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Michael PoV
I ponder over what Sierra commented on, noting that her voice was more quiet than earlier. Then again, she was pretty infuriated, probably for the identical reason as my annoyance. But she seemed apologetic, but didn't shower me with pity, as well.
"Heh, I'll survive, though it's the first time I've been duped into vampirism... Oh fuck this shit's real?" I am still having a hard time believing all of this. It's just something you get out of a horror movie, not in reality. It's like I'm residing in a dream, but I'm fully aware it's not. "I'm screwed though if I develop a need to sleep in my home soil" I shake my head to remove the surplus thought, not wanting it in my head at all. I recall she also formally introduced herself as Sierra, even if David had done for her prior. She must be doing it out of personal courtesy. "I'm Michael" I furrow my brow, she knows my name anyway. Star pointed that one out before she even knew me.
I feel weak and exhausted, like I am drugged. It almost frightens me as I take off, turning the bike towards my grandpas, because I almost pass out from the sudden movement. And the feeling that me and daytime compatibility is only going to get worse – I know that for a fact.
-
It isn't long before I pull up into the driveway of my Grandpa's, the journey being shorter than I had determined. However, the fatigue makes the voyage seem longer. I turn the motor off and coast in, hoping not to get anyone's attention with the evident roar of a bike engine entering the drive. I get off and offered to help her, though I feel like I could use help myself what with day time Valium trying to put me to sleep. I guess it's good considering the nightmares I should have from this would keep me awake. I reach over and take Sierra's hand and head for the back entrance, hoping to avoid running into my family.
Sierra PoV
I fasten my hand with his as vertigo swarms my entire body, the long week of my soul being trapped with a monster, adding on the extra five days to make twelve days of being like this, feels like it is killing me. Every step I take in the sunlight brings me weakness under duress, but when the moonlight replaces the rays of sun, it's like power reinstates itself. Yearning nothing more to surrender is a weakness, but it is so desirable when the time has elongated. I am clueless to when the homicidal exhort to become a full monster will arrive again, but I will be prepared to battle and tame it when it does so happen to select a timing.
"Thank you" I blearily murmur as I grasp onto his leather jacket to prevent crashing to the ground. I notice Michael stumble a little, grunting as he does so. "Sorry about that. Here, lean on me, you could do with some help" I inform him, patting my shoulder in a gesture. Though my pitch is hazy from the faint sensation of the daylight compelling me to sleep, the tone is suggesting I am basically commanding him for his own good. We begin staggering into the back of the house estranged from the majority of citizens residing in Santa Carla, the only reminder of the location being the horizon view of The Boardwalk. "Yeah, this is real. I've been going through this for almost two weeks now, and I can definitely say it's real"
I rewind time in my mind and muse over my concluding sentence to Michael. Two whole weeks, and throughout all of it, I've been resolute to return back to my natural human state. The walls are beginning to crumble, though, and I've started questioning the realistic notion of becoming fully human once more. God, I hope I can return.
Then, Michael releases me, his touch being almost alarmed like somebody is about to attack. I hear a gentle voice though, which composes me slightly, the female voice causing me to estimate that she is his mother. From the concerned mannerism etched on her face, she has noticed me stumbling over to where Michael is standing. She doesn't appear contented at all; I know I wouldn't be if I had a teenage son conveying unknown girls to her household in the early hours of the morning when the son hasn't been seen for most of the night. I conquer a fractional portion of my debility to remain conscious only presenting itself subsequent to dawn and angle my rosy lips into a meek smile out of respect, a lesson I was educated about earlier in life, waving slightly.
Michael PoV
Fat chance of avoidance as Mom has made herself comfortable on the back porch off the kitchen. Lucky me. She commences saying something, another lecture I'll half listen to even if I'm not feeling like the sun is trying to lobotomize me where I stand. She mentions something about school then looks around to see the girl behind me, which blown the retort I had planned to say. It wouldn't be as convincing to tell her I have more problems than school and girls when I'm bringing one home.
"This is Sierra..." I say groggily. My head spirals out of control when I make a quick motion to gesture to Sierra. "Sierra, my mom, Lucy"
Mom is giving me this stern questioning look. She probably isn't sure what to say because when I've brought girl's home, it was mostly at night and then I had to deliver them home by eleven. Currently, it's early morning. Meaning, it's abnormal behaviour to Mom for me to return back home with Sierra without prior notice accompanying me. I couldn't have just abandoned her back at the cave for her to just walk back by herself, especially when she's suffering like myself.
