I met the vampire for the first time on July 6th of my sixteenth year. It had probably been the worst summer of my life. I had been dragged to England to see Dad. We'd been distant since the divorce, which was fine by me. I hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.
Anyway, it had been a bad day, full of awkward conversations starting the second I got off the plane. He met me with a paper saying "Tolan" on it. I guess he thought it was funny. He hadn't changed much since I last saw him, nine years ago. He'd grown out his beard slightly and had gained a few pounds but other than that he was still the balding, stout old man who I'd last seen when I was seven.
"Hey, Tolly." He called in his cockney accent, ushering me over. I rolled my eyes. "How's it going bud?" He patted me on the back and winced. The plane ride had been unbearably long and boring. Jet lag caused me to be extremely tired. All I wanted was to sleep. However, my dad didn't notice.
He grabbed my bag and began leading me to the parking lot. I gasped as rain pelted me from above. It was cold and sent shivers down my spine. "Yah, I guess you don't have this kind of weather back in Montana, do they?" Dad asked.
I shrugged, getting more and more annoyed by the second. He pulled out an umbrella and tried to cover both of us with it but it covered mostly him. I pulled my thin windbreaker around me tighter. I imagined myself in a cartoon with a black scribble clouding above my head.
We got to his car in minutes and while he piled my bags in the boot I leaned back in the shotgun seat. Why was I here? No, I knew why. It was my mom's fault. My stupid mom and her stupid new fiancé. When Dad found out she was cheating on him, he did the logical thing and divorced. I didn't blame him for that. I did blame him for not getting custody over me. No, my mom got it. So now I have to live in Montana with my stupid new stepdad and stupid stepsiblings. God, I hated my life. The only thing I looked forward to was riding my horse Ginger. However this summer I wouldn't have that at all. I just had more rain and British people. Great!
I and my dad drove along the busy roads until we reached his apartment. We parked and I was about to get out of the car when I realized the car was locked. I rolled my eyes. "Tolly, I know you didn't want to come. I know you're mad at me and your mum but I just want to know…"
"Dad!" I cried, cutting him off. "I don't need this talk. You know I'm mad and I am. We both know this is gonna be painful." I pulled the lock up on the window and jumped out of the car into the rain. He was about to call me back but I turned and walked back anyway. "Oh and Tolly is the name for a stupid little kid. I know that's who I was when you left me but I'm not that anymore. I'm Tolan, your son. The son you left behind!"
And with that, I ran with all my might into the apartment building. Dad had given me a key to the apartment while we were in the car so I stormed into the small flat. I slammed the door behind me and saw the pictures twitch on the wall. I couldn't help but feel satisfied with it.
I threw my jacket on the floor and stormed into the guest room that he'd said would be mine. Locking the door behind me, I flopped down on the bed and tried to hold back the tears of hurt that had threatened to spill over minutes before.
A few hours later the rain hadn't let up and Dad knocked on the door. "Supper's ready," he told me. I didn't answer. "Toll- Tolan I know you're upset but you need to eat sometime." No answer. I could see him hovering outside the door, about to knock again but he eventually gave up. He'd keep my dinner in the fridge and I'd heat it up later…once dad went to bed.
I got up and walked across the room. It was empty, save a few photographs on the desk and an ancient looking computer. I leaned over to stare at the pictures. A woman was sitting on a bench with a man laughing next to her. The other was of the same couple except the woman was holding a baby. I knew they were my parents and the baby was me.
I didn't remember that but that wasn't surprising. I couldn't be any older than a year in the picture. I was smiling too. That was when we were happy. Before Mom met Patrick. Before I heard Dad and her arguing every night.
I pushed the frames down on the table so I didn't have to see the memories. After staring at the overturn frames for a minute I pulled my bag onto the bed and rooted through the front pocket. Trash and gum wrappers slipped through my fingers until they connected with the photograph I was looking for.
A girl sat on a wooden fence, one foot sitting on the fence and the other dangling over the side. She had long curly auburn hair, falling down the back of her old red shirt. It was naturally curly; catching the sunset with is gleam. She wore tight jeans and brown boots, made from a supple soft material. Her skin was tan and her face was upturned to the sky. Her eyes were a light brown shade, twinkling with a smile.
"Annabel," I muttered, staring at the girl. My beautiful Annabel. So young, only fifteen. And she was gone. Gone forever and I would never see her again. I gasped and a caught a sob in the back of my throat.
"Who's that?" I gasped and crumpled the picture in my hand, but my dad had already seen it.
"Nothing, no one," I cried, trying to slow my startled breathing.
"Your mum told me about what happened. About the accident. I'm so sorry Tolan."
"Dad, it's none of your business. Why do you care? You weren't even there when it happened." Tears were threatening to spill again. "And I'm over it! It happened a year ago. It doesn't matter." He and I both knew I was lying but he didn't calling me out on it. He stared at me for a few minutes and then nodded.
"I'm just…sorry. There's some supper left in the fridge. I'm going to bed." And with that, he shut my door again. I didn't have dinner that night. I didn't leave my room. I just sat in my bed and cried.