My eyes unseal, and a blurry image of someone bending over me appears at the slightest crack between my eyes. I have to flutter my eyelashes for a few seconds to finally make the figure clear, revealing Alan staring at me from an aerial view with a concerned facial expression. That expression only surfaces when I have been out all night and get in at the crack of dawn with the sky turning from an ominous black, to the calm pink, and then eventually to the ocean blue that tells me it's time for the Daytime Sierra to crawl out of her shell and into the hateful light that makes me feel like I have the worries of the world upon my shoulders, weighing me down into a numbing state of mind.
Attempting to ignore Alan's disturbance, I rotate on my left side only to see Edgar's intimidating face glaring me, his arms crossed are laying down the mattress that I rest on and his brown eyes inherited from me narrow in anger.
"Have fun with bloodsuckers last night, Sierra?" Edgar suspiciously quizzes, his eyes getting even narrower then they already are; if he reduces them anymore, his eyes will close.
I groan tiredly and move onto my opposite side. My eyes drowsily slide shut, I hope they won't make any more attempts to develop a conversation with me. I comprehend who they were discussing about, it can only be about David and the others. My brothers have it in their brainless skulls that the guys are vampires.
It is hard to believe they are really teenagers. Their absurd, idiotic games could cost me friendships I have grown to depend on. I have friends in high school, but I crave the guys freedom and their troublesome nature I love dearly, they present me with another life I can enjoy and live to the fullest.
Also, when would I ever get to see Star and Laddie? I can't abandon Laddie just in a second, like I assume his parents did. It would be cruelly unfair to him to bring up all those painstaking memories for the sake of two brothers who let their imagination get to the better of them. As for Star, I need Star. Star and I have been best friends since kindergarten.
We've always been there for each other and with no one else but Star who will emotionally support me, I would soon go into a depressive slumber that I would never come out of.
Before she was stolen from me on a lukewarm summer's night, I could always count on one woman in particular. One of the reasons I despise walking past the sea of faces imprinted on the masked graffiti wall, is because one close person is one of the pair of eyes stalking me whenever I walk past whether it is day or night.
Delilah. My older sister Delilah, went missing in the night-time when those most dangerous lurk in every corner, where they are hidden from others on the streets, even with the great bright moon shining upon everyone and everything. July 7th a few years ago, I awoke to cops in their black entourage of mystery and fear knocking on the door. Coincidentally, the weather matched what was to be my mood for the rest of the daytimes of my coming life.
Rain droplets pelted down onto the land of Santa Carla that day and musty grey clouds loomed down on the earth. The soaked men asked for my parents, but as it has always been like - they were never here.
My parents, Judd and Petal Frog are never haunting my view. They are among the disorganised household but never emerge from their hobbies of smoking pot and making love. Mom and Dad are like those invisible specks of dust you will rarely see fall down, graciously dancing in the sun's rays. There is a difference though, my parents were never graceful. In fact they shame the family Delilah and I had tried to build for Edgar and Alan.
They won't co-operate, Mom and Dad are too stuck in a fantasy of what is being high and erotic. That destiny changing day, I was forced to hear how my sister had not been seen since the previous night and how our chances of her being alive were grave. It was exactly like stabbing a knife to my heart in the most excruciating way possible to man.
"You still haven't answered our question!" Alan shouts in my ear. With my eyes shut tight, not willing to open back up again, I search desperately for my blanket that I use as a cover during my only time of peace. After all the patting around, I finally discover it and drag it over the top of my head in an act to try and silence the boys protests, only seconds later to have it yanked off.
"Well come on, Sierra! What were you doing with the vamps?" Edgar investigates, now only inches from my face. Though my eyes are not viewing this, I can feel the warmth on his sugary smelling breath. At least they've had breakfast today, unlike any other day when they are masterminding their plot on how to successfully attack and slaughter a vampire.
"Piss off, guys" I murmur in the darkness, my eyelids guarding me from the light. I'm feeling like such a mess, if I had a mirror I bet it would shatter into a million pieces. Finally, Edgar and Alan exit my hideaway from daylight. I listen to the footsteps leaving, I am finally in a mute sanctuary.
"You will answer us sometime, Sierra! You can't keep quiet forever!" Alan barks, the echoes bouncing off the walls until they reach my ear drum. So much for silence.
My eyes flash open immediately. The room isn't so fuzzy from when I had first awakened from the undisturbed paradise that died when my brain decided, only to be reborn again when the ecstasy of the night had perished. I check the area of the microscopic room noticing how much of a bombsite it is. The what is supposed to be a wooden flooring, is camouflaged by mountains of clothing being built up and up as time passes. My bed is constantly looking like a paint explosion with the blankets scattered along the area of the mattress. I might as well be living in a pig sty.
Once the coast is clear, I tiptoe soundlessly to examine my reflection.
Russian red lipstick is smeared along my face from moving hands in the night wiping the colour astray, and my dark brown corkscrew curls have transformed into a fuzzball over night, reminding me of those silent movies in the 1920's where after a terrifying eruption, the person emerges from the wreckage with wild crazy hair. My reflection is the total opposite of how I was viewed last night. I look a state.
Then, the black and white photo on the side captures my attention, those same dazzling wide eyes spying me. The eyes that stalk me around every corner of Santa Carla. But these eyes are the eyes I hunger to find again. Delilah, the eyes I know for a fact would never lie on me again.