CHAPTER FIVE

Thank you so very much to the miracle of medical drugs, I had fallen asleep, and to my surprise Nile had not left my side while I drifted off. I didn't want to go to sleep; scared when I woke up it would all be a dream. That when my eyes open reality would revive and to see myself back to face the world completely alone. The empty feeling that I would return to, knowing that my god had left me, for who would stay with a meek beast such as my self. I was a beast, and he was a beauty. But this was not a fairytale and never had this beast gotten a happy ending, nor did this beast think she ever would.

When I drifted back from blissful unconsciousness I was unable to open my eyes. They had not been swollen shut, nothing physically was stopping me from opening my blue eyes, but mentally there was superglue and heavy weights preventing me from opening them. I just did not want to do it, the empty feeling to be officially deepened to all new lows. Fear that my newfound friend had gone and left. My heart seemed to seize in my chest, such a draining emptiness that shook my whole being. Tears sprang eagerly to my eyes. A shameful thing for someone who simply does not accept the act of crying. It was disgusting. I should have known the god wouldn't stay with me. My imagination must have made this all up. No way in hell someone like him would be there for someone like me.

I finally opened my eyes and looked to the chair he had been sitting in the far right of the room. I felt a pang in my heart when I saw it was very much, real, and very much empty. And then pain filled my body with physically torture after I jumped from a voice close beside me. One that I had wished so desperately, to never hear again in my entire life. Or at least what little of it I had left.

"Well, little bitch, you fucking did it this time," my father growled like an overweight bear.

Looking over quickly to see my the face of not a god of course, but of a man who's aged face twisted in an ugly scowl as he glared infuriated down at me. Muscles around his left eye twitching, his face angry, grim, and ruthless. Well, at least I could thank this man for not giving me his looks, or his eye twitching.

"You fucking did it this time! So, you fucking that boy you little whore?"

My face filled with shock… Had I been hit walking home… was Nile just a beautiful dream… Or was her father actually stupid enough to believe Nile, beautiful Nile, had any relations to me other than friendship?

"Who? What?", I stammered with my mouth feeling as if a million cotton balls had been shoved in, daring to ask a question, confusion clearly in my face, I was sure of it. No doubt an open book at the moment. Usually I am the ice queen, able to hide my emotions. But the weariness had prevented me from caring to try and conceal my feelings. "Who! WHO! That bleach blonde bastard of course! Angelique Oleander you know what you have done!" his voice lowered considerably "You disserve to die. You had to tell someone. Didn't you"

Fear waved threw my entire body. He was enraged; going back to our hell house would seem to be my end. A tremble was now noticeable.

"I didn't tell anyone! I swear!"

How pathetic and desperate my voice was, rising in urgency. My heart skipped a beat as he shoved his hand over my mouth.

"Save it" he started, eyes boring into mine, a promise of death seemed to beam over to me, "For someone who believes you. You're fucking dead Angelique. This time you have gone to fucking far"

I had pain twisted on my face as his fist clench painfully around my wrist closest to him. This was a man I loathed to the deepest possible place of my shattered heart; he was like a knife that each day cut the stitches holding me together. If the pain he inflicted was not physical, it was mental. Yet I protected him, never had I said a word of his inflictions. No one asked questions usually, and having his reputation it was very rare. The fact he put images of himself away might have been my main argument to protect him, or simple love of parents.

Why did I go and take this. This moment was what he was, a ruthless monster, and an abusive father who surely never held any love for me. Being but a teenager, dieing really wasn't high on my list at this young of an age, I don't want to get old, wrinkled and as disturbed as my father, but I don't want to die now, only seventeen years old, with no memories to be passed around that were kind, everyone would likely think I had it coming, though.

"I would never tell. He guessed daddy, I would, and daddy, I do deny the fact with every fibber in me"

It was repulsive, the meagre beggars tone in my voice, and it was despicable. Discussing myself with my actions, my words. Tears threatened. But I didn't cry. That was one thing I was refusing that son of a bitch. No tears, no sobs, though my voice cracked as I spoke, I would rather be beaten then give him the satisfaction of my tears. He seemed to calm down, knowing I was still wrapped tightly around his little finger. His bad, clumsy daughter people felt sorry for him to have to raise alone. The one he despised and made life a living hell.

"Good. I don't have to kill you yet. I don't need any more paperwork"

With that he got up sharply and left the room. Nice to know that all you are is a regret, that your father saw you as better dead, but unnecessary paperwork. Sucking back a sob, alone again, knowing I was no doubt going to be at home and alone with him soon. Weeks of bed rest my ass, no way in hell was I going to remain in the house with him that long… Though a few days of sleeping would be nice and of course possible. I knew he had a big case and he would be gone most of all day for the next four days.

But as nice as it sounded for rest, and alone time, my heart felt empty. It was as if I knew I had just given up all hope. What more could I do? Perhaps run away and die alone still, just hungrier, on the street. He wouldn't care. Nobody would really care, sure, an 'I'm so sorry for your loss Mr. Oleander, if you couldn't help her, no one could have' and walk away, forgetting right after that, not truly caring. For the first time I felt I didn't either…

Looking out of the door still after he had gone, knowing that I was left in an empty room; my heartbeat again had become erratic and sighing shakily, finally was able to turn away from the departure area of my father. The pain that I felt in my heart had to be the worst thing that I had to endure, it was ten times worse then the aches and pains that clutched by fragile body.

Oh, by gods name I wanted to scream out and let every single rejection go, to break down and cry and just give up and let go. Feeling like one of those useless empty vessels. The way people could treat other people could be positively destructive. My life had many things that had been negative. What a fool I was to think that Nile could be one of the few positives that I could have.

