4. Melted Butter

The cluster of buildings loomed up before me. The medical center owned by NYU. It seemed almost entirely made of glass, there were so many windows but of course it wasn't. That wouldn't exactly be safe for the patients now would it? The purple circle that was its logo appeared sad for some reason. Maybe it was the lack of sun, I don't know, but it depressed me. Even more than I already was.

Winter in New York meant minimal sunlight. Which I suppose, is good for me. As soon as it became clear the sun would not be making an appearance any time soon, I began wandering. I tried avoiding heavily populated areas (almost an impossibility in this city) so as to no be tempted by anyone's blood. But I guess it was too much to ask for. Everywhere I went, people stared, people tried to talk to me, some people even followed me wherever I went - easily fixed when I flashed my teeth at them. They would not leave me alone! One man offered me his coat - I was still just wearing my thin hoodie and jeans from the skating night, almost a week ago - but when I put it on I was so immediately overwhelmed by his scent that I threw it back at him and ran away. Since then I had been holding my breath and only traveled near walls and dark corners so no one would see my eyes, the irises of which, had not toned down in redness. I was becoming weak though, and tired. Not in the physical sense, but mentally. I wanted to slip into my PJs and bury myself within the warmth of my bed. Even if I didn't feel the need to sleep anymore, I wanted to. Sleeping was my favorite pastime. It helped me escape from a bad day. A bad week. I was having a bad week, the dryness in my throat etching itself into each and every one of my thoughts. That's why I was at the hospital. Maybe, just maybe, I could sneak by and grab myself a couple of blood bags. Then, I could fulfill my needs without having another murder on my hands. Right? By now, I had accepted that I was no longer human. However, that did not mean I wanted to accept what I had become. Instead, I just called myself 'monster'.

This is so unfair!

All my life I'd been the nice girl everyone could count on, and I didn't mind that one bit. I liked it. Having so many friends who trusted you and who you could trust right back. Other than paper cuts, I hated any sort of blood-inducing wound and now blood is all I think about. This all sucks, no pun intended.

Earlier in the day, I had walked casually by a guy selling knock-off sunglasses and easily scooped up a pair. I wore these now, covering my eyes and most of my face. These shades were huge! I felt like Paris Hilton. I could see all sorts of people milling about in the hospital lobby. Mostly medical students and sick people. Most of them looked normal, but it was strange. It's as if I could smell their sickness. Which, when you think about it, is really gross.

A little girl tears open a glitter-clad present. Inside is a pair of socks. The girl's face falls and tears well up in her eyes. "I HATE YOU!" she screams at her parents. Later that day she finally realizes that they had hidden a pair of diamond earrings in each sock. By the time she goes to apologize to them they were already on their way to a friends' house. On their way there, a semi truck collides into them and they die on impact.

...

A man and a woman are sitting on a bench. The man gets down on his knees and proposes. The woman is overjoyed. They get married, have kids, grandkids. Now the woman is on a hospital bed, tubes sticking out of her from any possible surface. The line on the monitor goes flat and the man breaks down. He's holding on to her hand so tightly.

...

The memories run through my mind, appearing and disappearing quickly. They're not my memories of course; they're the memories of the people around me. I found out what these images were when I went to visit Lex.

The third night after I woke up I went to her house, scaled the side of the building until I reached the thirty-first floor. Heights still scared me, but I was no longer afraid of falling. I knew my... skills... would prevent that. When I reached Lex's floor, I punched through a window easily. The glass didn't even leave a scratch on my hand. The corridor was long and dark. Even so, I could see the door to her apartment from far away. I remembered Lex telling me that they had buried a spare key in one of the many plants in front of the door. Crouching down, I sniffed each plant. There. The metallic smell was coming off of the pot in the corner. Key in hand, I quietly slid it into the keyhole and pushed the door open ever so slowly. The entire place was dark. Everyone was asleep. Not a surprise since it was two in the morning. My feet automatically guided me to Lex's room. I opened her door a crack. She was on her side, back facing toward me. The wave of memories coming off of her was almost as staggering as the smell of her blood cloaking the room. I quickly stopped breathing and paid attention only to the pictures she was painting in my head.

We were lounging around my living room, waiting on the brownies in the oven. Lex eventually dozed off, the magazine she was reading fell to the floor beside me. I picked it up and flipped through it. I dozed off too. Next thing I knew the house was looking cloudy on the inside though outside the sky was clear. "The brownies!" I shouted, simultaneously waking Lex. We rushed to the kitchen. As soon as I opened the oven, puffs of smoke enveloped the whole room. By the time my parents came home we had tried opening all the windows yet the smoke clung to everything. After my parents gave Lex and I a lecture they made us eat some of the gross, dried out would-be brownies. After we got over how much the brownies resembled saw-dust in taste and texture we couldn't stop laughing about our flakiness.

