By: Sister of the Shai
Not So Sweet Sixteen
Thunder ricocheted in the valley as my feet gently glided down the dim hallway. Lightning struck, rain drummed furiously on the pale glass wall, and the faint glow from the hall light flickered and went black. The house was unknown but vaguely familiar, like I had been here before. I veered from my path to a closed oak door on the right side of the hallway and reached for the solid brass handle. A shiver ran down my spine as the door slowly crept open. Two figures were standing close together, one bent over the others neck. A crack of lightning shook the floor and a body dropped to the ground. The figure that had been hunched over with their back to me stood motionless for a brief moment, then slowly turned to face me. A flash of lightning from behind him concealed his face in shadows as he stretched a long, pale arm to me, even as fear coursed through my veins, I mirrored his motion and took a small step forward to meet his grasp.
A blood curdling scream ripped through my body as I woke from the reoccurring nightmare. 3:24 beamed from the digital clock on my bed side table, it was going to be a long morning. Adrenalin still pulsed through my thin silhouette, toes curling on the cold wood steps on the way to the kitchen. The glass cups in the cupboard softly chimed as one of them was removed, and though it was calm outside, the thunder still bellowed deep in my thoughts. Cold chocolate milk dribbled down throat as the dream replayed over again. Sixteen times this dream had occurred, and sixteen times it confused me.
"Arabella Aspen Fox, get your lazy bones down here!" Impatient as always, I thought as I gently shook my head. After the nightmare had finished its run, tranquil dreams filled my eyes. The subject matter hadn't changed, vampires still consumed my mind, but they didn't drain the life from helpless humans, and the lead vamp in my dream was played by my best friend. How ironic, the one person I trusted most was now the most dangerous thing for me to be around. Poor Izaya, that means he was turned, or born a vampire, doesn't matter though, because if he was a vampire he would have told me by now. We've been friends since middle school and we have no secrets between the two of us, everything he know, I know and visa-versa. Besides, if he was a vampire wouldn't he be trying to kill me or turn me? Unless I had dormant vampire blood running through my body.