PLEASE LEAVE ME COMMENTS SO I KNOW IF I SHOULD FINIISH THIS OR NOT. TYVM
Chapter 1
My name is Angelique but everyone calls me Angel. But, hey, don't let the name fool you. I'm more devil than angel, to be sure.
First off, let me say this: I've been told that I have the mouth and vocabulary of a drunken sailor. So True! I use words most women don't, and hey, I don't really give a fuck about what other women do or say. I was born and raised on the streets of Brooklyn in New York, and yes, I am typical of the women who are from Brooklyn. We are often said to be loud, tough, crass, and rude. We are also said to be conceited, and egotistical and the biggest bitches known to mankind, but you know, if you really think about it, we are actually well rounded. As my BFF's always said, we are bad to the bone! And damn well proud of it.
Really, if you aren't tough living on the streets of Brooklyn, you will get pushed around and walked on, and that's a fact. I decided early on, that no way was I going to allow anyone to push me around or bully me. I fought back and soon the bullies knew who I was and not to underestimate me. While living in Brooklyn, it didn't take much to piss me off and even less to kick someone in the balls for pissing in my Wheaties.
Those attributes may not be acceptable in society, however, we Brooklyn girls are also extremely independent, which is a good thing as we never look to another to give us what we know we have to earn ourselves. We take no handouts, and no freebies from anyone. We learn to make our own way, from birth, and stop at nothing to get what we want. How bad can that be?
Therefore, I make no excuses regarding myself and how I act, or things I say. I am me! Take me or leave me, either way, I'll be fine. I'm okay being alone, it ain't no skin off my back, believe me. Either you like me, or you walk away, end of story. So, yep I am a bitch of the highest order, and I'm quite proud of that fact. Please note, I don't offer you any apologies whatsoever, so please don't expect any.
P.S. my parents moved us to Palm Beach when I was 13 years old. They decided to get me out of the hood before I did something stupid and ended up in prison. It was certainly a smart move on their part. Though I was still tough, I didn't hang with the wrong crowd anymore. All the girls around here are prim and proper, ugh, and though I didn't fit in right away, they began accepting me after I put a bully down for bugging one of their friends. From that day on, I was part of their "gang." Life was much easier for me after that.
Just a tidbit of history for you. I have smelled "evil" for as long as I can remember. But, only when I went out at night, and never during the day. I found out when I was 18 what the putrid smell was that made me sick to my stomach. Vampire. I know, you say, my family says, my friends say, there are no vampires, it's all a myth, a story of fiction. I know better. However, I'll get on to that later in the story. Needless to say, there are vampires. They do exist.
And because they do, I'm a Vampire hunter. I kill renegade vampires for a living, however I don't get paid. I guess you could say I'm doing it for the good of humanity since it is humanity that is getting the shitty end of the stick where renegade vampires are concerned. Every day, Master Vampires turn innocent humans into killing machines. Now, their numbers are growing in leaps and bounds. If something isn't done soon to eradicate the renegade vampires, this country, maybe the world, will be under siege by renegade vamps. Blood suckers will be the majority, and we humans will be the minority, and soon become extinct. If that doesn't make you sick to your stomach, I don't know what will. Read on, this does become interesting, I assure you.
The alarm clock is screaming letting me know that it is 1:30a.m., and time to get up to go hunting. I'm just too tired to move. Actually, I'm exhausted. It's been a wild and crazy week around this ole homestead and I would love just a few more minutes of closed eyelids time. Don't think I'm going to get that though as I can already feel the stares of my dogs as they wait impatiently for me to get out of bed and get ready.
Did you ever feel like someone or something was staring at you even though you couldn't see whom or what it was that was staring? My two pit bulls, Champ and Bully do that to me all the time. Even now, as they lay on the floor, next to my bed, waiting for me to get up, I can feel their stare. Even when I'm in a dead sleep, their stares wake me. It's almost eerie, you know?
My eyes stay closed because I am trying to get a couple more minutes of rest, so I tell them not to stare at me. They understand every word I say to them believe me. Don't let a dog fool you, they are more intelligent than you give them credit for.
