Maxwell
If she is expecting me to leave, she's wrong. However, instead of making her even madder, I sit behind her. This cockroach named Dave has not the slightest clue who I am, so when he makes eye contact with my wandering eyes he has no idea I'm thinking of the most efficient way to kill him, because apparently that's what I have to do.
First thing I would break each one of his groping fingers. Next, I would crush his kneecaps so he couldn't kick at me even though they would feeble attempts. With his screams shredding my eardrums, I would finish him off due to annoyance. The feel of his neck snapping beneath my fingers solves my problem. Although as he licks his lips while he stares at Charlie, my Charlie, I begin to contemplate ripping his throat out with my teeth just to watch him gurgle on his own blood.
When I see them start to rise, I quickly duck behind a nearby corner to watch them leave. Since I don't have a car to trail behind, I keep pace with them from the shadows. Knowing where exactly they are going, I allow myself to get there first to find the perfect hiding spot that conceals my spying eyes yet again.
Charlie had to have known that wouldn't listen to her. That I wouldn't, couldn't stop watching her.
Unwilling, my teeth extract, digging into my lower lip and my nails form bloody crescents in my palms. The overpowering sense of fear and annoyance coming from Charlie as she jiggles the locked door handle tests my willpower. One pointless breath after the other keeps my feet planted in the dark corner I hide in. All I can do is stand and watch as she gets irritated and then angry. When she finally exits the car relief calms my nerves. It takes every ounce of self-control I have left not to follow her home.
Grace has already left on her homesick trip or whatever it is she's feeling to make her go back there. I decide to keep my word to a point, more or less, keeping the parts that get me caught.
Lying in bed, I debate whether abiding Charlie's demands are worth it or not. If I do, I don't necessarily get praised, and if I don't, I get yelled at...as usual. At least I get some kind of emotion out of her. Anger is a very strong emotion.
When I told her my patience was wearing thin, I was being completely serious. I don't know what I have to do to get her to see me and me as a vampire. A light rapping on the door forces me to get out of bed and put my sour mood behind me, but when I open the door to no one my bad mood resurfaces. I don't think anything of it and slowly close it before going back to lounging around.
After I fall into the plush sofa, the doorbell rings again. In efforts of catching the pranksters, I rush to the door, violently swinging it open. No one once again stands before me, but I do however scare a young woman with dark blonde hair who's walking toward me down the hall. It couldn't have been her as I sense her genuine fear from being startled.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," I say as she walks past me. I catch a glimpse of her name tag. The Liberty Hotel, Daisy.
"It's okay. I've been told that there are kids in the building playing tricks on all the occupants," she replies, smiling kindly at me.
"Good to know." I shut the door, but remain at the ready for these supposed kids to come back, but after several minutes nothing happens. They must have gotten scared away.
Time slowly goes by. Night turns to morning, morning turns to afternoon, and afternoon turns to night.