Morgan Sinclair
I wish I could say I woke up the next day peaceful and content given last nights events but unfortunately that's not the case.
I wake up gasping in a cold sweat to excruciating pain in my stomach expanding outward to the rest of my body. My throat was set aflame in a violent fury. I wanted to scream but it felt like my throat was constricting itself, every breath only making it worse. My constant splitting headache was exceptionally painful, and my gums; with an unbearable sharp pain like someone was gripping my teeth and slowly tearing them out.
Tears slid down my face as I manage to crawl out of bed, flopping onto the floor. With a quick and intense spike of pain coming from my mouth, I bring my hand up like covering my mouth would lessen the pain but my heart stops when I feel something poking out in my mouth.
With every ounce of strength I have, I lift myself up leaning on the bed. Standing up, I pray my legs don't give out from underneath me. I hobble around the bed trying to get to the bathroom, ignoring my body screaming at me as much as I can. I slam myself into the wall next to the bathroom, panting not even trying to breathe normally. With my tongue I feel the sharp foreign objects now in my mouth. I whimper as I slide myself along the wall, pushing open the door to the bathroom. I haphazardly switch the newly fixed light on as I stumble over to the sink, propping myself up against the wall and gripping the side of the sink.
I look at my sickly reflection in the mirror. Eyes sunken and turned their black and red, drenched in sweat, my hair soaked and stuck to my forehead. Not to mention my complexion that looks nearly gray. I groan as a pang from my stomach nearly causes me to fall. I know what I need to make this stop but I can't- I have a fucking regimen. My thoughts mock.
I reluctantly open my mouth, already knowing what I was about to see but not wanting to. I stare at my teeth, or more so fangs. My canines now long and pointed, on either side; my incisors and first premolars- smaller and slightly curved sharpened teeth. I raise my trembling hand touching the new additions to confirm that they're real and it isn't a part of a fever dream.
The moment of distraction from my body in flames ends abruptly with an excruciating shooting pain in my stomach forcing me to drop to the ground.
I was trying really hard to listen to them, to Chloe, to Dane, to Kellan, but I can't. I need this to stop. I get up from the floor and with this supernatural speed that I have no idea how to work, I suddenly appear at my bedroom door, falling into it. I grip the doorknob, unintentionally ripping not just the doorknob off but some of the surrounding door with it. I throw it to the ground not caring about the damage at the moment. I stumble down the hallway falling into the wall every other step. I probably look like a drunken zombie, harshly breathing and groaning in pain as I make my way down the hall.
My speed kicks in and I sprint past the living room slamming into the kitchen island. My legs give out, unable to stand I crawl the last remaining feet to the fridge. Flinging open the door I locate the blood bags, I audibly wail as the pain somehow manages to get worse the second I see the blood bags. I grab one, immediately sinking my fangs into the bag, collapsing back against the cabinets while the mouthwatering substance flows as fast as possible into my mouth.
Before I could process the fact that I could breathe without pain again, or that my bodily torment is almost completely gone, I reach for a second. Doing the same, biting into the bag once more. Relief, pleasure, contentment, power replaces any pain I was once feeling. Unconsciously- instinctually I go for another but before I could grab it I feel hands on my shoulders pulling me up and away from the fridge.
In a frenzy I turn to whoever is grabbing me not caring or seeing who it is and shoving them as hard as I can away from me. I go to sprint back to the fridge, halted by another who grabs onto my shoulders. I slap away their hands, knocking them to the side. My arms are forced behind my back as my body gets pushed into the side of the fridge.
"Morgan calm down!" A voice says while I continue to struggle.
I see a figure appear in front of me that I can't make out, everything's blurred. "Morgan!" I hear the figure say in deeper voice than the other.
I rapidly blink trying to unblur my vision. "There you go, focus. C'mon." The figure says. I focus my sight finally and see that it's Dane.
"Dane?" I say feebly, despite feeling unbelievably energetic.
"Hey yeah you're okay." Dane says, he looks over my shoulder. "She's okay you can let go."
My arms get released, in the midst of my heavy breathing I go to rub my eyes but they're grabbed before they could contact my eyes. I look at who's grabbing me; Chloe. "I wouldn't do that." She glances down at my hands. I follow her line of sight, seeing my blood stained hands. "Are you okay?"
