When I had gotten home the following afternoon, I was horrified to hear that my plan didn't quite work. That is to say, my mother had guessed I would skip out on dinner and told me the wrong day! Instead of it having been Friday, like I thought it was last night, it was tonight…and I was home, caught and all. I think what little bit of hope I had left just kind of fell and shattered, honestly. My mother knew me well and had proved it.
So I spent the day in my room, pacing and thinking. Even though I had come to accept that it was for the best, I still didn't like playing the part of a martyr. By the time evening fell, I had completely forgotten about the vampire, Steve, and even the flute in my pocket. I was more distracted (and horrified) with the thing that my mother told me to wear: a pink dress.
Dear. God.
If it had been on anyone else, I'm sure it would have been fine and lovely…but it wasn't. It was on me. Oh how I itched for my hat back! Once I looked presentable – whatever that meant – I stepped downstairs and held my breath. There was my fiancée to be.
The dinner was a blur in my mind; I don't even remember eating anything. All I did remember is staring at Mark as he talked about himself. Constantly. Nonstop. It was hell. Even my father started to nod off and would have too if my mother hadn't jabbed him. Mark wasn't too bad looking, but he was older for certain…and just…so distant from me. I mean, we were on separate planets and he was only aware of his own pull.
By the time it ended, I had quietly walked back up to my room. I knew my sister and father wanted to talk to me, to cheer me up even, but I had avoided them all day and now into the night. What could I say to them? Everything would be awkward. And truth be told, I just needed time to process it all. Alone. No Steve, to Jaime, no dad…just myself…and that flute.
It was well past dark by the time I got into my room and locked the door. I went to find my jeans from earlier, pausing to open the window. I wouldn't run off…but it felt nice to have the wild wind breeze into my room. Such a tease!
When I found the flute, my hands were trembling. I was excited to see, to feel what I had last night. I kicked off my stupid wedges and went to the window, sitting at the edge. I licked my dry lips and wrapped them around the flute, my arms shaking. When I inhaled deeply however, my body stilled just long enough for me to try and play something.
….Nothing. There was no effect no matter how close I got to the song that Crepsley had played yesterday. My body started to shake again as I stared at the little silver thing in my hand. Thank goodness I had been sitting on the edge; otherwise I might have fallen back. This…this flute didn't work. It didn't do what I wanted it to do. I was no calmer than before, perhaps even less so. With a touch of horror, I realized that it had been the flute player, not the song or instrument itself that had hypnotized me last night.
Suddenly the flute burned in my hand and I felt a spike of rage, a pale imitation of Steve's fits. I grunted as I heaved the flute out the window, scowling. I spun around and went to my bag under my bed, the one I had brought back from Steve's house. In it I found the bottle of rum I had taken from his mom's cabinet.
If the flute wouldn't take my mind off reality, then this would!
And so it did. Here I am now…three hours later and an empty water bottle that hadn't contained water in quite some time. I was half in the house and half out, partially sitting on the roof as I sang quietly to the radio that was playing on my nightstand. I could see everything with a slight blur when I moved…that is to say, when I looked at something, there was a slight lag. Oh yes, I thought, I wouldn't mind living like this. And with this rich stranger, perhaps I could!
I flinched a little, remembering what Steve called me. I hugged myself, refusing to admit how much that hurt me. Out of all he could have lashed out at, why did he pick me? I rubbed my arms, startled to realize finally that I was still in my dress. That stupid pink dress! Scowling, I stood on the roof, wobbly but smart enough to lean back against the window.
There were no sleeves on this thing other than the slit opening of lace on the shoulders, the window chilled against my arm. It reached just below my knees, mere fabric with a lace design over it. Had it not, the bruises I got from crawling last night would have been evident. And although I didn't like to admit it, it dipped just enough to show a hint of cleavage…and I liked it. The 'v' in the front was matched in the back, making for a very uncomfortable outfit on a chilly night like this.
I was about to go inside and change but…I paused, looking around. I grew up here…and I had to leave…when? I forgot to ask. I didn't want to. I suspected it would be shortly after graduation. Great, so a year left…less, actually. No doubt it would be peppered with visits from Mark.
I shivered and looked around sharply…as sharp as I could in my drunken state. I grabbed hold of the window behind me, refusing to fall. What was that though? There was a noise nearby…wasn't there? I frowned and wasn't sure if I felt someone watching me or not.
My mind went from thought A to Thought 4. I didn't know why, it made sense that it all didn't make sense, but it went to Crepsley. That sadistic vampire! How dare he give me a flute that didn't work! Er, wait…was that the rum talking?
"Bastard." I hissed as I looked up at the moon above. It was almost a full one, bright enough to illuminate me and a bit of the yard. Where was that instrument thing anyway? I couldn't see any sparkles or flashes of the silver flute…did I throw it further into the woods? I mean, I knew my arm was good but not that good!
What would he do, I wondered, if he knew I had tossed his "gift" to me? What would he do if I told everyone that he was a vampire? The thought struck me so suddenly that I wobbled. He would either kill me or take me away from here…as his assistant! It was like my veins had been flushed with ice cold water, the excitement and realization, the possibility of it all coming to front. Either way, I would win: I would be able to leave here on my own accord, not someone else's! And so what if it had been Steve's idea originally? He was "evil", I drunkenly reasoned, and thought I was a whore…why not prove him right (in a sense)?!
