Part Thirteen:
I guess my change in stopping my doing drugs seemed harder to do than I thought. Though Cocaine wasn't actually my thing, I wasn't afraid to try it. Candace, her man, and I sat around a table, taking turns. It's odd, the feeling you get while doing this. Like, you know it's wrong, so this adrenaline rush seems to be electrifying your blood. Then, the room seems to be frozen in time, and even a little glossy.
Then, once the drugs start up, time started to fly by. I couldn't remember most of the things that happened, seeing as it felt as if I wasn't even there. I couldn't remember what had happened before I allowed myself to do this. I could only remember the constant chatter of voices in my head. None of them made sense, and they all seemed jumbled together, but the words were there.
I think they call it your conscience. I can't remember.
It seemed that a heavy daze came upon me, and then there was light being shined on my face. This normally wouldn't bug me, but now I could feel the irritation of a fast-coming sunburn. Besides that, I was practically being blinded, and this caused me to open my eyes.
It took me a moment to remember where I was. Once I did, I sat up sharply to see whether everybody was still in tact. Candace was laying on her stomach on the bed, her face to the wall so that I couldn't see it. Her left arm was twisted beside her, her elbow pressed against the mattress. Candace's man was laying on the ground, on his back. His head was halfway under the bed, and his pants were off only on one leg. His right hand was covering his neck, but I could see he was holding what looked like a red cloth.
I was laying on top of the table on which the cocaine was suppose to be. My shoes were long gone, along with one sock... and a couple of bracelets had been broken. I looked at the television to see that the screen had been cracked. Well, that's just perfect. I felt drained, actually, but all the better.
I stood up, stretching my arms high above my head. I yawned, and then clamped my jaws shut, causing me to yelp. I had just bit my lip horribly. I clamped my hand to my mouth, tasting the blood, and then I felt them. The teeth... the fangs... it can't... it's got to be my imagination. But they were there, sharp enough to prick my finger easily.
I closed my eyes, and willed the fangs away. Willed and willed and willed. After a moment, I felt again to find that they had indeed gone back to normal. Close one. Just as I thought I was all right, I could smell a most wonderful smell. It took me a second to locate it, and my gaze fell on Candace's boyfriend, lying on the ground asleep. I felt a turning of my stomach as I realized the familiarity of the smell to be the same with the smell of James' blood.
At first, I was going to run. I mean, I didn't want to hurt anybody. Then I realized that I could smell blood. I could smell it, so it must be outside the body. I bent down, starting to feel my heart beat quicker. I grabbed Candace's boyfriend's right hand, and pried it off of his neck. My breath stopped. The red cloth... it wasn't a red cloth... it was blood. Blood that came from two puncture wounds on his neck.
I pulled my hand away sharply, leaving some blood smear on my own hands. I didn't need to check to know that this man was dead. In my panic, I bent over to Candace, and shook her furiously.
"Candace," I hissed in panic, "He's dead! Wake up! Someone's--" I. "--killed your boyfriend. Wake uh-" I froze. From the mouth of Candace, a white foam looking substance had started to form. Candace had her eyes closed painfully, and she looked as if she was choking. I screamed. "C-CANDACE!"
I ran out from the basement, running to the nearest phone to call the police.
I had been sitting in the waiting room, far in the corner and out of sight, for hours on in. My panic had subsided, seeing as after the announcing of Angel's (Candace's boyfriend) death, I hadn't been blamed for it. I had told the police that I was unconscious the whole time, and they saw that my teeth hadn't been denatured to bite Angel.
Though, they were checking on saliva DNA... and this scared me for a moment. It came back to say that there wasn't any DNA in the saliva. That caused me to wonder if vampires had DNA. No blood type... why not no DNA?
So now I sat, waiting to see if Candace was going to die. The doctor had said that she had Over-dosed on Heroin injection, but not too long so that they could clean out her blood in time to save her. She'd be in the hospital for weeks, though, if she does survive. I just wanted to know that she was going to live. Even though they told me to go home, I stayed. There's no way I'm going home. Nobody even called my parents because I refused to tell my number or anything.
