Title: Early Dawn
Author:
Summary:
In the early dawn, sunlight would first stream through the cracks in the draperies. Lighting on the floor, a brightly lit crescent ray would reach the opposite wall, the gleam behind the thick curtains growing brighter and brighter until the whole room was aglow. Shadows would lie on the floor, casting darkness around the objects of the room. My eyes would narrow from the brightness as they adjusted to the unrelenting rays. Even if the curtains were pulled closed, there was always even the tiniest bit of light that shone somewhere in the vicinity and this was the fact that made me appreciate it….. The last sunrise.
Where there is darkness, there is light, but I don't believe it now. There is too much difference between the two, like water and fire. I do not believe that the darkness has to be evil, but is rather a notion, like a scapegoat to explain the phenomenon that drags all mortals to their doom. The evil that lays in all mortals hearts…………..
But am I mortal?
Questions like this are designed to besiege my mind, and I struggle to confirm the yes and no of the question.
No. Not mortal. Not human. Should I be?
Definitely not, I should dare to say. I have been dead for more than a century. Should I be alive now? No mortal can live that long, even if they are in perfect health. One can live to one hundred two, one hundred five maybe, but farther than that? No way, it's like asking what time it is when it's clear that you have a Rolex on your wrist, especially if it's working.
There is a little known fact about me: I am colorblind. There is little color in my world, ever since I woke up screaming my heart out one morning when everything took an Alice in Wonderland twist and turned grayscale. I have forgotten the color red. Even though it is a primary color, I have never been able to see it.
To me, blood is a dark gray.
How ironic. Blood, the staple of a vampire's life, is unseen in all its crimson glory. I remember the many times that I sat down in my childhood licking a dull gray lollipop, telling my mother that the lollipop tasted delicious, and if she would give me soon. She would frown, and tell me that it was all right.
Fortunately for me, I have learned to identify the varying shades of colors by the shades of gray. Light grays are light colors, and dark gray is red, blue, and deep greens. But I have always been able to see black.
Always.
This particular morning I am woken up by an insistent pounding on the door to my room. It is the same person who knocks on the door everyday. He is a human, but I know that I can never hurt him, for he is my friend.
The pounding turns into a groan of despair. "Kei," he sighs, "for once, be awake when I'm awake, will you?"
He hears nothing from me except for a small shuffle on my bed. Once the point is clear, I hear his footsteps recede softly back down the hall to the living room.
Getting out of the bed after I'm sure that Sho is in the living room and staying there, I sigh and light a cigarette to cure the nicotine addiction for the time being.
Padding softly to the door, I peek out it carefully. It would be awkward if Sho caught me at this moment. But as always, he has the worst timing.
"Kei?" I resist smacking my forehead, the only reason being my dignity. There's no need to show Sho how embarrassed I am at being caught at such a strange moment.
"Baka," I answer to hide my embarrassment, "I'm already awake." He seems unperturbed, if only a little bit curious.
"Na Kei, I was going to tell you that I'm stepping out for a bit," Sho quietly counters, hands moving into his pockets in a shy manner.
"Have a good time, ne," I tell him sarcastically, "Don't get lost."
The only answer he gives me is a small shake of his head and the words, "Of course."
His blood is a dark gray, staining the sides of my vision with its scent when I open my eyes. He's panting in desperation, clutching at the front of my shirt weakly. The blood is everywhere on Sho, his shirt nothing but a mass of tantalizing blood, flowing from a wound in his shoulder.
I'm frozen in fear, for there is first the smell of blood, such sweet blood. Sho's eyes are half open- he's struggling for consciousness.
"Kei," he gasps, "hosp… ital" The strength suddenly leaves him, and he collapses onto the floor in a heap of exhaustion.
"O god… Sho," I whisper fearfully before running to the phone for the hospital.
It had been a day. Just a day.
The hospital where I take Sho is like any other hospital in the world: it reeks of disinfectant and death. Nurses and doctors overpopulate the place, and there is the clinking of medicine bottles against one another, half full of drugs. There are many deaths in Mallepa, and the hospital is just too crowded for my taste. Luckily for me, I am admitted with only a glare and quite murmurs.
Sho is lying on one of the cheap beds that crowd the hospital wards. Room 313, I note, as I open the door open a little further hesitantly. He is asleep, and won't wake up anytime soon. The doctors have already determined that he is not in a coma- he nearly disabled an orderly while slipping in and out of consciousness. An after the battle reaction, I tell them.
I suddenly spot Shinji at one of the chairs at the corner of the room, lost in his thoughts in a miserable way.
"Was he awake?" I ask him with concern.
"No," he replies blandly, "Not a sign."
"I'll find out who did this."
"You do that." We stare at each other for a long moment, a mutual understanding between us. Our thoughts are directed at the well-being of Sho for now.
And that is all that matters.
