I'm Hungry
Chapter Four: Bloody Confessions
They don't find Jessica's body. Nor do they find Lauren's and Rebecca's. My dad gives me suspicious glances when he thinks I'm not aware. He knows those girls gave me trouble in school, but surely he knows me well enough that my hatred tends to turn inward and not outward? I wouldn't have it in me to hurt them like that.
But, I suppose I can't fault him. This is the biggest fucking thing that has happened in Forks since twenty years ago. And it falls on my dad's shoulders to figure this out.
While everyone is scrambling and panicking and wondering if they're next, I only feel relief. Relief and curiosity.
Victoria.
She remains calm in the sea of the storm, and something tells me she knows what happened.
How do I ask her about it?
Call it a gut feeling but I just know she did something. After all, ever since she'd bumped into them in the bathroom harassing me, they've been picked off. By someone or something. The timing is too much. She has to know something about this.
"Can I talk to you?" I ask her one day as she's pulling her books out of the locker. She arches a brow at me but allows me to lead her to a nearby staircase. I don't realize I've grabbed her hand until we get there and I have to release it reluctantly.
It's cool and slim. And it fits just right.
"What is it?" she asks, her eyes a brighter red than normal.
Suddenly I feel stupid, and nervous to ask this. But I have to know. "What happened to Jessica?"
Her facial expression doesn't waver, as if she's been expecting this from me and has long erected up a mask to protect herself. "I don't know what you're talking about, Bella."
"I saw her slap you."
"And?"
"She broke her hand on your face."
Victoria closes her eyes, as if ashamed she'd let it happen because it had unveiled something that should not have been unveiled. When she opens them, her eyes are darker. "And that incriminates me in her disappearance?" she asks sardonically.
"No," I answer. "But it does make me question you. A human can't do that."
I see a spark of fear in her eyes. She takes a step back. "Mind your business, Bella," and she walks away. Little does she know I've done my research. And that I'm going to see if it's true, one way or another.
At lunch the next day I don't stop by her table to talk. Instead I walk past and drop a slip of paper onto it. On it, I've written, meet me in the bathroom in ten. Whether or not she does it, I am not sure on. But I want her to do it. What I've discovered on the internet has kept me up all night, more than my bullies fates. And it's time I put it to the test because I know I'm not insane.
Or maybe I am. And this is just me spiraling down.
I go to the bathroom, and thumb the razor in my hands. I know where to hit to make it bleed a lot but not be deadly. I wait. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. Will she come? Lunch will almost be over. I feel stupid now. A stupid teen waiting in the second floor bathroom.
I stare at myself in the mirror. Pale, thin. Have the bags under my eyes always been this bad? Maybe I should eat more.
Then, the door creaks open and I peer away from my reflection in the mirror. It's her.
She arrives in the bathroom, looking reluctant to be here. She has the right instinct. My sleeve is rolled up, the blade hidden in my other hand. She stares at me quizzically. I stare at her back, no emotion on my face. And then I slash my flesh, quick as a whip.
I don't feel any pain. Not at first. But then she's crashing into me and I grunt out as my body connects hard with the tiled floor. I try to suck air into my lungs, but I find myself breathless. Victoria has my injured arm in her grasp, pinning it above my head as it pools red onto the floor.
Red, red like Victoria's hair. Like her eyes. Eyes trained on me as she straddles me. Except her eyes aren't red anymore. They're black. "Are you stupid," she hisses at me in a guttural voice. It's so savage. It makes me feel afraid, alive. "Why would you do this? Why would you cut yourself?"
Her hand holding my arm away is shaking. With effort? With anger? I can't tell. But the wild and panicked look on her face is doing things to me.
"Vampire," I mouth and I know she knows what I said.
She swallows harshly, panting with holding something back. Her eyes flick to my wrist, then to my face. She trembles as she speaks. "I knew I should have fucking killed you first." And then she kissed me. Hard.
I didn't know how to react at first. This was definitely not how I had expected this to go. But I quickly forget her violent confession at the sweet taste on her lips. Like wine. And chocolate.
Oh. I didn't know anyone could taste like this. Her lips are desperate on mine and she moans into my mouth, her body undulating slowly. She presses into me, presses me into the cold hard floor. Fuck. I could get lost in her lips. And I do.