Woah, my parents. What an odd expression. I don't think I have ever really had 'my parents' in plural. But, hey, after that "daddy" fiasco, I prefer to consider him a bitch and move on. Besides that, I've learned that two results come out of drug use. O.D.'s... and accidently killing someone. Or purposely. I can't remember, but I had killed someone. Bitten him, bled him, and killed him. Then I helped my close friend kill herself... or almost kill herself.
Suddenly, the doctor walked into the waiting room, heading straight for me. I stood up sharply. "Is she dead," I asked. Yes, usually people ask if they're alive, but I go by my own tootsie rolls.
"She's going to live," the doctor stated gravely... it isn't as if it's bad news, you know. "We've manage to stable her enough, but she's now in a coma. Temporary or Permanent? We're not sure. Now you can go on home because she won't be up anytime soon." I hesitated.
"Can I see her," I asked and he shook his head, replying with, "Family only, I'm afraid." I realized that her parents would be here any minute. There's no way I'm getting in that mess.
"All right, tell me when she wakes up," I told the doctor.
"So you're going to give us a number," he asked with a smirk. I scoffed, and took off down the hall. I took the glass elevators down to the ground, loving the height of the floor. I spent some time in the gift shop, looking at all the get well presents for a bit. Then I started out the hospital door.
The sun was already setting, which meant I had been at the hospital all day. That's what friends are for. I stood on the sidewalk in front of the hospital for a moment. Suddenly, I heard a loud "Psst" from my left. I whirled my head around to glance at a blonde boy just before he disappeared beside the hospital. If I'm not mistaken, that would be Ryen.
I hesitated, and then pranced towards the direction I had saw him. When I made it around the hospital, I saw Ryen leaning against the wall patiently. I frowned. "How'd you know I was here," I asked suspiciously.
He smirked, "I stalk you." No doubt, most likely. "No, I heard about what happen with your friend. L.C. was it?" I moved my gaze to my feet.
"It is Candace... formally known as L.C... yes," I stated, emphasize on the 'is'.
"So, she's still alive, then?"
"Alive, but in a coma. They got ahold of her before the heroin killed her. Pretty lucky, actually." I didn't feel as if it was lucky. Lucky would be Candace not getting hurt at all, actually.
"What about the boy," Ryen asked curiously.
"Dead."
"Dead?"
"Dead."
Ryen paused, "Was he you're friend, then?" I shook my head. I didn't even know his name was Angel until they confirmed his death. Ryen seemed to be thinking deeply about something, his blue eyes troubled extremely. I waited, of course.
"Are you going home, then," He asked suddenly.
"Uh... no," I stated shortly, "Actually, I was thinking of probably leaving the country. Something of that sort. Home just doesn't seem so welcoming anymore." More like because there's an insane maniac who thinks he's a vampire... who is a vampire at the house... who happened to have been attacked by me... and probably won't be too happy to see me again.
"Why not," Ryen inquired, his smile shining as the darkness started to grow. So slowly that it seemed as if it was just dimming, not darkening.
"That's none of your little business, actually," I finally snapped. So nosy this boy is. How do I know he isn't a stalker? How do I know he isn't a murderer or something? Trust him? Yeah, right.
Ryen raised his hands in surrender, "Sorry, I'll just assume it was a major argument with your mom. Geez." He acts as if I got a gun pointed at him. Bang, your dead.
"I'm going to another friend's house," I finally said after a moment, "Most likely G... Jason's. At least to tell him how Candace is doing." I was lying. I was going to go to Hope's house. Jason was just an alternate that I used just in case this one WAS a stalker. He can go to Jason's house and disturb him. I don't care. Jason will probably think Ryen's hot anyways. Maybe that'd scare Ryen away.
"Then I'll see you later," Ryen suggested.
"Whatever." I started down the alley, heading towards Hope's place. The darkness was full, but I could see just fine. Better than last night, actually, but it was still slightly dark. At least I wasn't hungry. This thought brought a pang inside me. Maybe I wasn't hungry because I had drained Angel. Great job, Sprice. Just go around killing people, why don't you?
