The days were drab without the bliss; the constant plunging of fangs and stimulated endorphins would call out to me all day. I knew I was addicted, and there was no changing that. Although I was very well fed and taken care of, because they wouldn't want any of us, lord forbid, dying on them, I was small and pale. I was small and pale, weak and sad, fragile and pathetic, needy and desperate. On the off days, a period of rest so I would have enough blood to survive, we were all antsy. We all wanted that high feeling, that lovely drug, and we all needed to be separated from our suppliers, so we wouldn't be begging for them to bite us, drink us, and causing annoyance. Through all of this, the pathetic weakness, my true colors shined, and I was at an all time low.
~6 months earlier~
Under that highway, that damned highway, I had wasted 15 minutes crying starting up my cycle again. Hours earlier I had the unfortunate opportunity to experience the devastation of losing my dad while in combat, and hour earlier I had been writing a letter to contact and reach out to him. It'd take 2 hours of continuous over analyzing to even process the words of the phone call. After it'd sunk in I'd struggled with the, at the time, never ending hellish cycle of crying, screaming, and hammering the cases of my dad's war medals. Only an hour of letting out my rage and disappointment, I had come to the conclusion I would drive off the one of Portland's grand highways, the one I'd be crying under approximately half an hour after my resolve had crumpled.
I could never do this to my mother, the same woman who'd drive over that highway everyday while taking my to school, telling me the lovely stories of when she'd grown up here, and all her lovely high school experiences. The same woman who declared when it came my time, when I finally reached high school, which I had now, I would have such a lovely experience to the same degree, minus the fact I was socially unaccepted and lacked in the department of allies. Oh sure, she was gone now and wouldn't be back for another month, I would never have to see the direct consequences. But when I imagined her collapsing under the weight of two deaths, I couldn't do it. I mean the cost of two deaths, medical bills and stress of her job, which was to be in charge of private schools all over the world, she would literally collapse and probably be emotionally unstable. While in the midst of recovery her position would already be filled and the world moved on, where as she would be stuck in that emotional mess, her intimidating skin deep strength dissolved and unable to pick back up again.
Just imagining this made me lose my confidence, so I opted out to abandoning my car in the middle of the road, so I wouldn't be the only one suffering, while I cried under the highway, while sketchy looking druggies stared at me, weirded out and bothered by my loud, unintentional attention whore one man show. I couldn't control my pathetic self and was so vulnerable; I was practically screaming, "Kill/ Rape/ Rob me!" to those around me. I could hear the vigorous honking up above, obviously caused by the back up in traffic and law abiding citizens, hopefully someone would smarten up and hijack or tow my car instead of wasting their time waiting for me to move it out of the way. The looks the people gave me when I got out of that car and walked in the lane behind the moving cars were of fury and awe.
Finally someone spoke out to me, a chick with divots in her skin, marking at least a year of drug abuse and acne scars. She was hideous and when I looked down at her arms I was revolted, it looked like she'd been trying to pull the inside of her arm out, which she had succeed in beginning to do. The pus had come out and her arm had become infected, it emitted an odor of it's own and if she were to go to a hospital would probably get it amputated right away. It was unusable and limp by her side, while her fine arm worked on lighting a joint, and then moving on to injecting into her leg a syringe.
" Daddy not give you the pony you wanted?" Her words were slurred and her teeth black and rotting.
"'Cuz that's what happened to me." She gave me a large smile. I tried to scoot away from her, but was clumsy and open for attack, weakened by the depression blow, she scuttled closer at a rapid speed. Her face loomed into mine, her bulging eyes so close I screamed.
"Uhuh, Daddy's little girl." She laughed, not moving her face, pure joy crossing her face.
"Got any money?"
"No," which was true, I hadn't planned on taking any possessions with me when I planned on dying, "If you want though, my car is on the highway."
"Nah, I'm happy down here." She finally backed away, unhappy with my response, me turning out my pockets just to prove it to her.
Because the lady had been speaking with me, it attracted all the other people down there to come speak with me. They all asked for money, no one too hostile. But eventually one man down there grabbed, the cleanest of them all, and gave me a tight caring smile.
"You don't belong here, get out. I'd hate to see you get ruined because of these people." I had recognized this guy, he must have climbed down from the freeway because he was in the car behind me. He grabbed me by the arm and started walking me up over the fence back up to where I needed to be. I noticed though my car had been rammed off to the side, but the traffic still wasn't moving.
"Because of you I'm late to a very important meeting, because of that and the fact it seems you have a death wish, I'm sure you'll happily be able to fulfill my requests, and if not, I'll still make you."
"Wait what?" It didn't matter what I said though, because this guy, although very attractive and trustworthy looking, had the burning eyes of hatred and an unnatural amount of strength. He'd forced me into his car and put on the child lock, so there was no way out without killing either one of us. I tried to hit him, as any person with sense would do, but ended up being knocked out in a matter of seconds, not a thing I could do. I had left my house with the intention of death, but was now probably on my way to becoming a prostitute for a pimp. Either way, I didn't have to deal with my emotional slop at the moment.
I came too with a killer headache, and a face looming overhead. Not that of my kidnapper, but that of a teenager, maybe around 15, at least a year younger than me.
At that moment I let out a blood-curtailing scream before anything could be done. The kid looming over me just laughed, his image still fuzzy from the pain. In a garbled voice, I heard a vague explanation from my kidnapper.
"Because you kept me waiting, I had lost the chance to meet up with a prospective feeder for Prince Serial, because of this, he lacks in enough people who can feed him regularly without dying on him." I had no idea what that even meant, but I just couldn't. I was frozen, the processing to hard, the effort to exhausting, the depression to fierce. I just couldn't do it, I didn't care, not in the least about what was to pay, from losing a feeder or what the fuck a feeder was anyway.
"You sure this is alright Devin?"
"Of course, she was down with the bottom feeders under the highway, plus she looks fresh, only a wannabe experimenter. Look at her she's clean. She was down there anyway, no other reason then to let off a load."
"Yeah but she looks too fresh, I don't know if I could do that too her, this is nothing like what we've done before."
"Think of it as a service, you won't be harming her as bad as if taking those drugs would be, she's the perfect solution, don't think about it, just do it." Through all the confusion and daze, the garbled words came through, a weird coaxing between the young boy and my kidnapper, and the context confusing. It didn't take much for everything to click in my mind though, as two sharp points stabbed through my neck, and a sense of bliss washed over me, floating me over into a sleepers paradise.
A/N: Yay, finally got that done, after a few mis uploadings, oh well, I wrote this on a whim and will be over soon, so I hope you enjoy it while it lasts, please do express any emotions about this, maybe the fact that it's fast paced or maybe the fact I don't give you colors. Anyway, I'll be more descriptive later, but I wanted to set this up. Read it if you like, read it if you don't like too, I don't judge, have fun. Comments would be nice but aren't required, you won't be graded down if you lack in giving feed back...
Slipsilvermoon