Forgetting the bleeding. The ongoing police case. Her being a possible vampire. And her admitting to murdering my bullies possibly but wishing she'd murdered me first. I can feel my air fading and she pulls away from me when she realizes I need to breathe.
She stares down at me, at the way I pant under her. At my kiss swollen lips.
"Fuck," she declares and gets up before she angrily punches a mirror. Glass scatters like meteor showers and I scramble to my feet, fingers pressing down to stop the bleeding. She doesn't seem to be aware of me for a moment before she lets out a sob of despair and leans against the wall. Her hand is fine. Not damaged at all.
I stand there, not knowing what to do.
"Are you still going to kill me?" I ask softly. I don't know what to expect her answer to be. She sinks down to the floor, looking so devastated.
"I should," she mumbles out, black eyes looking at me, unblinking.
"But you can't?" is that hopefulness in my voice? I myself don't know what to expect from this conversation anymore.
I step closer but she barks out, "don't get any closer to me. I'm holding myself back right now, but..." her eyes drop to my crimson doused flesh. The bleeding has nearly stopped by now.
"I'm going to wash up," I say and walk to the sink at the end of the bathroom, letting the water run. I wash with soap and water, taking as long as I can, before I put some paper towels on it. She watches me the whole time. When I am done I turn to her. I know my blood is on the floor, but I can't clean that up.
She sits among the broken glass like a queen that's lost her throne, sitting among the ruins of her empire. How does she look so regal in all this, when in reality she's in a high school bathroom floor, escapes me. It only makes sense she's not human.
"I...I won't kill you. For now," she told me, voice dry. She's stopped minutely trembling. I relax. The worst of the danger has seemed to pass. "I should have. In fact, you were going to be my first victim."
"And why wasn't I?" I'm bold. Always bold in the face of terrible things that hurt me. Sometimes it's better to shut up and stay quiet. Roll over, show belly. But no, not me. Maybe it's why Jessica enjoyed picking on me the way she did. Because I challenged her.
Victoria licks her lips, as if tasting traces of our kiss on them. "Do you really want to know why?" she asks sardonically. I shake my head yes without hesitation. This involves me. This is important. I cannot let this slide without digging deeper into it.
She sighs, as if tired out by my request. "I myself don't know. I just know that you are mine."
I don't expect such possessive words. I don't know how to process them. What do they mean? "And when I saw those bitches," said with a nearly inhuman snarl, "hurting you, or trying to do so, I had to step in."
"So you killed them."
"So I killed them," she echoed.
Silence. But for my even breaths. I discreetly feel for my razor. It's safely in my pocket.
"How do you know they bullied me?"
She chuckles. It's mirthless. Dark. Pitying, but for who I do not know. "I've seen them coming after you before. They tried to be low about it, but I notice the tiny details. They couldn't hide it from me forever. Or from you."
"Did they suffer?"
"Jessica did," she turned remorseless eyes to me. "She had to. She hurt you. And you're mine."
My heart thumped wildly at her words. I didn't know how to feel now.
"Nobody gets to hurt what's mine," she said, rising up.
"Except for you?" I questioned. She approached me, lithe soundless steps even as she walked on glass that should have crackled under her weight.
She breathes out, looking down at me. "I want to do more than hurt you," she confessed, her hand raising up to tangle in my hair. I flinch at her touch at first, but relax when I notice it's meant to be soothing. I don't know what she means by her words.
"Why did you kiss me?" I whisper as she stands in front of me. What is she planning to do? I cannot read anything in her eyes. She is a mystery to me as much as she had been in the beginning. Except this time her glass edges are finally beginning to cut into me.
"You ask so many questions, Bella," she said softly.
"You have many secrets, Victoria." I retort.
"What are you going to do about me now?" She questions and I sense a hint of fear in her voice. I am the chef of police's daughter after all.
I deliberate this as her hand continues to glide through my hair. "Nothing," I answer at last, and this is the truth.
Her brows go up. She was not expecting this answer. Her hand stills in my hair. There is a question etched on her face.
"I never cared for them. So I don't care what you did to them. In fact, I'm happy they're gone. They've been making my life miserable since forever." I am surprised by how cold and callous my voice is to my ears. But I don't feel anything about them being gone. I don't at all.
She says nothing, just smiles.
"And what are you going to do about me?" I ask.
"Everything," Victoria promises and then blurs out of the room. A second later the bell rings to signal lunch is over. I have no idea what to do with myself anymore after everything that happened.
So I go home.