You're A Vampire, Cliché Much?

Chapter 1

Turning my gaze from my bedroom ceiling I centred it on the damn clock resting on my desk. These days it has more power over my life than I do. My gaze turned to a glare when I realised that if I wanted a shower before work I would have to move.

My whole family glowed with pride when I told them I'd got a job, well not literally glowing but you know what I mean. I was assaulted with questions, mainly do I enjoy it? Do I? No. Who the hell does? I mean sure if love what you do and pour your heart into it than that's great, really it is, but I'm seventeen years old, I work in the grocery store three blocks away from my house, so no I do not enjoy it.

Still I tell them all the same and with a modest smile that I do. Why, you ask? Because I have a point to prove and that point is that I can work, study, and go to school at the same time without crumbling. So I study, I work and I go to school without complaint, in fact the only person I complain to is Jeremy, but we'll get to him later.

I know what you're thinking seventeen, with work, school and study where are my social hours? Truthfully I have none and it doesn't really bother me at all. I've never really lived up to the clichés of my age group to my delight and pride.

When threats of grounding if homework isn't complete get tossed around I laugh because it is always complete and I don't go anywhere anyway. I spend practically seventy percent of my very small amount of me time on my own in my room and contrary to popular opinion (MOM AND DAD) I'm much happier and contented in my own company. I feel very easily crowded and don't enjoy talking a lot or partying and sneaking out, that would take effort.

Rolling off of my bed and miscalculating the move spectacularly I fell with a loud thump onto my hard wood floor, which at the time seemed practical because of all the art work I do up here and I avoided the horrifyingly conventional carpet which would have made my fall a little less painful.

Picking myself up off of the floor, I opened my closet took out a towel and put my silver locket and battered black leather watch away safely, making my way to the shower.

Looking around me at the mess in the bathroom I smiled. It was one of my favourite things to do, look at the stuff and how it was left to determine who the last person in the bathroom before me was for example, the smell of toothpaste, shaving foam and the cap to the toothpaste not secured back onto the tube, also the razor left haphazardly on the edge of the basin means my Dad is today's culprit.

He's not the cleanest of men, I'd say he's always been that way but I'm pretty sure that it isn't true because I can remember him being a little crazy from time to time if a tea towel wasn't folded properly or me or my brother had left our shoes by the stairs and not out in the porch, who does that anyway? Your shoes get damp and the tile floor has you dancing till you get back into the house.

Getting into the shower I made sure the dial was more on the cold side, I've never liked heat not even the sun, summer sucks for me especially with my parents butting in and telling me I'll get rickets if I don't get out of the house more, not that it's any of their business or anything. Feeling the water on my skin didn't bring me any clarity either, it never does because personally I need to be moving and in action to feel at peace.

When I got out of the shower I quickly dried my dripping pale skin with my towel making it go a little pink and then did the same to my horrifically contrasting darker than dark, long brown hair. When I was satisfied I wrapped my towel securely around me and just in case clamped my arms to my sides over it. I opened the door took a step out and screamed.

There stood a guy of at least nineteen possibly twenty with windswept mahogany hair, skin paler than even mine and what looked suspiciously like brown eyes behind green contacts and a tall lean build. I stopped screaming, realising that I had nothing on his six two form when I only stood at a commonly debatable five one, and that we were the only people here.