I feel as if I have returned to my former Nighttime Sierra status, Delilah has reconstructed everything about me at Davids' command. The texture of my hair has altered dramatically from a naturally straight hairstyle to a bush of ringlets that chute down to my ribcage, creating me into who I despise. I don't desire to be this person David is mutating me into, but I have no free will this time. I never did. Delilah was accurate about spellbinding men though, and the compulsion to drown my newborn fangs into their necks is extremely vigorous. I'm restricting myself from seducing them for blood with every humane trace left inside of me. The strength required to do this is high, I'm being seeped of all my energy by just avoiding the potent smell.
The waves from the sovereign blue sea pulverize the already saturated grains of beige sand on the shore, and thunderclap together in their homeland like cymbals playing in an orchestra. My leather varnished feet rupture the pastoral sheet of golden sand with each footstep I take. I wonder if David is patrolling around the perimeter of the beach to ensure I don't flee from him. I can't believe I have become so insecure of my refuge during this past week all because of the phobia of David reappearing lingered within me. Then again, did it ever abandon me? When the battle ceased a month ago, I never thought it was the beginning of something even more destructive. Though David outlasted the battle, I was too appreciative of everyone else's survival to give it a single thought. The realisation of truth was buried deep inside of me, it just never seemed to emerge.
A delicate wind which is uncommon in this month wreathes around the whole of Santa Carla, especially the beach where the wind is magnetized. I find it quite soothing, like the wind is cleansing me of everything that is vexing me. Reminiscing over the memories of Michael and I here on this beach brings a smile on my painted lips since I know that once I was human and I can keep my human side intact. I must confront my vampire side and block its transgression. Until my limits erupt and I have to feed in order to survive, I will shun any person who attempts to make contact with me.
Delilah, who is fiddling with my newly spiralled hair, diverts my attention from the daydreaming world.
"I knew the perm would suit you, it did last time" Delilah mumbles whilst munching on a double cheeseburger.
It perplexes me how Delilah is devouring on so many fattening delicacies but remains appearing like she is in great need of salvation. After Delilah had sculptured my hair, we visited a fast food cafe where Delilah gorged down two Sloppy Joes and a peanut butter bar in the 60's inspired booth.
"Do I have anything round my mouth?" she then asks me, her index finger circling her mouth in a gesture.
"A little of that peanut butter bar but that's about it, maybe some cheeseburger as well" I inform her, wiping away the food stains from her mouth. Delilah rolls her glowing chestnut eyes and places her hands on her skeletal hips.
"Shit, Sierra, you could've told me!" Delilah snaps in annoyance, acting as if I'm to blame for this childish situation. "Jesus Christ, I've been looking like an idiot for hell knows how long..." she soon trails on about how her appearance is the equivalent to a clown and how I should be obliged to tell her if she has food over her mouth.
Another thing of Delilah that has gravely recreated itself is her attitude; she has always been a melodramatic diva but it seems to have increased over the years we have been separated. David has truly doctored her into a person who contrasts from her previous self. She isn't my sister anymore, she's just someone who claims to be. I can't feel the same pleasant feelings I felt before when I look into her eyes, and I don't feel like I'm guarded like I did before she was snatched.
Was Delilah even kidnapped from me or did she abandon my family on her own free will? She was constantly expressing how she destested my mom and dad, so it begins to make me muse over whether Delilah was intentionally escaping from us. Delilah finishes her rant and pastes an exaggerated smile on her lips.
"Anyway, I thought you wanted to go to the beach?" she questions with a grudging tone in her voice that suggests she is regretting allowing me to make the decision of where we go.
"We don't have to if you don't want to!" I retort, imitating her sarcastic smile whilst she scowls at me with displeasure.
"Ooh, you're feeling feisty tonight! Aren't you, Sierra?" Though it may not have been calculated, Delilah mimicked the man who brought me to this unnatural state of life – David. With Delilah's attitude adjustment and all the components that arrive with it, I can't help myself but to think if I'm going to be an exact clone of her when I fully change. I can't deny that the undesired event won't take place soon, I'm not going to be able to distract myself from feeding for an eternity. I will have to step into that immortal world sooner or later.
"Whatever. Where the hell else could we go anyway?" I highly doubt Michael and everyone else will be hunting for me on the beach. Though I love the serenity of the waves colliding together, they will most likely be at the Boardwalk searching for me since that's the place closest to David's amusement.
I don't want Michael, Star and my family seeing me like this anyway, I want them to have the memories of how I looked before I disappeared. It feels so outlandish thinking that I'm just another black and white face on the graffiti walls of Santa Carla that broadcasts I'm one of the many people to have vanished into thin air, never to return back to civilisation. Unlike those other innocent people, I'm still alive and roaming on this earth.