I wipe my sticky hair out of my face with my forearms, while I run my tongue over my teeth feeling that my fangs have disappeared. I start shaking my head and take a deep trembling breath. "No, I woke up and..." I catch a glimpse of the blood bags on the floor. "I'm sorry, I just needed the pain to stop. I couldn't feel that anymore." I say fighting back tears- but failing, looking back and fourth between Dane and Chloe. I inhale and my breath hitches, I wipe away a tear threatening to fall.
"Hey, it's okay." Chloe reassures, she pulls me into a heartfelt embrace. A few tears fall onto the shoulder of her shirt. I raise my arms so my bloodied hands don't ruin her shirt even more.
She pulls back. "Why did that happen? Why that much pain?" I ask, grasping for the control I let entirely disappear.
"I don't know. Your transition is kind of new territory for us."
I see Dane come around with baby wipes, pulling a couple of out he hands them to me. I start wiping away the blood on my face and shaking hands. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to have more than the half but-."
"Don't worry about it. We'll get you back on it tomorrow." Dane says.
"Are you all fucking stupid?" All three of us turn to Grayson standing arms crossed at the bottom of the steps.
"Not now Grayson." Dane holds up his hand.
"Yes now Grayson. She just flipped her shit, waking most of us up because you're all legitimately starving her. So you're going to do the same exact thing again and what? See what happens?"
"You made it perfectly clear you have no intention on actually helping so why are you butting in?" Dane remarked.
"I can't turn away from pure idiocy." Grayson says.
"Walk away Grayson." Kellan demands emerging from the hallway. He briskly walks over to me, grabbing my shoulders, caressing my arms . "Are you okay?" His soothing green eyes survey my face.
"Yeah I'm fine."
"Not for long." Grayson comments.
"Shut up Grayson." Kellan says. He turns to Chloe and Dane. "Why didn't you get me?"
Chloe shoots him a quizzical look. "We were a little busy calming her down."
"Just because your little diet works for you doesn't mean it'll work for her." Grayson says. "It's not enough for her."
"Walk. Away." Kellan booms.
"I'm walking." Grayson throws his hands up and proceeds up the stairs.
"You're gonna be fine." Kellan says, pulling me in. I crash against his hard body, resting my head against his chest. I exhale, I know I messed up the regimen but I'm grateful I got the relief I needed. I don't think I could take another second of that agony. The thought that that pain might return frightens me.
Over the next three days, I begin thinking Grayson may have had a point. I was slightly agreeing with him before hand, this half blood bag thing never really felt like enough but I had shoved that thought down. Now it definitely doesn't feel like enough but I continue fighting my thoughts, accepting that this is the only way. Maybe I'm just disagreeing with him out of spite. Regardless, I'll continue playing pretend. It is what I'm best at.
Blood seems to plague my every thought. I spend the day awaiting the next half a blood bag I'm allowed to have. Salivating when it gets closer to the now- three times a day I'm permitted to eat. Yay.
I normally wake up around noon along with most everyone else, and go to bed around 1am. Victoria was kind of right using feral to describe how I'd be, because at 1:00pm, 6:00 pm, and 11:00 pm, I feel like a feral animal. My persistent pains that never seem to leave become harder to bear, my throat tightens like my body is strangling itself, I'm practically foaming at the mouth- I literally Pavloved myself.
I feel my sense of control over myself fading. I honestly cannot imagine myself around an actual human right now. The thought of what I might do, what I'd want to do scares me to no end. They were right it is more than a need or a want. It's something my body demands, and fiercely so.
Every time I happen to be awake when Grayson comes back to the house from his night out, I can smell the blood on him. Part of me is curious about where he goes and what exactly he does- all of which is probably violent and awful- I just hate how much only the smell of blood alters my brain. I know the others mean well and I get they want me to practice moderation and control, but... I just have to adjust.
