booklover457: You'll have to wait and see on that one! Who knows, it may happen? ;)

Merrill: Thank you! Sorry it's taken so long, been very busy XD

Awaken

Mike PoV

My eyes come open and instantly I feel drowsy with some energy peaking. The sun's going down. I can tell that from how dim the room has become since I was last awake. Well, barely. I let out a low groan. It feels as though my insides are being ripped up, like I guess I'm eating myself from the inside because I felt like I haven't eaten in days.

Then, I realize - I really haven't eaten in days. I originally thought my lack of hunger was due to the maggot rice David had 'gifted' me. Solid food isn't what I hunger for now. I grimace and hope this torture is just a bad dream. But, no. It isn't. That gnawing feeling of something clawing at me inside is still there and feel like its chewing me up, or twisting and shifting inside of me like some kind of alien creature trying to take over my body.

I really wish I had never watched Aliens now with Sam.

With a quick glance, I can see Sierra is still asleep. She'll probably be awake soon as the sun is almost down. I stand up and take the few steps over to her, looking down at her and absorbing her physical appearance in, noting the fear in her slumbered movement. She looks like she was having a nightmare by the expression on her face and the way she was tensed up. I'm not surprised, my own dreams aren't pleasant, but they where... strange.

"Sierra?" I lower my hand to her shoulder and give a slight shake, but she only shifts a little in sleep, her nightmare still holding her. She isn't screaming or having a fit so I figure I might as well let her sleep while I change clothes.

In the rest room, I try avoiding looking at the mirror at my almost non-resistant reflection. I look like a ghost in it and that is just far too unnerving to see a ghost of myself peering back at me. I hang my dirty shirt over it as it's a better sight than my own currently. I found out yesterday I don't get along with water at least it coming out of the faucet. I stop up the sink and dip a rag into it, seemingly the water, as long as it was still, isn't uncomfortable. It isn't as good as a bath, but I could at least clean off some of the dirt and days of sweat so I don't smell like major B.O. I don't think Sierra or my family would favour that too much. In fact, I wouldn't favour it too much either.

I clean up and after a good wipe down, I spray on some cologne and put on a clean white shirt, then my grey sweatshirt over it. I mostly own blue jeans and a few dress clothes for special occasions. Like the tux for school dance last year. Back in Phoenix. After dressing and rehydrating myself accompanied with a nice fragrance, I return to my room so I can wake up Sierra, hoping her nightmare hasn't instigated anxiety within her. Deliberating over that, she seems like a strong girl, maybe a little too strong...

Sierra appears like she is still asleep when I come out from the bathroom. Thankfully, she doesn't look to be having a hard time, more composed than earlier, so I step out, but noticed Sam's door open. This is my chance. When I beckon him in a soft tone, he shuts the door. Releasing a sigh, I'm uncertain regarding what to think of my brother spying on me from his room. I turn and step back into my room. There is a candle on the table flickering its orange flame of hope in the darkness. I have to at least have some light, since bright light was irritating and made me a lot less nice.

Sierra's looking like she was waking now, so I stride hastily over to her.

"Hey, you said you wanted go to that comic shop on the boardwalk, right?" Still, this confuses me as I muse over what the hell comics have to do with turning into a vampire; other than they give Sam nightmares and he wets his bed which isn't too nice when you wake up in the morning.

Sierra PoV

As I arise from my forced slumber during the suns hours, there is a contrast. My heart pounds at the speed of light, yet my eyes glide open at a leisurely pace as I emerge from the horrific nightmare, making that transition from a nightmare in the land of dreams, to another nightmare in reality. A flash of the platinum blonde hair, his serrated claws violently grazing over my brother's face, crimson blood seeping from the wounds, the compulsion to kill not abandoning me even in a dream, causes me to frown. I can only remember vividly the heinous chuckles and the screeches from my brothers lips as excruciated was unwillingly imposed onto him.

My muscles stretch themselves, a hushed groan escaping from my voicebox to accompany the natural process of stirring oneself. I feel slightly bewildered, examining my contemporary surroundings, not sure to where I am. Then, I realise the blinding light, meeting a mysterious and attractive man with only the name Michael being my solitary detail, wasn't another dream escorting the nightmare. Everything, each fragment, was authentic. I still have the piece of paper clasped in my hand, as if my unconscious self never wanted to be separated from it. I was hoping it was a dream. I want home, wherever home is.

I glance at Michael quickly, remembering who he is and the kindness he has shown to me by allowing me to rest here for the night despite my stubborn nature at its peak unleashing onto him the night prior to tonight. I smile at him, a welcome so to speak. He seems a little saddened, which instigates my first estimate to be the way Star portrayed a woman whose interest was devoted to him for an everlasting period. Of course, it was soon revealed that interest and adoration was counterfeit, and all she desired was a hero. It truly made me feel disillusioned in her, my best friend had reached the forlorn desperateness, disregarding any help I offered. Not only that, but it seems out of character, and I am still having issues with getting over what she has done. By allowing her own selfishness to intervene with a hazardous issue, she has inflicted horrible events onto an innocent person who was once oblivious to the demons Santa Carla incarcerates at night.

