Torn

What the hell am I doing? Those words ran circles in my brain as I stood, motionless, outside of the comic book store, my hand stretched toward the handle of the front door. Their store wasn't open yet, and I wondered aimlessly if it would even be unlocked.

C'mon, just go inside. It's not like they're gonna send you back to Mother Dearest, I encouraged myself, sneering mentally at "Mother Dearest". With a sigh, I grabbed the handle, found the door unlocked, and headed inside.

The air inside was warm, but not as hot as the air outside. Music floated lazily from somewhere to my left. Allan and Edgar were sitting behind the check-out desk, their feet up on the counter. Both of them were reading comic books like anyone else would read a newspaper, and if I hadn't been so upset I would have laughed.

They both glanced up with surprise and must have immediately sensed that something was wrong because in seconds they were at my side.

"What are you doing here?" Allan asked, and I unthinkingly laid my palm on the cheek my mom had hit. "I'm not that welcome at my house at the moment," I replied.

Edgar narrowed his eyes. "It isn't that leech, is it?" he demanded and I shook my head. "No, not Marko…my mom. We got in a fight and she hit me and told me to get out of her sight," I told them, rolling my eyes to disguise my hurt. Edgar gave me a sympathetic half-smile and I returned it.

"I was wondering if I could stay here with you guys for a while. I don't really have anywhere else to go," I went on hesitantly and the two brothers exchanged a long glance. "I don't know…I mean, it's not like we really like you or anything," Allan replied, and at first I thought he was serious but after a moment I could hear the sarcasm.

"Oh, no, of course not. We hate girls named Megan," Edgar added but he smiled and winked at me. "Oh, me too, they're so annoying!" I added, playing along, and we all laughed.

"But, yeah, you can stay here as long as you don't mind living in this place," Edgar told me and I blinked in surprise. "You mean you guys live here?" I repeated, appalled and the brothers nodded solemnly. "But…why?" "Well, our aunt and uncle are always smokin pot so they never pay their rent. Eventually we had to move here when our house was foreclosed. Allan and I have to share a room," Edgar said, glaring at his brother. I could sense the words of a former argument, so I changed the subject.

"Well, where do your aunt and uncle sleep?" I asked, trying to think if I'd seen anymore rooms besides the store and brothers' room. "Upstairs," Allan said, glancing toward another door next to the one that said EMPLOYEES ONLY. The other one proclaimed STAIRS.

After a moment of brief silence, Edgar placed his hand on my shoulder. "Well, let's get you settled," he offered kindly and I blinked gratefully at him. "Thanks, guys."

So, the two brothers helped me set up in their room. Edgar had graciously offered to let me sleep in his bed for the time being while he slept on the floor. After I had made myself at home, all three of us sat on Edgar's bed and just talked. We talked for hours and hours, about the most random things until five o' clock, when the store opened. I helped them open the large sliding doors and then push some carts filled with comics outside. And when Allan asked me to stack a few newly arrived comics on the shelves, I got an idea.

"Hey, you two are the only ones who work here, right?" I inquired out of the blue. The brothers glanced up at me, puzzled. Edgar nodded and Allan rolled his eyes, saying, "Well, technically our aunt and uncle work here, too, but…" He trailed off and I nodded, feeling my gaze trail over to the two sleeping adults.

"How much do you two get paid?" I went on after a pause. "About eight bucks an hour…why?" Allan asked, but by the tone of his voice I could tell he knew where I was going. "Well, I was thinking that I could work here with you guys and that way I wouldn't have to be such a freeloader!" Edgar grinned lopsidedly at me. "You're not a freeloader," he protested. "Just wait till you've lived with her for a week," a voice said from the door.

We all jumped and whipped around to see Marko standing there. I opened my mouth to throw him a stinging retort…but then I really saw him. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was drawn, as if he were terribly sick. His body trembled slightly, as if he were shivering from the cold. But it wasn't cold and he wasn't sick…was he?

"Marko, what's wrong?" I asked, taking a step towards him. Edgar and Allan reacted quickly. Allan grabbed my arms and wrenched them behind me, pulling me backwards. Edgar stepped protectively in front of me, raising a stake that he pulled out of his belt. "Get out of here, bloodsucker," he warned as I struggled to break free.

"No, let me go!" I cried, finally managing to wriggle away and face the two brothers. "Guys, it's okay, he won't hurt me!" I assured them but they weren't convinced. At all. "Whatever you have to say to each other, you can say it across this distance," Edgar growled and I could tell that there was no room for arguments. With a resigned sigh, I turned back to my cousin.

"What's wrong?" I repeated. Marko sighed shakily. "I'm not really sure how to explain this but…Megan, you have to help me. I'm getting really weak because I haven't been, well…feeding. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I have to to survive. You have to help me, please!" Marko insisted, his voice weak and pathetic sounding. My heart ached to reach out to him, to hug him and tell him everything would be alright.

But the truth was, I couldn't reach out to him, I couldn't hug him and I couldn't tell him everything would be alright. Because if I got anywhere near him, I knew at that moment, that he wouldn't be able to resist. That he would feed on me if he smelled the blood in my veins. It was at that pivotal moment that I realized that my cousin really was dangerous.

"Marko, I…I don't know how to help you," I finally replied quietly, feeling tears well in my eyes. My cousin was dying of starvation and I couldn't do anything…but it would be horrible to kill a person, right? Even if it was for survival…right?

Despair filled Marko's eyes and he reached out to me. "Megan, please," he whispered and I reached out to him in return as the tears rolled down my face. Edgar and Allan tensed at my side.

Finally, Marko dropped his hand and uttered a small cry. And with that he raced out of the doorway and disappeared. "Marko!" I called after him. But no one called back.

I sobbed and then, without another word, raced into the brothers' room and slammed the door. As I fell into my new bed, crying my eyes out, I felt my heart tear in two. I had to help Marko...but I couldn't just kill someone so he could suck their blood! Dammit, I wish life were simpler!

R+R pleez! No flames.