Sierra PoV
"Hey, it's nice meeting you, Mrs Emerson" my collapsing voice says in the most courteous way possible, moving my voluminous locks of tight waves to veil the jagged scar on my bicep.
This is a ritual I always do when meeting somebody new since the scar on my arm is a severe insecurity of mine that I usually hide with either the options of hair or foundation. Unfortunately, the foundation was eradicated when I slipped out of the ocean prior to confronting Star, so my black coffee strands are the facade I can use currently. Due to my bemused mind state, I'm not sure whether I should be relieved that it wasn't my father who created the scar out of a hallucinated inducement or furious that a man who isn't even related to me biologically or emotionally was allowed to strike me in my mother's presence, and vice versa. I don't know what to feel, but according to the note resting in the pits of my pocket, my biological father resides wherever I am. For the blemish on my throat, I have a necklace to conceal the evidence of what happened that night when I was sixteen. The fact somebody even harmed me in that way, whether we are related or not, it was unjustifiable.
Michael PoV
My mom has me take off my sunglasses, wanting me to look at her when talking. She isn't too intent on letting this drop. I don't like lying to my mom, not telling her something's one thing, but lying is another. She smiles at Sierra, but I could tell she isn't too happy at what looks like me coming back from a wild night out with a girl I probably had been doing questionable stuff with all night as far as she knows. She is concerned and asking me about problems, telling me I can talk to her, giving glances to Sierra. I just want to get inside.
"Sierra, her mom threw her out. She's a friend honest, nothing happened, was helping her all night, so we're both tired" I hope
Sierra won't skin me for that later, but I had think something on the spot. Then, something occurs to me, what if that justification was true? She's isolated and seems to have nowhere to go; could it be that was the sincere truth?
"We're still friends aren't we?" My mom asks this as I'm turning to go in the kitchen... Oh God, I must seem extremely lame to Sierra.
"Yeah, we are" I reach over and grab Sierra's arm and tug on her to get her in the kitchen before my mom opens up to say something that will make me feel even more embarrassed... so much for not being embarrassed further - Sam and Grandpa are in the kitchen.
Sierra PoV
I continue to smile at Lucy until Michael tugs on my lace camisole top to suggest it's time we got some rest.
"It was nice meeting you, Mrs Emerson" Quickly, I wave goodbye and access into the house with Michael, perceiving a blatant cough travelling from the Japanese style doors masquerading a dim burgundy light, causing my eyes to flicker over to the location of the amused cough, seeing a pair of elderly lurid eyes. I hastily smile and get ready for the wearisome journey up the stairs.
"Lean onto me, the stairs are the hardest part during the daytime" I whisper to him, ensuring his grandfather can't hear as we begin to climb the stairs, my spare arm that isn't around Michael's shoulders to aid him clutching onto the wooden banister.
Michael PoV
I hasten my stride, praying frantically that Grandpa says nothing ludicrous as he is renowned for doing in my family. We are soon to the first step of the stairs, following Sierra's advice and leaning gently onto her. She's frail herself, and my muscle makes me a little more heavy. Before, I nodded at Sam with a slight smile, shunning Grandpa completely. I inwardly thrust my first into the air, celebrating that nothing has been said.
"So took ca... Who's she?" Sam has this 'what the hell' look on his face as he stalked me to the stairs.
Grandpa, however, has this perverse grin plastered across his face. Now, I'm begging silently for him not to say anything.
"Looks like I wasn't the only one got lucky last night" I think I'm going to die now. "You and Sierra, don't have too much fun up there in your room now. Save that for when you're alone" Okay, now I am going to die.
I pull Sierra along and out of the kitchen and basically sprint up the stairs, hauling her with me.
"Sorry about that. My whole family is weird. Well my mom's normal... Sorry" She probably thinks I'm a complete freak now. Great, just my luck.