Why did David aspire so badly to make me one of his followers? Why am I breathing now whilst all of his other victims have been slaughtered? It doesn't make sense to me at all why I'm still here. Like David sneered, I should be grateful. But how can I be grateful when all I'm seeing is the ones I love suffering from his intimidation? I'll never know why I was the 'lucky' one, and in all honesty I don't want to discover the reason why either for it may not be a pleasing answer.
"This is Santa Carla for God's sakes! There's plenty of stuff to do!" Delilah exclaims, twirling around to promote the many attractions Santa Carla has to present.
"I'm trying to avoid certain people though, Delilah" I sigh in vexation, Delilah really doesn't comprehend other people's views or beliefs, then again I suppose that's been the case since she transformed into a vampire. I can't have Michael being acquainted with the redesigned Sierra Frog, I want the former Sierra Frog to be summoned in his mind.
"And by certain people you mean Michael? So a certain person would be the right thing to say, wouldn't it be, Sierra?" How does Delilah even know about Michael? I have been cautious not to mention Michael to her under any condition. "Dwayne told me, and David said something about him" she educates me as if she translated my thoughts. I just gawk at her, not believing she has knowledge of Michael.
We soon halt our footsteps when we come to our destination at a palm tree that drapes over the cosy spot near the glistening sea that reflects the opalescent moon dangling, where Delilah and I soon situate ourselves. Above the silent noise of my thoughts and irritating sound of Delilah chewing on the last remainders of her greasy snack, I can hear the alleviating waves of the ocean crashing together. I could fall into a abyssal slumber because I'm so weakened of energy. These past few days have been like an incessant timeline of regret and despair for everyone, not just myself.
"Did you love him?" Delilah inquires, motioning nearer to me as if it's an efficient technique for interrogation, with her facial features appearing like they know my confession already.
"Yeah, I did" I mustn't remark how I still have those indestructible emotions for Michael since I'm not fully confident that Delilah is a trustworthy person yet. For all I know, my own sister could be feeding back every word I utter to David and Dwayne.
"Did you two lovebirds do the deed?" I stay silent and keep my eyes chained on the beige sand below me. What has intrigued her so much about the moments in my life that she's been absent for? "I take your silence as a yes!" she then giggles like a child that hasn't matured to their full extent. Suddenly, her adolescent tittering stops and a void of speechlessness hushes the both of us. Delilah outstretches her arm to gingerly angle my head so I'm facing her. "You've grown up, little sis"
"I had to, didn't I?" if I hadn't had cultivated myself with the responsibilities of a mother when Delilah dispersed three years ago, then I wouldn't even like to brainstorm where Edgar and Alan would be. Delilah was always the mother figure in our family, when she deserted us someone had to consume that hollow role. I knew that person had to be me.
It's now I decide I have inquests of my own that need to be heard. Delilah has interrogated me on what I've been doing for three years – now it's my turn.
"When'd the initiation end for you then?" I have to know when Delilah transformed into a creature of the night; it will provide me with information about when I might be turned.
"Last month" she replies, flicking my countless ringlets. My heart instantly jolts without a delay. Why wasn't she turned sooner? Did David have plans for her as well? "David didn't want me changing until he said something happened. I guess he wanted me to be with you, he's a sweetie like that!" I wouldn't exactly title David as a 'sweetie'. To me he's more like venomous snake whose only way of receiving pleasure is by suppressing others lives into becoming a misery.
I just can't fathom on why David would prolong the interval of Delilah drinking his blood to the actual event of her shifting into a monster. Why would he wait that long? Then again, I could question on why he took a lengthy amount of time in delivering me into their gang.
"Last month?" I repeat, my voice reflecting my bewilderment. Delilah exhales in aggravation and rolls her eyes at me.
"Yes, Sierra! Last month!" Delilah states, though she may have to echo what she has declared already, the concept of this fact refuses to burrow itself into the depths of my brain. "Anyway," she begins in a more bland tone of voice "could you do me a favour? Go in the store at the Boardwalk and get me some candy bars. Preferably those little fruity chocolate things. If they don't have that then get me some gum – root beer flavour" she brazenly demands, passing me green notes of money and a cigarette.
I raise my groomed eyebrow at her, not perceiving the cigarettes' recommendation.
"And what do you want me to do with this?" I ask with another rolling of those chestnut eyes being Delilah's answer.
"I want you to stick it up your ass" she maliciously jests with nothing but sarcasm etching her words. "What the hell are you gonna do with it? You smoke it! You're one of us now, you gotta look cool and mean" I wouldn't define smoking a cigarette as cool, however I'm not in the right position at this precise moment in time to defy her commands. "Here"
Delilah stuffs the cigarette in my mouth and releases a flame of ignited orange gas to roast the end of the unappetizing nicotine stick where its fumes begin to revolt my tastebuds. The cheap taste of tar prowls around my mouth, causing me to splutter choking hacks.
