I paced the cobblestone walkway to my mother's house. I knew she'd be angry that I was out hunting so late, and I needed an excuse. Sure I could have said my catch gave me a hard time, but that would be easily seen as a lie. She could see right through me when she wanted. But that was just the woman she was.
As I scratched my shaggy brown hair, I heard the doorknob to our modest home twist. Fear froze me in my unprepared stance. Shivering from the Alaskan cold air, with my pajama pants blowing in the wind, I found myself unable to think of an excuse in time.
The door slid wide open rather quickly, and behind the shimmering light of the house, was Erica. Her grey eyes were like little slits in their narrow sockets as she glared at me. Her normally straight, red hair was now a tattered mess from her fidgeting habits; most likely caused by my being so late.
Erica was my best friend in the coven. And I think the overall reason was because of her tolerance for my scent. With me being a werewolf, and her a vampire; well, most of the coven couldn't stand my smell, and the same went vice versa. Between me, Erica, and my mother, was a strange bond that seemed to have been made by the forces unknown.
Although she was much older than I, we got along great; Erica and I. She'd always been my confidant when I felt alone. Unlike my mother, she knew all too well what it was like to be alone. And with me being the runt of the litter, so to speak, she seemed to see me as paired soul. She helped me with my schooling, and as embarrassing as it was, sometimes baby-sat me while my mom went out to feed. And as she stood in the doorway, speechless with anger, I found that I wasn't the only one out late hunting.
It wasn't that she was mad at me for being late, but the fact that I was indirectly making her look like a bad baby-sitter in my mom's eyes. Though, she should have learned decades ago how kind and caring my mother was.
"Where have you been?" She yelled at me, making me instantly aware of all of the other people present. I should have been use too the fact that vampires don't care too much for drama, but still I waved them by as I marched inside.
"My meal got the best of me." I lied. She wasn't my mother, so my chances of getting away with it were slightly higher. Problem was, she could sometimes figure me out as well, and I prayed this wasn't one of them times.
"You know how your mom is when you're out late, especially when you haven't done your homework!" She lectured. Her feint smell of rotting corpse passed under my nose as I passed her and went into the kitchen to finish up on my schooling.
"I know. But I was hungry and she said I could go out tonight." I pleaded, hoping my case would suffice. Living in a coven of vampires left me without real food. I couldn't tell you what cereal tasted like, nor a good hamburger. These were words I knew, but all I could do was put a picture to them. It was like seeing Stonehenge in a picture book, but never being able to experience it.
She sighed as she realized our argument had become just another back and forth that would eventually end with me storming off to bed or her wrestling me to the floor with my arm pinned behind me. It was always a harsh blow to my pride when she did that.
"Can you just finish your homework so I can watch some TV?" She asked, letting me slide with my lies.
"Only if it's Gilligan's Island." I bargained, pushing my luck. I knew if I pushed her too far, I'd be on the floor with her knee in my back and me screaming uncle. And not to sound masochistic, but I always found it fun to fight with her.
"I was thinking more along the lines of The Munster's. That is if it's even on." She said trailing in her thoughts. With our cable coming from a North American broadcasting system in the central time zone, it was always a gamble with what was on. But I knew that Gilligan came on more than twice a day.
"Why not?" I said, giving in. I sat down at the kitchen table. Its white cloth covering was laden with my books and supplies. And at the time, all I had left were a few math questions. Sure I could have finished them before I went out, but when hunger strikes, everything seems to become drowned out.
As I twisted my pencil in my hand, trying to come up with a reasonable answer to a math problem I couldn't quite get the hang of, Erica decided it best to sit beside me and lecture me on why I wasn't getting the question as fast as I should have.
"Multiply the first two numbers in both sums, then the second and first. Those'll be your first equals." She said, tapping her fingernails on the table. The soft clicking sounded right through the cloth, and I wondered whether or not she was cutting into it.
"Will you pay attention?" She said, noticing I was watching her fingers rather than looking into my book.
"Okay, okay." I said defensively. "You don't have to snap at me."
"I'm not snapping at you, you're not paying attention." She snapped.
I multiplied the two and the three, then the four and the three. "A hundred and twenty-six." I said. And to my dismay, she rubbed her eyes and smiled at my wrong answer. "I'm not a math guy." I stated in my embarrassment.