Already I felt lost without him by my side, my father made it fact that he was indeed real, but the fact was of course that someone so made to perfection would notice the insignificance of a simple girl like me and disappear. Perhaps now it was sooner than later, better than to wait and watch with a growing longing knowing nothing other than friendship ill earned would be there.

I never noticed the stinging in my wrist, it was sharp and the arm was starting to swell. In a hospital I had a broken my wrist, or fractured most likely. The heat that rose was harsh and cruel. In a stiff, agonizing motion I sat up again and felt shock in my body as I started walking. Apparently I had a broken leg, or a bruised one. The swelling on the right leg was gross; with black and blue marks all up it. But I walked on towards the bathroom once I took off all of my intervenes, not what most kids did when they landed in the hospital.

But I again, wasn't most kids, and not in a good way. Walking in a way that must have made me look like a zombie from a bad horror movie, making my way over towards the bathroom, reaching the door and entering. Seeing my face slightly swollen black and blue. I was having immense issues with breathing. Pains rocketed threw my beaten chest that rose and fell in labour. Okay, so this was a stupid idea. What's new?

The left hand snaked out bruised by still flexible and rather fine, and turned on the sink, cold water fell onto my throbbing hand, dulling the fire that was burning so horridly in my hand. The raspy breath that scraped dryly down my parched throat was dreadful, feeling thirsty as hell, lowering my lips to the flow of water, not so great tasting metallic water, but water none the less.

The cool liquid slid down my throat, but it soon had be coughing harshly, and blood being thrown up into the sink, struggling so feverishly to keep breathing, to keep air getting into me tired lounges. Feeling disgusting, with a hand and entire body throbbing beyond comprehension. The burning in my hand had seemed to crawl all over my body. My god! The pure agony of it all. It spread into the struggling lounges, heaving and hacking shook my entire body, each injury blazed to live, heat stealing over my entire body recklessly.

In between each hacking cough I managed I gasped and attempted to regain control of myself, once the feverish fit of coughing and throwing up I found myself on the floor of the bathroom, face pressed in the pooling blood that started to harden, the floor was welcomingly cool to the touch…

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Niles Point of view :D

Returning finally after eons of waiting at my house after having the worst fight with my two families in recorded history, I had just left, stormed out without resoulving the problem that loomed overhead, and gone straight to the hospital, and to the room of the bizarre but wonderful Angelique Oleander I had the first shock of true panic that I had experienced in countless amounts of years. Horror and dread instantly played over my features, I knew it. But there was an empty bed.

My god, how could I leave her like that, a fool would only do that. I was a fucking fool, that son ova motherless whoring bitch must have come in here and taken her, and it was the most disgusting feeling that entered my gut as I saw the crimson fluid start to slowly crawl like millions of shiny red spiders from under the bathroom door.

Rooted to the spot I was standing with the pure dread knowing she could very well be dead, so many thoughts and fears raced threw my body I couldn't listen for her, as if fear held me back from confirming my fears, or proving them wrong, losing the one I wanted to protect while I should have been at her side was killing me.

Noticing the shaking that took my body, in rage and agony that tore fresh into my soul. Never, not even when once upon a time I had been normal, had those human feelings been so agonizingly strong. All I could here was my head spinning. No heart, no breathing. Then the reality that I could be killing her now hit me like a semi truck going two hundred miles an hour. Road killed. Moving swiftly I grasped the door in fear, without thinking about my secrets, and ripped the door with no hesitation or effort off its hinges and tossing it nearly out the room with the lightest movement of my hands.

In blood, with blood trailing from her beautiful mouth, lay Angelique, dead eyes gazing up at me, nothing seemed to be left in them. I had killed her by being to slow… I…

She lifted her eyes and met mine, mouth opening and closing useless, eyes full of pain and the sorrow of what she bore by herself. Rushing to her side and gently lifting her into my arms, she gasped in obvious pain, and then a hot feeling of pain screamed threw my body as her mouth opened, and slammed shut on my arm, the most vicious sucking sound came, and to shocked but to stair, she had no vampire blood in her… yet somehow she was suckling me like a vampire…

Feeling weak in moments before I nearly slid down to my knees, her mouth dropped with her head, her eyes had closed as if it was simply an animal instinct. Something was special about this child of a girl. Abused and hated, she was different, but now I knew it was in a way that even I, a vampire, couldn't understand. She didn't have any traits of a vampire, she didn't have the smell, the strength… She was fragile, breakable, but yet she seemed strengthened by her feast. I had to work fast. Cleaning her up and the room, of course remembering to replace the door as well. She was fine. Breathing again, still human as human gets… Accept she was much, much better, her broken arm and leg mended, her lounges now fine, breathing easily…

It was impossible, yet here she was. Living breathing proof of something… Something strange and bizarre, something that couldn't save her.

She feasted off my blood. That hit me like a ton of bricks. My steel strong skin, impossible as well, slid threw like it was butter. My eyes leered over the wound that was closing very slowly. The room looked normal, she did, my arm the only thing that proved what happened had in fact happened. But she drank my blood. If she was ever bitten by one of my kind now, no matter what, drained dry, or simply nibbled, she would be a vampire. She had my blood…

Disgust filled my, I had spoiled her and most likely saved her life at the same time. How could I stay close to her without hurting her? But somehow I knew that leaving could be just as bad and agonizing for her, if not worse.

So much I had to solve, but for now… I was not going to leave her side now. How I wished that it was possible to simply take her into my arms and save her from the horrors that made up her unfair life.