They stop staring at me for a minute or two, but then I can hear them moving around again getting impatient with me for not getting up, so they start staring at me again. It literally drives me nuts and as I fumbled to turn off the alarm, I decide to hit the snooze button instead which would allow me a few minutes more sleep, just to piss them off.
"Ha! So who's the boss now?" I say to them as I push myself deeper into the covers of the bed and snuggle. Hell, I know I should be getting up to face my task, but, I'm just too freakin exhausted. When they see me hit the snooze button on the alarm clock, their bodies slump to the floor as if in resignation that they would be here for a while longer than they wanted to be. I wish I had their get up and go, I'd be a power machine, but, I don't, unfortunately I'm only human.
A few minutes pass and then I hear the pacing of the dogs again. They are more determined than ever to get me up. Since I have no carpeting on the floor, I can hear their nails hitting the wood floor as they pace back and forth, and, they whine incidiously. Forcing me to open my eyes, stare at the ceiling for a minute and then shimmy to the side of the bed, look down at them, and shush them. They put their heads down on the floor and allow a final grumble escape their throats in retaliation of my command. Even dogs expect the last word and I allow them that because I'm just too tired to argue with them, however, they do know who the Alpha is around here, and they never challenge that fact.
I used to go out hunting alone each night and I liked it that way. I had no one to worry about but myself. Then, renegade vampires killed my parents on Christmas Eve one week ago, and Champ, who was my mother's dog, had no one to take her, so I got her. I didn't want her at first and tried to get my sister Dawn to take her, but Dawn had a no pet rule where she lived, so I was it.
She is a 3 year old massively built pit bull, black and gold brindle in color, with cobalt black eyes, and a temperament that can flip from bad ass to that of a poodle in 5 seconds flat, when children are around. Is she a Brooklyn born gal or what? Training her was easy. She learned to discern renegade vampire from a human within days of coming with me and soon she was cornering renegades and holding them in place until I was able to stake them. I began taking her with me at night when I go out hunting, as a sort of backup for that just in case scenario involving renegade vampires.
Her sidekick is Bully. He is a 2 year old red-nosed pit bull that I rescued from the shelter. His coloring is beige and white, and he is taller and more fearful looking than Champ. He is the kind of dog that when he shows his teeth, you know you're in trouble. His canines are similar to a vampires, long and sharp and ominous looking.
Bully's owner was arrested for fighting pit bulls down in the hood off Tamarind Ave. in West Palm Beach. The SPCA confiscated him along with the other pits that was used in the dogfighting ring, and although the other dogs were euthanized because of their bad dispositions, Bully was the one dog that displayed none of those tendencies that normally gets a pit put to death, so he was saved.
Still, the SPCA had wanted to euthanize Bully because he was so emaciated. His owner starved his dogs to get them to fight more readily, and more viciously. Bully looked the worst of all the pits. He looked as though he hadn't eaten in months, and if he was offered food by his former owner, judging by his stature, it was a minimal amount only, to keep the dogs blood-thirsty and eager for the kill. The bones of his body protruded so badly that the vet told me that Bully would be lucky if he lived through the week in the condition his body was in.
Since the vet at the SPCA is a friend of mine and he knows I have an affinity for pit bulls, he called me to see if I wanted to try to save Bully's life and to nurse him back to health. I never planned on falling in love with him or adopting him. I just couldn't stand to see a dog in that condition and thought I could help him, and then when he was better, I'd turn him back over to the SPCA for adoption. Yeah, that's what I thought would happen. Instead, I adopted him and gave him a home and a job.
It took me almost 6 months to get Bully healthy enough to leave the house and come to work with me. He went from emaciated in stature, to a fully developed massive muscle machine. During his rehabilitation, I would go out hunting, slay a vampire and bring the vampires dust back to the house with me so that Bully could smell it. Champ would sneer and growl as she smelled the dust, and before long, Bully took note of what she was doing and he did the same.
When he was healthy enough to go out hunting, Champ took it upon herself to train him for me. Before long, everyone knew of meand my dogs and they feared the three of us, which is a smart thing.
