was a full on dressing room. All four walls were covered in full length mirrors, and spotlights lit the room from every angle. I stepped in, turning in amazement. It was then that it took a look at myself in the mirror.

Wow, was I not a pretty sight.

My hair looked as though electricity had been passed through it, and I could swear there were bits of twig tangled in there. My clip in extensions were slipping out, tugging at my greasy strands of hair. The rest of me did not look any better. There were countless cuts and grazes dotted about my body and mud was smeared across my face, mingled in with my smudged make up. My foundation even looked orange around the edges, although that may have just been blood. Dried blood caked to my arms, and my dress hung lifeless around my frame, fraying at the edges, torn in places I really wish it wasn't. My feet were brown and muddy, and I realised I must stink. But it was my eyes that looked the most pitiful. Usually bright and lively, they now looked old and weary, as though they had seen a hundred years of suffering, not two days. I sighed.

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