Eighteen troubled teenagers wake up one morning to an even more troubling discovery. They are all vampires...
Given the chance to correct their Scrooge like behaviors, they must accept the guidance of a keeper. Assigned to each of the eighteen, Dek...
Apon Ace's insistent nagging, I ready my supplies in chronological order. Busying myself with the cleaning and dressing of the keepers wounds.
While doing the kind of handy work that I could get lost in, I travel back a few hours.
All that I can remember is the blurred scene of arms and legs moving at warped speeds, all while Dekka's screams pierced the air.
She walked into that one on her own accord. If she was given any bit of instruction, it should have been how to handle us. Whatever, I'm not the one who sealed my life away to get another one.
After that, the only clear memory I have is of Ace and Alma handing out bags of blood.
Bringing us here, to my parents shiny big estate. An estate with too much air, on average one occupant, and a stale dusted over smell.
It feels out of place having house guests, human or not.
Looking down at the keepers body curled up on one of our many plush beds, I can't help but feel sorry for her.
Those feelings, that remorse, I dig them a generous grave. Those feelings have never done me any good.
Looking at her face, I trace the constellations in her freckles with my eyes. Scanning over her beautifully flushed face. Reaching out, I'm tempted to touch her thick bleach blond curls, just as the door clicks open.
Spinning on my heels with my new reflexes, I come face to face with Ace.
"Willow, what are you doing?" His voice erupts in the ominous silence.
I bring back the ice queen. "She's all cleaned up. Why waste the materials if shes dead?"
Leveling me an uneasy look, it appears as if he doesn't know either.
Having nothing to say to each other, we look to the now silent keeper. "You could touch her you know." This sends him over the edge, I've never seen someone so uncomfortable.
"What the h--"
"Ahh I always thought you smarter than that Abella." I interrupt. "What I meant was you could hold her hand or sit next to her, like they do in the movies."
It's fairly obvious that they had to have been bonded by some kind of connection? Whatever, it's the least of my worries at the moment.
"I--" His voice rasps.
Looking into his now black eyes, I force myself to see someone else. Why did it have to be them. Why couldn't have I been chosen.
"Ace, she's not them. You won't hurt her, not like that." Having nothing left to say, I turn to leave the room. As I reach the door, my vampire hearing picks up his whispered thank you.
For once I let myself smile, as I close the door.
Ace
Willow leaves the room, making it feel as if she was never in it. We've never been close, her and I.
Thinking about her brings me back to the night in the woods. The gore splattered trees appear, along with slaughtered animal corpses.
Stop it. Stop it. Just stop. I will myself to push the memory away. Down, Down, Down, it goes.
Trying to move past that night, I turn to what Willow said. I could touch her, if wanted to.
It would be so easy to reach out a hand and grab hers. To brush my fingers over her curls.
I can't hurt her. I won't hurt her. I refuse to hurt her.
Even in death she looks beautiful. Without the top hat, her curls are on full display. Her face is flushed, the kind of flush that comes with life. Yet her heart is a void.
Pushing the boundaries ever further, walking around the bed, I lay next to her. Leaving a foot between us, I begin to talk to her.
Speaking only of the happy memories, memories of my mom. Pushing myself down a rabbit hole of laughter, fresh baked cookies, and movie marathons.
Loosing myself to the swell of joy in my heart. I feel her hand squeeze mine seconds before I hear her breathing...
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