Sierra PoV
I can fruitfully disclose that I am utterly bewildered. I know this house, and I know the elderly man situated in front me with a receding snow white hairline shielded by a dilapidated rag secured in a knot encircling his forehead due to the fact I came here as a little girl many nights to be taken care of alongside my other siblings. However, I don't believe for one minute I am in the Santa Carla I was born and raised in. If I was, Star and Laddie would be in a somewhat more safer hands than desolate without aid. David and the others would be fanatical about me joining their clan of immoral creatures. From the belt across the face orginating from Dwayne, I knew I couldn't be in the same place. Dwayne would never even challenge himself to violently injure me like that, because according to him, he is madly in love with me, much to my dismay. I've never once fallen into a pit of devotion to another on my own accord, especially not Dwayne. No, he mentally encouraged that himself in the arena of mind games where the result was me being the declining loser, and him being the winner.
At Michael's words provided to his mother, I felt a sharp pain of truth. My mother's husband would have catapulted me out of that shambles of a home as soon as the very sentence 'Sierra isn't your daughter' was uttered, whether it be from my mother or myself. I loathe him so much it's almost like a different type of love, like I adore despising him for all of the misfortune he hauled me into. He isn't my father, and yet my mother allowed him to do such a thing to her own child? The daughter who she hid the sincere paternity from for seventeen years? To my aggravation, a tear deviously slips out of my eye and tumbles down my cheek, causing me to sharply remove my hand from Michael's to wipe it away before anyone could even apprehend of what I desperately crave to do, sniffing quietly for a singular time. My walls have almost expired from stress and upset, but I won't grant them to collapse completely. I'm too obstinate to descend that far into upset, especially when I am in the presence of others. It isn't Michael's fault, he doesn't know anything about me nor did he have the time to select a reasonable excuse.
I am snapped out of my thoughts again as I percieve Michael's grandpa insolently comment on my sudden arrival, even verbally conceding my name. My eyes widen, the tips of my extensive lashes nearly touching the bottom of my well nurtured eyebrows, along with my full lips parting a little. I can't speak, but instead, stare at him in disbelief that he could even say something so outrageous. Then again, if the Grandpa of wherever I am is like the Grandpa Emerson I know, then this is a normal conduct for him.
"Um, I'm Sierra. Erm, hey?" I reply to the younger boy's astonished question as he watches me leave, his jaw dangling as far as it can drop. Michael soon drags me to the stairs again, my farewell being a hasty smile and wave goodbye.
"Oh, I would lean on her any day. Sam, if Michael doesn't get that girl, you know what to do before I get her myself. Hey, don't look at me like that, your old granddaddy still has game" I can ignore Grandpa's disreputable remarks for now, only concentrated on sleeping so I can gain deserted energy back. "She looks like a dancer, those lean legs. Flexibity, good choice" I bite my bottom lip in frustration, this is more than mortifying. In fact, the atmosphere goes beyond that definition. "Looks Hispanic as well, oh he is in for a fiesty treat. Ooh, see how he's tugging on her, Sammy? Now, that is your brother wanting to get busy! Very sexy woman like that, no wonder he can't move her any quicker. Oh, Sammy, if only I was younger - I would" I wish the side effect of being a half-vampire could be anything but sensitive hearing. I can't stop feeling the scorching heat of red leak into my cheeks. "Be proud of your brother, Sam, from the looks of it he gave her more loving than those long dancing legs could take!"
"Say what?" I squeak in a whisper, furrowing my eyebrows and dropping my jaw, nothing but attempted words exiting. "I - wha - I think your Grandpa - I mean, what the hell? I - erm, yeah, that's all I can say. Oh my God" I sigh, covering my eyes as I draw out the long breath. We enter Michael's bedroom, the walls smeared in an ivory paint, few posters of bands being pinned onto them. "Um, don't worry about it. I've got brothers that -"
I pause for a moment, casting my eyesight down as it has just hit me, having an adverse effect on me, that Edgar and Alan are my half-brothers. I really thought they were my full brothers, that we shared every gene possible to possess. I am only half related to them though. I bite my lip, feeling that rush of tears coming to me, but quickly get rid of them. Everything has just constructed negatively onto me, so much that tears were liberated in front of someone I hardly know. I'm a tough person to an extent, only to compensate for what my attitude has been required to be for all of my life due to various events. I shake my head, expelling the thoughts that claw at my tear glands.
