Vampire and Slayer-(8 Ben Who?)

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Wahoo! We made it to part 2 people! congrats!

Anyways, this IS one of my favorite chapters. You get a lot of talking and you get an semi-not-really Anne Rice-like my history spiel.

Playlist: is in the external link section

Song: Money Honey by State of Shock

this is Kelsey, Jordin's friend that had the laptop. Remember?

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Part 2

Chapter 8

Ben Who?

My heart skidded to a halt and I was in complete silence for a few seconds. My mind stopped thinking and my muscles stopped working. For a moment in time, I knew what it was like to be a vampire. The world around me was full of noise, so it wasn't like sleep. It was like becoming my prey. I was quieter than feather falling from the sky, stiller than rock on the ground and stuck in world full of the loudness and blinding lights.

In aching slowness, my eyes opened, my heart started, and breathing resumed. What now? What was there left in my world?

Ben, the man I thought I loved was a vampire. Jackie, Fairy, Taylor, and Aliyyah, the slayers I thought were my friends hated me. What was still there for me?

It was just me and the world.

That's how it always had been. Even when I was still humaner I never had the mental confidence to confide my deepest secrets to anyone. I was always closed and reserved. People thought I was open and easy to read, and maybe I was, but I never told anyone the really important stuff. Perhaps they could guess it, but I never told them.

So acting like the clam shell I was, I pushed the real problems to the back of my mind, preserving them for some other time. Right now, I was going to tell Ben.

I had sat next to him all day and put on an okay show, in my opinion, but I couldn't take it anymore. I was in a full and busy cafeteria with too much on my mind for any one person to handle. He was going to know that I knew. And I could tell that I wasn't going to be nice about it either, even though I wished I could.

"Ben," I said clearing my throat. He looked up from the food he wasn't eating. He had torn the pizza into dozens of little pieces, but hadn't put any in his mouth. I wondered where his appetite had gone. If it was any other time I might have asked.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice, nervous and weak. He was such a cheery fellow, why was he down in the dumps?

My pert politeness faded as I slowly recalled the confusing pain. "What are you?" I demanded, ignoring the dozens of people around us.

"What do you mean?" he asked, glancing around.

"Exactly. What?" I snapped.

"There is a time and place for everything. But frankly," he glanced at his watch, "this isn't the time, nor is it the place for this conversation," he made a spiral with his pointer finger as a gesture to our surroundings.

"You don't like to discuss these things in public?" I asked, leaning forward. No one looked to be listening, but there was never any way to be sure. "Then you will answer my questions outright."

He sighed, but otherwise had no comment on my demand.

"You know what I am. So that prompts my first question, for how long have you known?"

"About you and your reputation, or that Ariel Millon was the person I knew about?" he asked, a little on the testy side.

"About my reputation, for starters."

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