"That much is apparent."
The door creaked open.
"Just put anything!" She whispered in excitement.
And I did without question. I wasn't even sure what I'd put down, but if they were numbers, what did it matter.
My mother strolled through the doorway, and in that instant, the smell of alcohol and gunpowder hit my senses. My mother was a strange huntress. She hunted evil men, or should I say that's what she told me. People who would do harm to others, and who couldn't keep from it were her prey. I use to think that she believed it to cancel out her own sin, but when I'd told her my theory, she shot it down. I hunt people like that to keep them from making the same mistakes that I'm forced to make year after year.
She held that same loving glance as she told me. She seemed to know I'd understand when she explained that in order to stay young she had to feed on people. Otherwise, she'd waste away into nothing. And that was my greatest fear.
"Good evening, Erica." My mother said sweetly as she took off her thick jacket. We all knew she didn't need it, but it did help her blend in when she hunted. And being around people, every one of them had to be careful. A thought that made me feel special, because I didn't. Sure I could take the cold nights with only my pajamas to protect me, but that was only after I'd changed; when my body was still trying to cool itself down from the constant friction that was caused by my transformation.
"Good evening, Mrs. Angela." She said smiling her grey eyes at my mom, who in turn looked over to me as I feigned completion of my homework and stacked up the forgotten books.
Her silky blond hair fell straight down across her shoulders with her bright amber eyes looking through them. "Did you get your homework done?" She asked.
"Yes." I said, hoping that my grades wouldn't be hurt too badly by my forced answers. If it showed up in my report card, I'd be in big trouble. But I seriously doubted four little answers would hurt my score, but then again, I was never a math guy.
"All of it?" She said, prying at me as she leaned over to take off her heels. She sighed in relief of the uncomfortable pressure that had built up under her feet, and tried roll it out on the black and white, checkerboard kitchen tiles.
"It's all done, mom."
"I helped him with it, earlier." Erica backed as she stood up and pushed her chair in under the table.
My mother smiled at my false compliance. "Well," She said, "Erica, you better get home before the sun comes up. I'd hate for you to get caught in the light because of me."
The thought was grim for us all. I'd never seen what it looked like, but I knew the light's heat was like fire to them. It tuned their skin black and burned it open. The sight must've been sickening. But it was a horrible truth that they all had to live with.
Erica agreed, and left quietly after patting my head and saying I was a good boy. A notion I let slide because of our current audience.
"Are you ready for sleep?" My mom asked, half-yawning.
"Yeah." Her yawn made me yawn and she laughed at me for it. "What's that?" I asked, noticing that she'd brought in a rather large, rectangular present. It looked to be half my size. It also looked to be only an inch thick. Must be a poster or something.
"Why don't you open it?" She asked, smiling.
As I walked past her and grabbed the present she began to smile more and more. "I remembered that you've never seen how cute you are." She said, hinting at what the present might be.
When I'd finally made the first rip in my new present, I saw to my great delight, that it was a mirror.
I'd never seen myself before. I knew I had fairly tan skin for someone who lived as a vampire. I also knew I had long brown hair that I'd refused to have cut. It wasn't like I was sporting a mullet or anything; it was just unusually long for a boy my age.
When I'd finally ripped the paper away from my new present, I finally got to see what I'd looked like. My hair was a mess. That's probably why she wanted me to cut it. Its tangled rat's nest look was enough to make me laugh uncontrollably. "Oh my god, my hair!" I said when I'd finally caught my breath.
As I gazed into the mirror again, I noticed something truly special. I couldn't have asked for a greater gift than to know that even though she wasn't my mother, Angela and I shared the exact same eyes. "I have your eyes." I said in a soft gasp. I felt as though I were looking at her child rather than myself. I actually felt at the time like I was her biological child.
I brought my hands up to my round face as I traced the edges of my features. Everything matched, and if I wasn't being too shallow, I was a handsome kid. And sure I was only twelve at the time, but I rather enjoyed my looks at that moment. Ever since I can remember, I'd never known what I looked like, and I could only react as such. I didn't care to have my springy hair cut, nor did I worry whether or not it looked like I stuck my finger in a light socket. But now, I had a reason too.
"I need a haircut." I said almost inaudibly.
My mother laughed, "Finally, you see things my way."