Now, Champ and Bully wait for me to get up and go out hunting. They know my routine. They are by now, sitting up, their eyes fixated on my face and they are staring at me. I think they know that I am tired. No, they know that I am exhausted. Their demeanor is more quiet and reserved as they sit and wait for me. Usually they whine endlessly to get going. Tonight, they saw the stern look I gave them and when I pointed to the floor they both quickly went down to their bellies and were quiet.
My parent's funeral is today; I stayed home last night and tried to relax, instead of going out fighting. Relaxing would have been great, but I wasn't that fortunate. I went to bed around 10:00 p.m. thinking I'd sleep soundly and be refreshed for the funeral today. Yeah right, now that was a pipe dream to be sure, as I was awake more times than I was asleep.
I woke up every freakin half hour because of that damn nightmare. Each time I closed my eyes and fell asleep, the nightmare began. I could see my parents sitting side by side on the living room couch. My mother was laughing at something my father had said. They were incredibly happy. But, in an instant, the scene changed and I saw them lying on the living room floor with their necks slashed from ear to ear, and two vampires leaning over them as if in a tender embrace sucking the life out of them. If one didn't know better, one would assume that the vampires were human men, attempting to give mouth to mouth resuscitation in an attempt to bring life back to the bodies they had just been sucked dry. Key words: if one didn't know better. I, however, did.
I knew they were vampires. I knew their fangs were jammed into my parent's necks draining the blood out of them. My screams wake me up time after time, and though I'm pissed off and royally angry, I go back to sleep in hopes that the nightmare will turn around and give me a different ending. No such luck. I dream the same dream repeatedly, perhaps to ingrain the faces of the animals that killed my parents into my brain, so I can identify them when I finally find them and stake them.
The service for my parent's begins at 8:00 a.m. It is exactly one week after they were killed by renegade vampires. I've gone out every night looking for those fuckin' vampires and I'm royally pissed off at not being able to find them. They're hiding. They know me. They know I won't give up until I find them. I want to do to them what they did to my parent's. I want to put them out of their miserable existence. Every day as the sun sets I gear up. I think of nothing else. My mind is numb and my heart is cold.
The alarm clock begins to scream again. This time, I make sure I don't hit the snooze button, and when I slap the correct button to turn it off, I jump out of bed and head to the bathroom to take a quickie shower. I am soon dressed in my usual black wife-beater t-shirt and black leather pants, topped off with steel toed boots and a floor length black leather coat.
Champ and Bully watch me get out of bed and begin prancing in circles, anxious to get going. I look at them and tell them to calm down and they listen to me immediately by quieting down. I can tell though that they're more than ready to go out hunting. I can see their bodies vibrating as they anxiously sit and wait for me to rock n roll.
I put my hair atop my head in a bun and keep my face naked of all makeup. I don't "pretty up" for vampires that's for sure. I don't bother making a cup of coffee either, I'm wide awake now and don't need the caffeine this morning. My adrenalin is kicking big time, and my nerves are on edge. If I need to, I'll stop at Dunkin Donuts and pick up a coffee later on when sleep tries to hypnotize me into believing it's time for bed. Until then, I allow my hatred and anger to fuel my body and keep me moving.
Every weapon I use to kill vampires is stored in my basement in a locked closet, so I head downstairs to gear up. No one knows about this stash of weapons I have and thankfully the police didn't ask me to open the closet when they were here investigating the death of my parents. I don't know how I could have gotten out of being a suspect if they'd have seen what I have in here. Had they asked me and I came up with a story that was feasible maybe they would believe me but I doubt it. I'd probably be in jail right now counting the days until my electrocution for murdering my parents. (shiver)
Right now, I can't think of the if's. I have to gear up and get out of this house and get myself close to the action before the sun comes up. I call Bully to me and he comes willingly. He knows what is happening, and he knows his job. I outfit him with his harness where I have placed wooden stakes in pockets that have been sewn into the harness. He stands patiently and when I have put the last stake in the harness he begins prancing around me, letting me know he is anxious to get going.
