/*This story takes place in the universe of True Blood. Though original characters have not appeared yet, do not fear. They will be incorporated into the story without a doubt. All comments are welcome. */
CH 1: Reckless
Something told me that when I woke up that it would be no ordinary day. The sun rose like normal, far too early. I wasn't ready to wake up—I never was. My groggy head from the nights before always made the next day a struggle. But that was the way I lived. Reckless. I pulled the people in my live close to the edge with me—a destructive friend. I had spent the night running around the city with a man I met at a dirty little house party.
"Let's get out of here," a blurry face suggested to me.
"Sure," I said, my voice detached as the lights swiveled around me. I pulled my jacket across my shoulders and reassured myself that I was still wearing shoes. I adjusted the dress I wore as I sat up, making sure everything was covered. Pushing the hair out of my face, I briefly wondered how my bun got so disheveled. Finally, I reapplied the purple lipstick I had worn out that night. The face growled something he thought sexy in my ear as his hand squeezed my ass.
I pulled out of the bed in my dusty apartment. My toes met the cold, wood flooring and I flinched at the stretching and pulling of my muscles. I truly wasn't ready for this morning. I dragged a brush through my mess of hair.
The face's apartment was so clean, sterile. Reminded me of a hospital. The white walls made the room feel larger than the true dimensions.
"If you want to smoke, go out to the balcony," he coughed, pulling out a pack of Marlboros himself, along with a Bic. I nodded and joined him outside. He slid a cigarette in between my lips, and lit it for me. Finally lifting an arm, I took a drag and pinched the cigarette between my fingers. The dead Louisiana air failed to pull the smoke away from us, so we stood in a haze together, him behind me, grinding slowly as we stared across the street.
Finally flicking the stub away, down the several stories to the street, he turned me around to look at him.
"You sure this is what you want, babe?" he asked, pulling me into his solid body.
"Yeah, it's exactly what I need," I answered, taking a final pull of the Marlboro before letting it join his on the street below.
"You told me your name is Columbia, is that true?"
"Yeah," I slid past him back into the apartment, being sure to stealthily brush across him.
He lit candles in an almost ritualistic way. Sitting in the center of the bed, I waited for him as the 60-watt soft white was replaced with the glow of candles. When he got in bed with me, he was already naked.
"It'll hurt, a lot. Prepare yourself," he warned. I felt him enter me then, while suddenly, though not surprisingly, his teeth sank into my neck.
Finally mustering the will to walk to the bathroom, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. The face had destroyed me. My body was a sick rainbow of bruises. I couldn't bring myself to be upset. I could cover these bruises with my clothes. The only thing that honestly bothered me was my swollen and purple bottom lip. That was harder to hide.