It was only then that I realized the images I was seeing were memories. I barely had time to think about it when Lex had another flashback.

She was lying in bed, her face was covered by the pillow but by the way her shoulders were shaking it was clear that Lex was crying. Suddenly her phone rang, causing her head to snap up and look at it. The caller ID showed that it was me calling. Lex ignored my call. But I called again. And again. And again until she finally picked up.

"What?" she snapped uncharacteristically.

"Lex? What's wrong? I didn't see you after school. Cammie said the last time she saw you was fifth period. Did you skip?"

There was a brief pause before Lex abruptly burst into a fresh round of tears. "Liam broke up with me!" she wailed.

I remembered this. After Lex had told me that, I immediately hung up and was out the door in less than a minute.

The doorbell rang and Lex grudgingly went over to answer it. I stepped through the door the minute it opened and hugged Lex, letting her sob on my shoulder. I slept over that night and listened to her rant about Liam, cursing him, missing him, berating him, then berating herself briefly before I told her to cut it out. She did nothing wrong.

This memory was filled with the faint pain of losing Liam - faint, because she was over him - but accompanied by the larger, more unbearable pain at losing a best friend. Right at this moment, Lex was remembering a dream she had a few years earlier. It was one where she was at a funeral for all the people she loved. The gravestones with her loved ones' names stretching in every which way. My name among them. Now I knew. Lex thought I was dead.

For the millionth time since I first saw the businessman's memory, my heart ached. It twisted and turned in odd directions and caused me so much grief I didn't know how I was still alive.

I stayed a moment longer. Long enough to discover that Lex hadn't gone to school this whole week. That she'd stayed in bed, only leaving to go to the bathroom. I wanted to wake her up. To tell her I was all right, that I was alive. But I couldn't do it. For the same reason I couldn't see my parents. I didn't want to lose control. I didn't want to kill her. So, after whispering a quiet goodbye, I left her room, left her house. And here I was, standing outside of a hospital a week later. Reliving the painful flashbacks of everyone who was in some way connected to this place, or the people in it.

Gathering up my courage, I squared my shoulders and started walking towards the automatic doors of the hospital.

The lady at the desk had her head bent over some files. Everything about her was scattered. Her expression, her hair, the whole desk where she no doubt manned most of the time.

"Excuse me?" I asked, trying to sound as sweet and innocent as possible.

"Yes, hon?" Despite her appearance, the voice that addressed me was patient and warm.

"Um, I was wondering... I mean, my cousin is here. I want to visit her."

"Sure, what's her name?"

I took advantage of my eyes and peeked over at a file a doctor was holding ten feet away from me.

"Kathy Gorde."

The nurse went back to flipping through the papers on her desk. "Ah, here we are. Gorde comma Kathy. Room Eight."

I arranged my features into a grateful one even though on the inside I was surprised they didn't ask any further questions.

Everything here was white. Sterile. The long, clean hallways made my pale skin crawl. I snorted. I thought monsters were fearless.

The door to my right was marked 'Storage'. I had no idea if they stored donated blood there but I figured I would just check.

No luck.

Each promising door was a dud. Nothing but bandages and scrubs and first aid kits and things I didn't even have a name for. I sighed.

I should probably get out of here, I thought. Before the smell of blood pushes me to the edge.

Just then I heard someone gasp. I turned to see two men in white lab coats. No, not men. Gods. They were beautiful. Stunning. I felt my jaw drop. They were about the same height, though one looked older. Both had ghostly pale skin and their eyes were the color of melted butter. The older one had very pale blonde hair. His face was kind and instantly made me feel at ease. The younger man, although he didn't look exactly unkind, his face was more severe. Pensive. He made me wary and self-conscious. My eyes traveled up his head and settled on his hair. It almost made me laugh, it was so odd. I'd never seen bronze-colored hair before.

The blonde doctor took a step toward me. "Sunglasses indoors. Is that what the kids are doing now?" he laughed light-heartedly. "Would you mind taking those off, dear?"

I just stood there, thinking how I didn't want to deal with their reactions if they saw my eyes. My blood red eyes.

Bronze-head put a hand on Mr. Blonde's arm and muttered something under his breath. I'm sure if I had not been turned into a... you-know-what, I wouldn't have been able to make out the words, but I heard them. I heard them clear as day.

"Carlisle. She's a newborn."

Hope that leaves you wanting more. xP Don't forget to review!