"I've got brothers. Anyway, you don't need to apologize to me, you've got nothing to be sorry for. I mean, you're still a pretty cool guy to me" I smile warmly, then clearing my throat and consenting my eyes to quickly scour around my surroundings, a new habit I've picked up. "Um, we better get some sleep. Thanks for letting me stay here, I really appreciate the help"
Michael PoV
Shoot me, shoot me now, I think as I grit my teeth and smile at Sierra, noticing the red flush entering her cheeks. I could hear what my grandpa had decided to discuss with Sam, and damn it if I didn't know any better I'd think he knew we could hear him, like it was supposed to have been said more for our benefit than his own perverted mind. I know I'm probably red in the face from all that the old man is saying.
"Uh sure. I guess. But uh he's. Well Sam thinks he's an alien, that's how freaky my grandpa is" I notice the tears congregating into her eyes, wondering what could have upset her so suddenly.
I don't like seeing girls cry in any circumstance, so I'm more than overjoyed when they disappear just as quickly. It couldn't have been her offence at Grandpa's perverted remarks, she didn't seem in the slightest hurt by it. I shake it off, glad that she's okay now.
I sigh, feeling a lot better getting to my room; it is dark and dim with the blinds drawn on it, so it instantly soothes me.
"Take the bed, I can sleep on the floor." With that, I yawn and toss my sunglasses on the bedside table, then squat in the corner.
The idea of a girl in my room sleeping in the day seems odd, but then this whole situation is odd. I am tired, cranky, have less patience during the day. Night, I am less tolerant and easily annoyed and likely to snap. I'm not sure how much is from this vampire thing and how much is just me. Things are just fucking odd, freakish and my brother is now paranoid I'm going to eat him.
Sam's tone when he started to ask me something came out a little harsh sounding, like I was supposed to correct something I did wrong. Then again, I did try to kill him. That reminds me, Nanook had bitten my hand and it no longer hurt. I raise it up and pull the blood stained cloth from it. Just blinking at what I see, which is nothing, not even a scab, I move my fingers and turn my hand over. Nothing is wrong, like last night never happened. I want to believe it didn't, but I'm not so foolish, because I can still feel something's wrong with me, something inside wanting to claw its way out. Right now, though, all I feel is a need to rest.
"Don't worry about it, I mean couldn't leave you walking back. Sorry I couldn't take you home, just had to get back here and I'd probably got us both killed riding anymore than I did anyway" I chuckle, no humour to it, I might be going insane. "Thanks." I smile warmly at her as she hovers around my bed. She thinks I am cool and barely knows me.
At least I'm not totally the new guy who doesn't know shit. To someone, I'm the cool new guy that doesn't know shit. I don't know if she says anything else after that as I just completely pass out right there on the floor, drifting to a place more clement than this.
Sierra PoV
"It's alright, I'm telling the tru -" I interrupt my own train of course as I realise the expected silence has dawned, and as I rotate around, I notice Michael has fallen asleep before I can even protest on the sleeping arrangements, slumped onto the floor.
I smile a little, placing the black leather bag I had packed to the brim with personal objects and the essential pieces of equipment such as cosmetics and a toothbrush whilst my mother was imploring me not to abandon the house, onto the edge of the bed. I was planning on going to a close friends house for the night just to get my head unfurnished, removing the burdening thoughts upsetting me then and now. There was a high possibility I would have danced the night away until I couldn't express anymore of my upset and gotten intoxicated to an extreme I haven't experienced before. I didn't know what I was going to do. I had no scheme devised, only my cluttered musings taunting me and the moon to guide me to a location where I could soothe myself.
I gather the navy blue duvet up and grasp onto a pillow, situating it under Michael's mane of loose curls, causing him to snuffle a little as I tenderly raise his head so I can do this. I giggle in a hushed tone at him snuffling, murmuring words in his sleep. I wonder what he is dreaming about, hopefully something happy that can deliver him to a brief paradise away from the trauma and ferocity of tonight. Then, I shield his torso with the duvet, wrapping it around him slightly. After doing this, I glance at him for at least two seconds before climbing onto the bed where there is only a thin blanket now. This was his house after all, and I don't mind not sleeping with a duvet or pillow. I've done so before and it hasn't affected me. I find it abnormal to be sleeping on a bed again after three years of entering a deep slumber on multiple blankets and two plump pillows.
I dig through my pockets, locating the crumbled piece of paper, scanning the words quickly. As I fall into a deep sleep and embark into the comforting darkness, I keep the paper clutched in my fingers.