"Shit! It's disgusting!" I cough a little, taking another drag to familiar myself with its nauseating taste. "Aren't you gonna give me some sunglasses? I'm sure David wouldn't want me to run into someone that recognizes me" I uncurl my fingers to hold out my hand in order to inherit the sunglasses resting on Delilah's nest of hair. I don't even desire to envision the calamity that will befall if I happen to run into the others who by now must have noted my sudden vanishing from society. All she does is stare at my palm in disbelief, rejecting my appeal for the veiling of my identity.
"Like me, Sierra, David doesn't give a shit. Now, go. I'm getting hungry" she hauls me in for an embrace, kissing my forehead that's smeared in foundation. "See you later! Be quick" after she has adjured me for a final time, she liberates me to flee. She knows I can't escape without being hunted down again.
I revolve around, my voluminous spirals whipping the air as I do so, and commence my independent journey to the Boardwalk. Nothing can tame my stress and concern that sprints throughout my body. The palms of my hands that are masked with rough white lace feel as if they are glazed with sweat and I'm uncertain if it's the rash arctic temperature in the wind or the tension climaxing that's generating my bones to shudder. What if somebody recollects my appearance? What if that somebody is Michael? Or Star? Jimmy, River and Jude are bound to be hovering around the Boardwalk; I just hope that they're governed to the stage tonight. At all costs, I must steer clear of anyone who is a threat in recognizing me. Though some of those people consist of my friends and family, they mustn't view what I am now.
I exhale a cloud of silver whilst barging the door to open, only to be welcomed back by the chiming music of the carousel mingling with a song blaring from the music hall. A remedy of comfort composes my existing panic as the song belongs to Jimmy's band, at least I won't have to torment myself over them seeing me if they're occupied on the stage. It's burdensome to think that this hangout was once something that characterized my optimism, when now all it symbolizes is what my precedent self was like.
At last, I arrive to my aim where I will secure what is mandatory and depart immediately after paying. The store is absorbed by trashy magazines and sugary processed treats with a popular song at a placid volume playing in the background.
Sudden extreme terror strikes my heart as at the desk reading a book, is Mrs Emerson – Lucy. Thankfully, she is too immersed in the what must be fascinating book to realize that I'm tearing the pricetag off a pair of pitch black circular sunglasses. I place the sunglasses that are rather similar to my own, on the bridge of my nose to shield my identity from Lucy; I just pray she won't see past the disguise. I grab a few packets of gum, two of them being rootbeer seasoned and the other minty fresh before I seize a few bars of that preferred candy for Delilah.
What confounds me is that Delilah came in here earlier on, and she must have noticed Lucy was serving at the desk. Firstly, she didn't seem to take the fact I may be acknowledged into her personal interest. Now, this has happened. My instinct is screaming at me that something abnormal is occurring. What am I to about it if there is though? I'm bottomless in the hierarchy system at the moment, how can I possibly make a change?
I stroll over to the dust-infected desk where I attempt in simmering my anxiety down. Lucy greets me with a sincere teeth-flashing smile; she always has been so courteous to others. Her smile fades into becoming something of distress, my heart races at the speed of light. Does Lucy know who I am? Is this what Delilah was hoping to achieve?
"Are you ok, sweetie? You look nervous?" my heart soothes itself rapidly. I shake my head, though it may seem impolite, I can't speak without the dread of Lucy analysing my voice. "Ok, well is this all you're buying?" I nod again and inhale another intake of nicotine. I despise the very taste of it, but I feel as if I'm confined to Delilah's dictation over me.
My sight lands on a sheet of haggard paper with a bedraggled image of a beaming teenage girl. My eyes widen in stupefaction as I grasp that the jubilant girl on the advertisement is me. The photo is a recent one; I remember Michael captured the fateful photograph when we were visiting Jimmy and the other guys backstage one night. I am wearing my previous attire of a black jumpsuit with Michael's leather jacket swamped over me so I could keep myself insulated. The capitals in a jet black bold print read:
POLICE DEPARTMENT OF SANTA CARLA
MISSING GIRL
SIERRA MAY FROG
MISSING SINCE SEPTEMBER 1ST 1987. LAST SEEN AT 10 P.M AT SANTA CARLA BEACH BOARDWALK.
DESCRIPTION:
DATE OF BIRTH: SEPTEMBER 3RD 1969.
FEMALE, WHITE, 18 YRS.
