I slipped down the ivy line that curled up to the windowsill. I was used to the short climb, I knew where all the crannies were to slip your feet in. Thud. As soon as I hit the ground I was running off into the alley. I explored until I reached my ''balcony''. It was the end of an alley that had a 50 brick-high fall. On evenings like this, I would pretend that I was a princess on an island full of wonderous things- spices, rugs, ostrich feathers… crunch. What was that? I thought. Yes, I defiantly heard a footstep on the cobblestones. Then, a voice called out, '' Look whata I gotz me here! Hey, pretty girl!'' The voice was amused. I tried to be still, and make myself small, but that was inpossible with my predicament on the balcony. Two shallow breaths. In, out. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and knew that the man had seen me. Ambling forward, I could tell he was drunk by the way he walked. Maybe I can hit him, and run back to the veranda. Then, the man unleashed a blood curdling scream. It sounded inhuman, but atop of him was a…thing. It looks like a leech. The thing detached itself from the man, who, strangly, I pitied. The thing slowly turned its head toward me and I was shocked by what I saw. He had the face of the moon. He. I did not know that they came so good looking, pale, and undefined beauty. Raw. In a studdering voice, I asked him, ''What are you.'' This might have been an idiotic move because I had no idea if it understood Italian. His accent was perfect, as he stepped forward and said, ''I apologize if I scared you miss, but I believe that I should drop you off at your home now. Against my better judgment, I stepped forward to see him better. His mouth was covered in the blood of the man, almost purple in the pale moonlight. Murderer. More shock. He tells me to get on his back and tell me where I live. In some sort of trance, I step forward. In, I don't know, it happened so fast, I was on his back and I could feel the place where he had grabbed my arm. His back, under a loose, white shirt, was like laying on the floor of the tiny cellar in winter. I shivered, and he asked,
'' Where do you live?''
'' Two alleys down to the right of Market square.''
Squeezing my eyes shut, I decided to count to 10. I only got to 4 by the time he fluidly pulled to a stop and said, ''We are there.'' I climbed down, one foot away from the ivy wall. As he turned and zoomed off without a word, I quietly whispered, ''wait.'' Two seconds later, he was by my side again. ''Yes?'' He inquired.
'' You are a blood-theif.''
''Yes.''
''What is your name?''
''Santiago.''
And with that, he dissapeared into the night.