I wake with a start, petrified and dripping in sweat, or...water?
My bed is soaked, I'm getting angry and all I can think of is... Daisuke.
I take a shower, washing what ever liquid that besmeared my bed, off. I get dressed in the usual, black skinnies and a dark blue long sleeve
shirt (the only one I own).
It's 4 am and I know that the Ozeras are having dinner. What with Mrs. Ozeras aversion to sunlight, the vampires lair is more active in sundown
than sun up.
I brush my wet hair and roll it in a bun; as I reach for the brush i feel the touch of a cold stone. As i look down, I begin to scream.
My parents walk in ready (and dressed for) a fight. I'm more frightened by them then by my nightmare come alive.
"What Happened? Why did you scream?" my dad sternly inquires, his accent getting stronger by the word.
"N-n-nothing. I don't know what you're talking about. What are you guys wearing?" I state confuzzled
My parents oggle each other almost as concerned with their wardrobe as I am. My mom, dressed in a black tank top, black (what looks like
yoga) pants and a silver...stake?
"Um...what's going on here?" I forgot what it was that I was even screaming about.
"Are you alright Аннабел (Annabel)?" My dad states helping me up from the floor.
"I'm fine, just a little frazzled. Um, is it ok if I get my room back?"
My Mom looks to me concerned, and gives a tight look on her face. "Ann, your father and I need to speak to you."
"Роза (Roza), we can't, she isn't ready." My dad states patting my wet hair. You would think that I would care if my parents talk to each
other about me, in frount of me, but at this point; snarky witt seems to have no place at this time by the sorrowful look on my fathers face.
"Dimitri! Look at her bed! You can't coddle her forever!" My mother gestures sternly towards my bed. To my surprise, my father hardened his
face and leads me out of the room. I happen to slip the pendent into my pocket before either of my parents noticed.
We arrive at the dinning room, home of the only item that my parents always took with us whenever we moved. The oldest looking rose necklace, in-crested in silver and with a jewel in bedded into the center.
My dad hands me the necklace and asks me to hold it. I held the pendent into the center of my palm in wonder and confusion, when i look up.
My mother brought the silver stake down on the pendent (and my hand) crushing the rose and pinning my hand to the dinning room table below.