I fill the pockets of my leather coat with wooden stakes as well. It is a long coat, flowing to my ankles so there are plenty of pockets for my arsenal of weapons. I take my Glock off the shelf of the closet and check it to make sure the clip is full, and as usual, it is. Soon, the Glock G-37 is in its holder on my waistband and sterling silver knives dipped in silver nitrate are shoved into my black steel toe boots. All of the above help to keep me alive and the fact that I am a black belt in Ju jitsu helps. Oh, and of course my dogs, they get a lot of credit for keeping me alive, that's for sure.
Right now I'm like a bear, and I know I have a scowl on my face, with my eye brows pinched together. No one will have to guess what my attitude is like tonight, they just need a peek at the scowl on my face. I'm going to be a bigger bitch tonight than I usually am, and you know what? I don't give a shit. Let anyone say one fucking thing to me that crosses me and I'll probably knock the shit out of them in a New York heartbeat, and laugh as I'm doing it. Pissed off is not the proper word to describe how I am feeling though. But then again, after the last sentence, I think you get my drift.
I take the basement steps two at a time and head out the back door to the car, followed by Champ and Bully. As I leave the house I smell the air. No vampire is hanging around. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I can smell renegade vampires and to be honest, they smell like my dead cat smelled after lying dead in the hot Florida sun for days. Putrid! Let's just say, it was the most putrid smell I've ever had smelled and renegades smelled just like that. Rotting, coagulating blood. (shiver)
"Lucky for them, they get to walk the earth another day." I laugh as I walk to my car.
I jump into my old beater of a boat Volkswagen beetle that my parents gave me as a gift when I graduated High School. Champ and Bully are already sitting in the back seat since they'd jumped into the VW through the passenger side window that is always in the down position. They are ready and poised at each window with their heads sticking out of the window. I swear they are smelling the air for renegades.
The VW has been my "Jessie" since high school and I've been lucky that in all these years she has served me well. Jessie starts up immediately and I head out to the busiest part of Palm Beach, which of course is City Place, where I know tourists are sure to be. It is the hot spot of Palm Beach and because of that I know that vampires lie in wait for some poor fool who wanders away from his friends perhaps entering a darkened alley by mistake, where he becomes food sport for the hungry vampires that roam the streets after dark. They suck him dry and then the police cover it up with some cockamamie story about a body being found in an alley with a bullet hole in its chest. Uh huh. I guess there are citizens that would believe just about anything, but I know the truth.
I park on a darkened street where only drug dealers and hookers hang out and after Champ, Bully and I get out of the car, we walk to the darkest part of City Place which is an alley behind the many restaurant/bars that are still open and serving people. Anyone else walking the streets at 2 a.m. would be accosted, or robbed or raped. Me? I'm known down here in the hood. The dealers and muggers leave me alone. They know I'll rip their arms out of their sockets, and kick them a couple of times in the balls if they accost me in any way. One thing is for sure…getting kicked in the balls will guarantee no unwanted babies in the near future. Hey, the more I think about, the more I'm convinced that I might be doing them or their latest flavor of the month, a favor. And the taxpayers as well. It keeps the chick off welfare to pay for that baby. So yeah, a kick in the balls is a good thing. Also two mean looking pit bulls walking beside me is enough to keep anyone away from me. And, the look on my face pretty much tells them "fuck with me and your dead" and that is enough to scare anyone so they leave me alone.
I've walked purposely to the darkened alleys behind the bars and restaurants that are by now closing. The only people milling about are drunken patrons trying to get to their vehicles to drive home, or employees doing a final clean up before leaving for the night. I'm standing between dumpsters, hidden from view, just waiting. I won't say patiently because that would be a lie. I want vampires here and I want them here now. The desire to kill is so intense that I can't stand the fact that they aren't showing up, and I find myself kicking and punching the dumpster in anger. Champ and Bully look at me as though I've lost my mind, but from what I can see, by their demeanor, they are disappointed in not seeing any renegades as well.
