Vampire Tears by Smiles-to-Smirks.
Chapter One
There was once a little boy with his mother's honey blonde curly hair and his father's tiny cleft in his chin. His eyes were as blue as the sky and he always seemed to have the biggest smile plastered on his face. He was loved by his parents and considered a miracle to all.
Every night this little boy sat on his Mama's lap and together they read poems. He loved his poems and tonight's poem was 'It's Okay to Cry.'
It's okay to cry,
All you have to do is don't be shy,
And what I'm tellin you is not a lie,
Even the sea sometimes cry.
Its okay to cry,
Because once you were a little baby,
And you had to cry,
And what I'm telling you is not a lie.
Its okay to cry,
When when he or she has passed on,
Because we all need something to latch on to,
Look around at the ones who cry,
And see thats your proof.
When these life is all gone,
And no shoulder to lean on,
And we're singing our death song,
I'm telling you its okay to cry.
Come on,
Cry,
Cry,
Cry.
Come on let it out,
And I'll be their to dry them out,
So let it out now,
Because its okay to cry,
All you have to do is don't be shy... and just let it out.
But they were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was strange as the family were not expecting anyone so late in the evening and they lived in the middle of no-where in Houston, Texas, so it wasn't as if someone had accidentally strolled across them.
So his Mama placed the young boy on the floor, with his book in his lap, in the corner of their living room and went to answer the door with his Papa.
As they pulled back the old whicker door, they were met by a very beautiful girl who must of been around the age of nineteen. The little black haired girl, whose features were clearly Mexican, was short with long black hair in contrast to her olive toned pale skin. She would have appeared to be innocent if it wasn't for her eyes, red like fire and her malicious smile that seemed to have made a permanent placement on her face.
Slowly she nodded her head towards the little boy's parents and three large men ran out from the dark and past her, pouncing on the unsuspecting parents. The beautiful woman stood by and watched as the men dragged them by their feet into the living room and her smile grew once more as they started to rip them open and feed from within them.
The little boy sat in the corner of the room watching the big scary men with red fire eyes tear his life apart. He did not understand what was happening. All he knew was he wasn't going to see his Mama and Papa again. So he started to cry.
The beautiful woman smelt his salty tears and approached the child. She picked him up and as he began to struggle against her, she smacked him across the face. The power from the blow was strong enough to knock the tearing five-year-old child out.
When he woke up, he was in a shack with a single door and no windows. The floor was made from dirt and there was nothing in the room, apart from the single light bulb hanging down from the ceiling. A piece of brown rope encircled his waist which led to a tiny hook that had been obviously hammered to the floor with force as it was bent crookedly to the left. The four walls that boxed him in were made of wood with words painted out in blood 'Welcome Home Jasper Whitlock.'
A/N : Poem by Eddie Levert Smith. Please comment.
