I'm a newbie. Be gentle...
SM owns the characters, I'm just playing.
They walk among us daily. They own us. They take, feed and kill whomever they want, when they want. I'm just waiting my turn, really. I know my time is up. I'm in my prime. The law says they can only feed on humans who are over the age of 21. I just turned 22. The fact that I'm still alive after a year is an accomplishment. It would be foolish to think I'll live past 25. I'm trying to survive but I know if a vampire wants me, there's no escaping. No, I won't let them take away everything. I still need to live.
I am caged in this place. As soon as I turned 21, they took me from my parents to this city, this place where I'm with others my age waiting to die. The vampires live here too and pick us off one by one until they import the next batch of us. Others try to avoid leaving the safety of their homes but what they didn't realize is that locks and deadbolts do nothing to keep a vampire at bay. I guess the vampires enjoy playing with their food almost as much as killing. My parents are living safely outside the walls of the city. Vampires have no taste for older humans. They let a certain amount live with their children to keep up with the high demand. Every human is documented and every life is planned out. Mine is planned. I'm going to die.
Edward. I met him today. He found me. He appeared from an alleyway. I had seen a dark figure while trying to hurry home with food that would have lasted me a month.
He had startled me. "Hello." I immediately knew what he was. He was painfully beautiful. I gasped when he came within inches of my face. He leered at me followed by a glimpse of surprise replaced with a sneer.
"I'm glad to see your looks surpass your scent. You're lovely." Keeping his dark eyes on me, he grabbed my hand, turned it over and ran his nose from my wrist to my forearm.
"What's your name?" he whispered into my flesh.
I couldn't speak. I knew I'd be dead come morning. They never let their food live. I never see any humans with bites. Just dead ones littered on the streets. I looked at him with disgust. I wanted to run, to scream, to cry. I couldn't move. I was trying to figure a way to escape but his hands on my arm burned me to a standstill.
"You're afraid. Forgive me." He immediately dropped my arm. "I've forgotten my manners. My name is Edward. And you are...?"
"Marie." I refuse to give him my real name.
"Marie," he repeated. "I have to have you."