HEIGHT: 167CM, WEIGHT: 119 LBS
WEARING: CROPPED BLACK SWEATERVEST, FLOWER PRINTED STIRRUP PANTS, WHITE 'GRANNY' BOOTS, ACID-WASHED DENIM RAG AROUND HAIR
DARK BROWN HAIR, BLUE EYES
PERSONS HAVING ANY INFORMATION ARE REQUESTED TO CALL POLICE IMMEDIATELY
I slightly peel the corner of the fragile poster to view many duplicates that report the exact same pieces of information with the black and white picture to prove Sierra Frog once prevailed. I scan the date of birth fact again, I'm eighteen years old. Throughout all the chaotic affairs that I have been enduring, I failed to commemorate my birthday. It has finally hit me that I'm a missing person, and that my previous life is dying at such a fast pace that I can't even recall facts of it.
"It's such a shame what happened" I gasp and jerk in shock at the deplored voice, almost dropping the significant piece of paper that holds so much urgency. I peer up from the poster to see Lucy neatening the stack of other posters with her face manifesting woefulness. "I know Sierra; she's my oldest sons' girlfriend. Such a lovely girl, always polite and kind. I've never seen my Michael so happy before in his life, she's the first girl he really loved"
By the way Lucy is speaking in present tense, I'm assuming Michael still has these feelings intact. It makes my heart drown when I think of how I have twin feelings.
"How's your son doing now?" I ask in a higher pitch to masquerade even more components of my personality. I'm loathing every second of it. I regard various medicines behind Lucy, catching sight of the bandages. Unfortunately, the bleeding from the premeditated wound David fabricated hasn't intermitted yet as under my black cape that facades most of my right side, is the blood-soaked denim rag acting as a bandage. "Can I have some bandages as well, please?" Lucy spins around and obtains the ivory bandages from the crammed shelf.
"He's heartbroken in all honesty; I'm so worried about him. He's not sleeping properly, not eating enough and every day he's either out looking for Sierra or looking out the window. He bought her a real diamond ring for her birthday yesterday, carries it with him everywhere in case she comes back. This is Santa Carla though, I don't have the heart to tell him the chances of Sierra turning up"
If only Lucy could see beyond the sunglasses, she would know what happened to me just by one glance.
"I feel bad for her family though. Their other daughter, Delilah, went missing three years ago. They don't think Sierra is dead, or Delilah. Some of the people you get in this town though, I'm not sure. Two girls from the same family missing, it's just so tragic. Makes you think about what sick people there are in this world, huh?"
I never would have thought I would miss my family so deeply; some of the things I yearn for right now include a single embrace from my father and for my brothers to insult me in some way. I found myself weeping out of laughter at the thought of Edgar defiling me in a garlic aroma or Alan constantly reminding me how I'm a 'fangbanger'. I miss it; I never thought that in a million years I would miss the offensive terms or my fathers' crude humour. I would do anything to have my old life back. Only a month ago, I pursued to have this life in my clutches. All I want now is to be free of it. The ancient saying is correct – you don't know what you've got until you lose it, and I've lost all of it.
"Sorry about that" Lucy apologizes with honest goodwill, passing the pale blue plastic bag over to me. I feel awful that I have to deceive her, after all she's done for me she doesn't deserve any of my lies. Lucy was like the mother I had been seeking for years beforehand; being deceptive to her is like being deceptive to an endearing mother who does nothing but cherish her children.
"It's fine, I hope you find her" I arch the corners of my scarlet painted mouth into a smile. Lucy examines this smile for a split second whilst I awkwardly search around the store. "See you later, take care" I rotate around, not accepting what I've just had to do. How could I do something like that? What am I becoming? As much as I want to hide who I am from everyone, I can't help but to be ashamed of myself for being dishonest to Lucy. That stare of reluctance exhibited to me that Lucy was questioning whether it was me or not. After all, every time I visited her, the first thing that came naturally to me was to smile.
"You take care too... um, sorry what's your name?" Lucy is beginning to become skeptical on who I am, I can't allow my identity to become known to her. I pretend not to hear her with a few clear tears slipping out of my crystal eyes as the door slams shut, disclosing mine and Lucy's conversation.
I blow more smoke out into the misty atmosphere that surrounds me, somehow I've attached myself to the cigarette hanging out of my mouth because of the main excuse that I'm being padlocked to commands. I remove the sunglasses and catapult them somewhere out of my catastrophic reach, not wishing to use them as a veil any longer.
Finally, I'm pardoned of the harrowing strains of the Boardwalk as I access the contentment that is the portentous streets of Santa Carla. I inhale another intake of the foul cigarette before exhaling again, why am I so enslaved to Delilah's oppressing instructions? I hear a child painfully clearing their lungs of the second hand grey smoke that has obviously smothered him.
"Laddie, go inside to Star. I don't want you getting cold"
I remember when I first beheld Lucy I felt nothing but trepidation. Hearing that one voice that has intense meaning to me causes that apprehension to multiple to infinity.
That voice is the voice I've been thirsting to hear, but now I wish that it never escaped from their lips.
Hey guys! Happy New Year :D Hope your years are getting off to a good start! I also hope that you can read, review and enjoy! Thanks for reading :D