I arrived at the back door of Hope's trailer, and started to knock. Before I could, the door opened so swiftly that I almost fell back to the ground. Hope poked her head out desperately. "There's a man looking for you," Hope stated sharply; quickly, "I don't know if he's a stalker or a police, but he's in here right now asking for you. Apparently, your mom sent him after you."
"What's he look like," I hissed, glancing behind her, but there was nothing but a wall. The backdoor was located in the laundry room, actually.
"Black hair, black eyes... eyes like yours actually," Hope said curiously, "Quite tall, muscular, and a face like a perfectly made angel. He got my mom blabbing everything, the witch. Luckily she doesn't know anything, and James has got the other siblings scared to tell him anything." Definitely sounded like my "father", and how sweet of James.
"What's he doing?"
"Oh, he just told them that the man was actually Barney in disguise. You know how long ago James convinced them all that Barney was an evil dinosaur who went into houses to kill little children," Hope said with a giggle.
"Not James," I snapped, "What's the moron doing who is looking for me?"
"Just asking about you. Like, your favorite color, the last time we saw you, and all kinds of stupid stuff," Hope started, "I figured you'd be coming here if you ran away, and I figured if you ran away, you're in trouble." She glanced behind her quickly, searching sharply.
"Then I'm going," I stated quickly, "I just went to Candace's house, and she's in the hospital. Her boyfriend was killed." (By me, no doubt.) At the shock look on Hope's face, I said, "I'll tell you later." Hope nodded, and shut the door. I turned to leave, and nearly ran into a solid body.
"Why, hello," Daviel said with a huge, triumphant smile. I stepped back quickly, my heel landing on a wooden object. I didn't reach for it because Daviel was watching my every move. "Where did you go last night?" I clamped my mouth shut defiantly.
He started to step towards me, and I stomped my foot on the wooden object. This caused it to lift up just far enough so that I snatched it; a shovel. Oh, how perfect. "Come for another ass kicking, have you," I sneered, tightening my grip threatening on the shovel handle.
"Ivy's worried about you, you know," Daviel stated darkly.
"Yeah, right," I snapped, "So worried is she that she sent some irresponsible, invisible vampire man after me. Why don't you go get another girl pregnant, and ditch them? Of course, you've probably done it before, anyways. Must be a thing people who live forever do just to have fun. You know, ditch your own infants. I can see the joy in that."
Daviel looked extremely pissed; most likely the reflection of my own rage. He started towards me, and I raised the shovel. "Oh, I will pop you over the head like a weasel," I threatened darkly. Pop goes the weasel. Do do do dee.
"All you do is complain," Daviel snarled, "I get here for two seconds, and you're already nagging. You don't know anything, Sprice. NOTHING! So why don't you stop being a stupid kid and grow up."
I was seething in flaming fury. "Bitch," I snapped, for that was the only thing I could get out.
"I'm going to snap your stupid, little, itsy, bitty head off," Daviel growled.
"I'm going to break your fucking neck," I snarled, "Then I'm going to stab you in the gut, rip off your nails, stab those into your eyes, pull out your hair, and make you choke on all of them. But you won't... no, you won't. Your heads going to be twisted so far around that you won't even be able to swallow, so I'll rip a hole in your throat just so I can stuff your own intestines down them. And then I'll rip out all your bones and make myself a damn doll house to name 'Daviel's Hell' because THAT'S where I'm sending you, you retard!"
I dare say that I've just run out of air. I was just glad I hadn't stuttered at all. I had been twisting my hands around the handle of the shovel as if it were Daviel's neck. Suddenly, he started laughing. I had started to mutter continually under my breath, "Then I'll pull out your tongue and tie it in a bow for the door of the doll house and..." When I realized that Daviel was laughing.
"Shut up and go away," I snapped, "Or I'll bury you so far into the ground that the core of the earth with disintegrate you." And I threw my shovel at him before stomping down the road, leaving the moron to his internal joy. He had laughed harder at my last threat, and I did NOT see what was so funny. Stupid idiot. Mom never told me she fell in love with a slug. I smirked.