Two days since I found out exactly what I am.
Two days since I've fed.
Two days since I last spoke to Spencer.
I have to feed; I'm so hungry. I don't want to, but I know that it needs to be done. I'll go tonight. There's a bar about twenty minutes away – Elise will drive me if she knows why I want to go. She'll probably congratulate me on embracing my demonic half. And she's not so bad, although she's a bit cold sometimes and I'm not talking temperature-wise.
But still, she's family and she's trying her best.
I'll feed tonight.
"Wassyer name?" the girl slurs. "If m'gonna fuck you I needa know yer name."
I shake my head. "No names," I shout above the music. "I thought we agreed."
She shoots me this look, and I think she means it to be a sexy pout – I know it's supposed to be that – and I shake my head. I put on what I hope appears as a flirty smile, and I shake my head again. "No names, sweetheart."
She's agitated, which is good because I need her to be as negative as possible. She's the kind of girl that'll only get that way if I let her make the first move. She's probably missing her boyfriend or girlfriend, or whatever; I can feel it coming off of her in waves, the longing and sadness intermingled, tasting so fulfilling...but not quite enough to satiate the need.
I brush a sweaty dyed-black strand of hair off of her face, and she leans in, kissing me. It's not as sloppy as I imagined it would have been which is nice. Sometimes the girls nearly eat my face.
She reaches down, and unzips my pants, and oh no, no, no, I hate it when they do this. They want sex but I can't give that to them. Not to them. Not when they're not sober. I shouldn't even be kissing her, I'm only going to kiss her her for a few minutes.
No, no, no. "No," I say aloud, pushing her hands away.
She looks offended, like I think she's ugly. She's not ugly at all; she's gorgeous. I can feel the anger rolling off of her and, yes, that's enough. I take what I need, and she unconsciously closes her eyes, a shudder rolling through her body.
When she opens them again, I've taken my fill. She's still offended, not realizing what just occurred. "Am I gross or 'somethin?" She shouts.
"No, not at all," I reply. "But you're wasted. And I'm not. I can't."
She blinks at me, all anger leaving her face. Instead, her eyes fill with tears. "Why?" she implores, wiping furiously at her eyes. "Why d'you hafta to be such a good person? Would fucking me be that bad? I'm 'givin it to you willingly."
I shake my head, and tuck a lock of black hair behind her ear. "It's not right, okay? I changed my mind. I can't do you like that."
She begins to sob, and she wraps her arms around me. But she's not sad now. She's thankful. "Thanks," she whispers into my chest. "My girl just left me. For a man. I thought if I did a dude, I'd see why she left me."
"Can I call you a cab?" I ask, and she pulls away, nodding.
When the cab pulls up, the girl turns to me, and says "Name's Eliza."
"Cayden," I respond.
"Cayden," she repeats, and smiles a wobbly twist of her lips at me. "You a virgin Cayden?"
This throws me off guard. "I'm not sure," I reply honestly.
She looks me deep in the eyes and nods her head. "Somebody did you wrong, Cayden. Let me tell you 'somethin, I may still be buzzed, but I know that yer a good person. You didn't take advantage of me because you know what it's like."
I shrug, neither confirming nor denying it.
Eliza opens the door of the cab. "Well, m'sorry that happened to you. Thank you fer not letting that happen ta me."
"Welcome," I reply awkwardly. "Drink lots of water when you get home. It'll help you."
Eliza laughs at that. "Hope you get the girl yer after. I can tell yer hung up."
I shake my head as she hops in.
I can't get the girl I'm hung up on.
Two days since I last saw Spencer.
If I'm lucky she'll never want to see me again.
When I go back to school, I'm not going to talk to her. I'm not even going to look at her if I can help it.
In bed, I lie awake. I'm scared to dream, there's three new cuts on my arm, and tears in my eyes. Elise picked me up and didn't ask any questions. She could feel the emotions pouring off of me. All she did was tell me that she bought me a pizza and left it in the fridge for me if I got hungry for something more physical.
I'm scared that if I eat, I'll vomit.
I'm scared of ever feeding from somebody again. The people I take from...they're people. They feel. And tonight was different from the other times – she had far too much personality. She wasn't the usual vapid girl I go for, she had too much depth.
She wasn't really looking for a quick romp, not really. Those other girls have all been genuinely interested in taking out their frustrations or sadness in meaningless sex, but not Eliza. Somehow, I don't think she'd have let anybody actually get that far with her without punching them square in the jaw. She's the kind of girl I'd like to be friends with.
I'm never feeding again. Because even though I didn't have sex with her...well I did take something from her. And that's why I cut. My dad started me doing it; told me it would help.
It does help. For a little while. It numbs the pain.
And inside of me is so much pain.
YOU ARE READING
Such Wicked Serendipity (Book 1 in the Shade Without Colour series)Paranormal
This is the first draft! It's VERY different from the final copy, which is better thought out, and longer. I kept it here for people to enjoy :D "Spencer," he says, his voice sounding just as stunned as I am, "you saved me." Spencer never dreamed t...