When my temper calms, and my body stops vibrating, I check my watch and see that I have been standing between the dumpsters for over two hours, and I figure I may as well go to the cemetery and see what's happening there.
I'm not going to the church for my parent's funeral service, I can't. Not in the mood I'm in. I'm likely to hurt an innocent there if someone pisses me off, so I'm better off just going straight to the cemetery.
I turn the key and Jessie's engine roars. I sit listening to the engine purr, like a cat that is extremely happy and for a split second my body relaxes and my brain stops churning.
Sighing, I put Jessie in drive and head to the cemetery on 10th and Kirk in Lake Worth, where my parent's will be buried. It's a fairly large cemetery devoid of vegetation other than grass and a cluster of trees growing in the southwest corner of the cemetery. Champ and Bully begin to stir and move around a lot in the backseat. They are whining and I know that they want to get out of the car and go snooping for vampires. Both are staring at me, their eyes pleading with me to allow them the lead. I nod to them, and they hop out of the car window. I watch them as they stop moving, their bodies tight and tense as their heads are turned up toward the wind. They smell the wind but then calm down, letting me know that the area is clean. I knew that already though, my own nose told me that fact, but, I allow them to think they have just saved my life, by sniffing the air. That, I can tell pleases them to no end.
The sun hadn't come up yet so there was a chance that the vampires that killed my parents would eventually be here. They would be here to gloat, to laugh at their dirty deed, and to celebrate. And they would attack me. I wanted them to attack me, so that I could stake them and turn them to dust. I needed to kill them. I wanted to sprinkle their dust upon my parent's coffins. I wanted them buried with my parent's for eternity, as punishment for their dirty deed. My parents are not alive and if they can't be on this earth, the vampires shouldn't be taking up space here either feeding on the unknowing.
I finally decide to get out of the VW and walk around the cemetery. The fence surrounding the cemetery is taller than any that Champ and Bully have ever jumped over, and the bars are spiked. "Looks like you two might be staying behind" I say to them. No vampire is worth my dogs getting hurt, that's for sure. One wrong slip, and whether the bar spikes were sharp or not, the end result for falling on one is impalement, and death.
Champ is looking at the fence. And then out of the blue, she runs and jumps over the fence jumping higher than I"ve ever seen her jump. She easily makes it over. Bully begins to whine and is staring at me waiting for me to give him the go ahead. I nod my head and before long, he is jumping over the fence as well. As the fence separates us, they look at me as if to ask my why I'm still on this side while they are on the other. I laugh and climb over the fence and join them on the other side. They are like little kids, proud of themselves for showing me how it's done. I give them each a treat and pet them and then we begin walking the cemetery.
I have to let myself been seen, if I am to do any fighting at all. As I walk around the cemetery, looking at the names and dates on the headstones of people who have passed on to heaven, I keep my hands in the pockets of my jacket where stakes are hidden, waiting to be used. I am ever aware that vampires can attack me from behind, but, I do have an advantage. My nose. Vampires don't realize that I can smell them before seeing them. And since I always know what direction they are coming from, I am always ready for their assault.
I walk slowly to where the backhoe is being used to dig my parent's graves hoping to be attacked before I get there. I smell nothing out of the ordinary but I stand quietly beneath the cluster of trees watching the backhoe as it scoops dirt out the ground for my parent's coffins.
I walk into the clearing and before long, the man driving the back hoe sees me and looks at me indifferently. "What do you care anyway?" I say to him aloud but he doesn't hear me, the machine is too loud and it muffles the words I am screaming. It's not his fault they are dead, I know that.
The two people being buried here are no relation to him. He didn't know that they were loving and honest, and giving, and compassionate. To him, this is just a job, I think as I watch him. I resent his job. I resent him doing his job even though I know that he may not have a choice as to what job he can do. Perhaps he is an unskilled laborer, or an illegal, or just not smart enough to work at any other job, oh hell maybe he just likes digging graves. That is possible. He is diligent and he ignores me as I walk closer to the holes he is digging for my parent's. I'm scowling at him, and I think he can tell that I am anxious for him to finish as I am now pacing back and forth along the length of the holes he is emptying.