How to get the vampire's attention though…
I laughed as the radio played another song. It was so easy, so simple! I took a small step away from the window, my stance wavering though it held. My head tilted back to the moon and my bare arms went out to the side, a smile on my lips. And without fear, without hesitation, without really even thinking it through, I shouted, "Larten Crepsley is a vampire! Larten Crepsley is a vampire! Larten Crepsley is a vampi-oomph!"
I flew. Not off the roof…well, yes, off the roof but in a different direction than the ground. I found myself in my bed suddenly, my body having been snapped forward into a practical "L" so I wouldn't hit my head on the window. The entire room spun and wouldn't relent for a full moment. There was something heavy over my mouth and something far heavier over my body.
When I tried to move my arms, I realized two things: I couldn't and they were warm. When the room stopped spinning at last, I realized with a wave of dread that I was staring into the eyes of the vampire, Mr. Crepsley! He had tackled me through the window and onto my bed directly in front of said window. Within a mere second, he had covered my mouth, pinned my wrists above my head, and settled over me so that my legs wouldn't be able to lash out.
Almost like a joke, the radio kept playing soft tunes in the background.
For one sobering moment, as if fear had just slapped me back into reality, I realized there was a vampire on top of me…the same vampire I had just outed…and no one was none the wiser of the situation. My breathing picked up, the only noise as I had to breathe from my nose in the room other than the music. I could feel panic start to blossom and struggled pointlessly against him, feeling blood leave my face.
Like a statue, he didn't budge, not even when I tried to yank my hands free. It was only when I calmed down – "calm" wasn't the right word, not when I could start to feel my stomach act up – did he speak. "If I let remove my hand from your mouth, will you scream?"
I shook my head slightly, my angry stomach starting to move when I couldn't. When he removed his hand, I turned to the side where my trash can was (thank god) and lost all contents in my stomach. It took that split second for him to release my hands and get off the bed. I turned my entire body to the edge, half on and half off as I threw up in the trash can.
"That," I spoke in between spitting the remains with a grimace, "is what happens," I wiped my mouth with a tissue from my nightstand, "when you hit a drunk at 100 miles per hour." I wasn't sure if it was the vomiting or simply him letting me go, but I felt calmer…way calmer now.
Ignoring his noise of disgust, I slowly sat up and grabbed an old water bottle – yes, it had water in it – from the side of my bed and gargled before spitting into the trash can once more. When I felt like it, I stood up and brushed off my dress. "Well…that still worked." I looked over at him, unsteady on my feet. "Hi."
The vampire stood at the window, studying me closely. "You are drunk."
"Was." I corrected. "I think most of that just left my system."
"You shouted to the world what I am." It was a statement lacking in tone and emotion, simply just pointing out what I had done. I saw the correlation of his previous statement.
I nodded and immediately regretted it, tilting to my left. I stumbled slightly before I found myself leaning against the dresser. "Yes." I remained standing, leaning, but stared at him. "I knew you'd come. Or kill me first…either way, I would have got what I wanted." Did it take being intoxicated to deal with the vampire so cooly?
He stepped forward, a growl in his voice, "Even though I told you not to speak it?!" He caught it though; he caught what I had said. I saw it in his eyes, the realization of how I had spoken so evenly of my own death. Compared to last night, I was indeed an entire different person – thanks Captain Morgan, I thought bitterly. "What are you playing at, girl?"
I tensed when he stepped closer, old habits die hard. Still, I willed myself to keep my tone firm. "I have a proposition for you, Mr. Crepsley." I pushed myself up from the dresser, trying to stand tall and straight. "You see…I am to be wedded. I have a dress on. See, wedding foreshadow." I waved my hand up and down as if he hadn't spotted the dress before.
"And you saw this celebration cause for drinking, did you?"
"Do not lecture me!" I snapped, slurring my speech. "I don't want to marry. I don't. Not to this….this self-absorbed…I don't know what! I want an out. You happen to be that out." I looked and sounded suddenly quite serious. "You can either kill me…or take me as your assistant. Make your choice."
At this, Mr. Crepsley emitted a deep but quiet laugh, one that would stay within my room. I shuddered at the noise. When he looked at him again, the moon shining on him to make him all the more menacing looking, his eyes looked a bit crazed. Not crazed, but…certainly more vicious than before. Angry.
"This must be a joke," he spat, "a little girl trying to blackmail me? While she is drunk and has just damned herself, she thinks she has the upper hand?" He took a sudden step closer to me, proving a point.
Although I was ashamed afterwards, I helped him prove the point. When he got closer, I lost my pseudo-nerve and jumped back. Had my sense of balance been stable, I would have been able to pull it off; however, I tripped over nothing and fell on my ass. "Do not tell me what I have or do not have as an option, child." His voice was almost as dark as his laugh had been; he enjoyed my reaction so much that he took another step closer.
I kept our distance at least a yard apart, scrambling a little to scoot back. When my hand hit the bedpost, I stopped moving and registered just what I had been doing. I was acting on fear…I was scared of him. That needed to stop if I was to become his assistant. My eyes hardened and I stood, wobbly yes, but that was easily forgotten by the way I took three steps closer to him. Suddenly we were almost touching, my gaze locked on his. "I am not a child. If I were, I wouldn't be making this huge decision. I want you to either take me as your half-vampire assistant," that was what Steve had called it, didn't he?, "or kill me. Right now, right here. If you don't, I'll go out to the streets in the morning and sic the cops on your freak show…where your coffin is."
Even though I was trembling, I could see a new spark in his eyes, one of admiration and amusement. That was good, wasn't it?