Kellan took the reins on teaching me how to control my speed and strength. Dane said neither is presenting itself to their fullest yet but it is good to start learning how to use them properly- given the times my strength came out I tore a light switch off the wall and a doorknob off a door. Dane thankfully fixed them after I profusely apologized to Chloe who just laughed and said it was okay. She told me about when her strength came in she accidentally took a whole steel door off its hinges, so she understands.
I lay in my bed, exhausted from attempting to use that vampire speed yet I'm unable to sleep. I feel the burning start to come back as well as the pain in my stomach. It's manageable but I know it's only gonna get worse. So either I go to bed or I do something about it. I look over at the clock: 8:00am. No point really in sleeping now, none of them will be awake for another 3 or 4 hours but I know I shouldn't.
Anyways I shuffle quietly into the kitchen, arriving at the fridge. Before I grab a blood bag out of it I look around making sure no ones up. I listen in for voices or movement- nothing. I take a blood bag and the sharp but quick pinch in my gums indicates that of my fangs are present. I stand for a second, staring at this bag of blood amazed at how this can make my entire body feel like it's crumbling inside. How I'm now at its beck and call.
I rip open the top, going to actually drink from it normally this time. As I bring it up to my lips and a small smile creep on my face. I sip it, feeling instant relief.
The bag gets snatched out of my hands before I could drink further. I snap my head to- Kellan.
"What do you think you're doing?" He says, shrewd eyes staring down at me.
My fangs retract. "I couldn't go to bed, my... everything was hurting." I explain.
"Again. You force that down and ignore it, you don't immediately give into it. I mean what have we all been teaching you?" He exclaims and I open my mouth to speak but I don't get any words out before he continues. "You have to understand that giving into your hunger is a slippery slope." He says tossing the blood bag on the island counter, my line of sight following it then looking to Kellan. He noticed how easily it took my attention and flashed me a disappointed look.
"I understand. I wanted to not feel pain so I took a sip, I didn't murder a village." I joke, trying to lighten the mood and relax the indignation beginning to burn in my chest.
"Well that's next if you keep going like this." He says, without any hint of sarcasm.
"Are you kidding me?" I laugh.
"No, Morgan." He reprimands. "It's hard enough to get it under control in general but you're a full blood. It's even worse for you. The full blood twins overseas when they were transitioning it was bad. The horror stories I heard..." he shakes his head thinking of whatever these horror stories are. "I don't want that to happen to you. The more you succumb to it, the more difficult you're going to make this for yourself."
"I get that, I don't want that either." I assure him I have no intention of creating my own horror stories for people to shake their heads over. "But I feel like most of this is making dealing with this hunger even more difficult for me."
"What do you mean?"
I shrug and look away. "Honestly I feel like Grayson was kind of right. This half a blood bag thing doesn't feel like enough. I am in actual pain all the time."
His eyes narrow as his temper piques visibly. It's like I threw lighter fluid on a fire. "You're agreeing with Grayson?"
"That's not the point-."
"Has he been talking to you?" He cuts me off. "He's just trying to get in your head."
"I haven't seen Grayson for days and again this has nothing to do with him. I'm saying that I feel like-."
"His whole bullshit ideology isn't something you should be listening to." He crosses his arms, scowling not even trying to hide his anger.
"Oh my God, Kellan. I just..." my lips part about to finish my sentence feeling the leash I have on myself slip a little but I rein myself in. Besides he's harping on Grayson not the situation at hand. "Never mind. You're right, I slipped up. Sorry." I half ass an apology, just wanting to end this conversation.
"You can't slip up. Not with this." He scolds.
I rub my eyes for a moment. "Kellan. I am not going to be perfect with this."
"This is something you're gonna have to be perfect with, unless you wanna end up like Grayson or Victoria."
"Relax." I tell him. "I'm new to all of this. I'm not perfect with the whole blood thing, with anything. So please lower your standards a bit. I will get there, okay?"
He looks down at the floor exhaling deeply. "I'm sorry." He says finally in a calm tone. "I shouldn't have snapped at you." He pulls me into him, his arms securely wrap around me, calming me down.
"You don't have to be flawless at this right now, it's okay." He says like he doesn't fully believe it.
"Thank you." I say letting myself melt into his warm embrace.
"Seriously, I'm sorry." He says.
"It's okay." I close my eyes nestling into his chest.