She felt as though she were going crazy. Her head felt like it was splitting wide open from the migraine that had crept upon her as she stood and stared down into the hole that the backhoe had dug. Her migraine slammed her full force across her forehead digging itself deep within the recesses of her brain. It only added to her miserable disposition and pissed her off more.
"I pity the person who crosses me today." Angel said as she reached into her purse and grabbed the Aleve bottle, unscrewed it, and shook two pills into the palm of her hand and then popped them into her mouth. She was lucky she could swallow them dry and didn't need water or she'd be SOL (shit out of luck) if you don't know what that means.
Even standing here at the still empty graves of my parents, I can smell the remnants of the vampires that had stalked the cemetery during the night. Oh yes, they have been here alright, waiting for me to appear. But, there was another here as well, one of a different scent. The smell of Drakkar noir filled my nostrils. Oh I know that is a scent developed for men by some fragrance company, but that scent is the smell of a vampire that does not drink the blood of humans, though quite honestly, I have not smelled many good vampires in my life, nor do I know what they drink. Pig or cow blood maybe? My stomach retches at the thought, and I am afraid I'm going to puke right here at the gravesite. It is sickening I know. Maybe one day I'll be able to answer the question of what a good vampire drinks, but, for now, I have no clue.
Good and evil surrounded me on a daily basis, I've become used to it, yet still I stand, stoic, waiting and watching and ready. Ever so ready. Fucken A I wanted some action!
"Come on you bastards, one last fight for the day, let's do this." I whisper to the wind as it whips around me forming a mini tornado with the loose dirt of my parent's graves. The sun begins to rise, and I realize that I have lost the opportunity to stake the vampires. No matter, I will at some point in time. I will hunt them and when I find them, I will stake them. Of this I am sure.
They didn't come and since the sun was rising, they were probably sleeping. Oh and in case you're wondering…..No, they don't necessarily sleep in coffins, though some might still uphold the ways of the elders. But, most of them have evolved over the centuries to a more modern manner of "living". Like us humans, they now sleep in beds in nice houses in nice neighborhoods. They could be your neighbor, you just never know. How often do you see your neighbor out during the day? Do they only go out at night, work at night, shop at night? See? You can't be sure your neighbor is not a vampire, can you? Hey, just think about it will ya?
But, now is not a time for lesson 101 in vampires. Now is the time for my grieving and I have to remember what I am here for. Besides remember, vampires sleep during the day, so we have time for that lesson later. Right now back to my story.
It's freezing here at the cemetery. I mean really freakin' freezing. It isn't often that freezing weather graced south Florida, but there were some winters that were as cold as the northern states. Temperatures could dip to the low 20's causing orange crops to freeze, and frost to build on windshields of cars as well as on flowers and shrubs. Since the cemetery was only blocks from the ocean, it and its surrounding buildings always receive the full brunt of whatever weather was being offered by south Florida on that particular day. Today, it was freezing, dreary and over cast, and I wish I'd been smart and had worn a heavier coat. Leather just didn't cut it in cold weather, that's for sure. It almost felt like snow. Smelled like it too. But, that is impossible in south Florida. If it did happen to snow, it wouldn't last long as the temperature wouldn't allow for it to stay.
I watched the sunrise in the east, and looked around me. How depressing. What I couldn't see when I arrived earlier was how dingy the cemetery looked. While dark, it was serene, and beautiful. Looking around me now I can see that there isn't one patch of grass here was wasn't crying out for water. Water restrictions due to the drought Florida was experiencing this year forced limits on everyone, business and residential from watering lawns and plants to 2 days a week. With the heat of the Florida sun hitting degrees of 90 or more in the summer, any watering that was done was almost for naught. Nothing flourished, it just withered away.
No flowers could be seen on any of the gravestones and the ones' that did have flowers; I could see weren't live flowers, but plastic ones. The people buried here seemed to have been forgotten. Would Dawn and I allow that to happen to us after a couple of years? Would we forget our parent's and how important they were to us in life? Would we forget the love we shared? The holidays, the happiness, the laughter, the corny jokes, and the pranks we played on each other? Would we?
Time slips by and soon I am standing before the coffins as they are being lowered into the ground. My sister Dawn is beside me holding on to my hand and squeezing it tightly. She is crying I am not. I will shed tears when it is time to shed tears, and not before then. Up until this day, I have cried a river of tears, and have decided that I will not cry again until the vampires who killed my parents are really dead and turn to ashes.
I am freezing as I stand on the damp earth below my feet. The cold permeates the soles of my boots and makes its way up my legs, causing my bones to feel like ice blocks. I pull my leather coat tighter around me to ward off the brisk winter air and I stamped my feet on the ground to try and warm them, though honestly, that does absolutely no good. It's downright cold standing at the gravesite of my parents, and I can feel my body begin to shiver and my teeth rattle as the cold breeze encircles me and holds me tightly in its grip.
I am surrounded by hundreds of my parent's friends who have come to bid them farewell. All around me I can hear voices whisper prayers for a speedy return to the Father (God, in case you're not sure who I'm talking about). Hands touch my shoulders as people who have said their peace begin to say their goodbyes and then trickle away to their waiting warm vehicles. I smile and thank them for coming and soon I am standing next to Dawn, we are alone and for the first time in my life I am at a loss for words, and don't know what to say. We are both mute. We are both shivering and although there are no tears slipping down my cheeks, Dawn seems uncontrollable in hers as she blows her nose loudly and wipes at her eyes and cheeks in an attempt to stop the flow that is like a river overflowing the river's edge after a rain storm.
"I'm sorry Angel. I have to leave." Dawn says through her sobs. "I just can't stand it here any longer it's too morbid and depressing. I'm going home….you coming?"
"I'll be along shortly." I say. "I just need a few more minutes. I'll call you when I get home okay?"
We hug each other tightly and when we part, my sister nods her head and allows her "boyfriend of the week" Tim to escort her to the waiting limousine. I watch as she walks away, leaning against Tim's body as if trying to blend into him and I instantly feel hesitant to allow her out of my sight. I don't like Tim. He is a spineless shell of a man who lives off my sister. He isn't a vampire, but, I don't think he would hesitate one bit becoming a vampire if he thought it would bring him fame and fortune. I wonder if she will be okay. Could she be next? Dawn didn't believe in vampires or ghouls. No matter how many times I told her to carry a stake in her purse, she wouldn't. She pissed me off so bad one day when she laughed at me for telling her to be careful when out at night, I almost smacked her into reality. But, I didn't, I just kept a watchful eye on her without her knowing and prayed that she would be okay, and so far, so good.
It was going to be harder on my sister than me, I thought when I finally looked up from the gravesite and watched the limousine pull away. I didn't blame Dawn for leaving so quickly after the service. And, I didn't blame her for wanting to be anywhere, but here. Hell, I didn't want to be here either. I wanted to be at home, listening to my parents argue with each other. I wanted to hear my mother laugh at the corny jokes my father had told so often over the years that the punch line was ingrained in her mother's brain since she knew the joke by heart, and she would mouth the words he was going to say, even before he said it. Then she would laugh even though the joke might not have been funny enough to warrant laughter. My mother was pragmatic in that way. I missed her terribly, and can't imagine my life without her.
Yes, I wanted to be anywhere but here. However, here I stood, alone, with only the wind and freezing cold as company. I no longer cried. I had shed enough tears since my parent's deaths to fill an ocean, and I could cry no more. Now, I'm just angry, very angry. They died needlessly. They were too young to be dead. They did what they had said no parent should do. They died before their children. And, that made me so angry I could spit! My hands curled into fists, and for an instant, I felt like throwing a temper tantrum to let them know that they had really screwed up. I wanted to stomp MY feet and scream and yell and throw something, anything. Not that a temper tantrum would have done any good or that they would have noticed. They were dead. And now, it was just my sister and I. We were alone in the world with no other living relatives.
"Doesn't this just fuckin' suck?" I whispered to myself since no one was around but the ghosts of those that have passed and gone to heaven.