"The comic store? Um yeah, I've got people there I need to see" I murmur through a yawn, bending over my knees to attain my leather bag containing objects I deemed suitable during the hectic procedure of leaving home for the night, stuffing the note into the depths of it before setting my sights onto Michael again. "Can I use your bathroom, please? I just need to get changed" Michael gives me his consent, and with a smile, I go to the bathroom in order to get changed. Before I close the door tenderly behind me though, I want to express my gratitude to him again. He didn't have to provide me with a place to rest my head for the night, but did it anyway in spite of the fact we are complete strangers to each other. "Thanks again by the way for letting me stay here for the night" I meekly smile again, some of my shy nature leaching out of the smile and the softness in my tone, before closing the door.

30 minutes later...

I feel more freshened now that I have minty breath to aid the health of my pearl white teeth and an ivory bohemian mini dress, the sheer crochet lace inlay on the fluttery sleeves finishing roughly three inches above my elbows and chest reflecting the composed portions of the 70's smeared with a vanilla aroma instead of the salt belonging to the ocean. I adore this dress and was in such a haste mood to desert the house just for one night, I picked the carelessly tossed dress up and stowed it into the leather bag. I straighten the semi-sheer naturally crinkled, gauzy fabric, wanting to look presentable in order to remain dignified. One thing I will keep intact during this mayhem is my dignity, and that's a promise I've made to myself. I needn't smear any foundation onto my face due to my natural bronzed complexion possessing no blemishes from puberty and the fact my appearance is fading away with each passing moment. Still, I managed to successfully neaten my tight waves with a gentle curl to the black coffee strands thickly cascading to my lower back so they look sophisticated and neat. All I had to do was brush a little tanned blusher on my cheeks, paint a sleek line of glamorous black mascara on my eyelids, flicking them at the end so my extensive eyelashes plastered in approximately three coats of black mascara appear more elongated. With my quick routine concluded, I step out of the bathroom with my bag and smile at Michael who continues to stand at the edge of his bed.

"Ready to go?" my gentle voice sounds out, causing Michael to turn around. Hopefully, he agrees. I need to see my brothers, and although I have lost my faith, I can't help but to implore someone lurking beneath those stars that they can recall my name.

Mike PoV

All I could do was pace while Sierra freshened up or changed clothes. The sound of a door closing catches my attention and then footsteps going down the stairs. Sam is joining mom for dinner and probably figures I'm gone. I probably would have left by now if Sierra wasn't here or if I really had someplace to be.

Star is out of the question.

The Boardwalk holds no interest and I possess no reason to be there other than Sierra's wanting to go there. I'm still bemused at her request to visit the comic book store.

David would likely be at The Boardwalk and I sincerely don't want to see him. As much as I am pissed at him, I want to see Star's face even less. Star will probably be at the Boardwalk with them, I hope that when we get there we can avoid running into either. I wince as I hear my mom calling me down for dinner. Her guest was here. Oh great. Some douche nugget to replace my douche bag father. I'm so looking forward to this.

Not.

I stop in my pacing and stand next to my bed whilst listening to the conversation below. A man named Max has just arrived and my mom graciously asks him to come in. Sam is saying something about his friends coming over. Great, the dweeb already has friends. What do I have? A blood sucking gang that wants to make me one of them for whoever knows why and a girl who used me. I should have turned away that first night when she jumped on the back of that bike, but I felt so drawn to those innocent doe eyes that said save me from him... I just didn't know it was literally save me and 'Oh yeah, see yea afterwards cause now I'm done, nice knowing you'

There has to be some way around this, something other than falling into a freaking deprived heap wanting to drag someone else down to claw my way out like Star seems to have... And well other than this fucking hunger and the alien feelings I get, it can't be all that bad? I mean I don't have to drink human blood, do I? I can control this. I just need to eat something. Something, not someone. I might be able to buy blood from the store. All I need is blood, so as gross as that is, it can't be any worse than chugging raw eggs.

If it gets rid of this gnawing thing inside and makes it happy enough to stop urging me to kill, then I'll just have to deal with extra protein in my diet. My face scrunches up in disgust; I can't imagine drinking blood, even store bought from the deli. The thought doesn't revolt me as much as it should. I stand to attention and exit this demented reverie of mine quickly as Sierra enters. She looks pretty good.

"Sure, let's go." I zip up my jacket, then reach over and pinch the candles flame out. "Mom's got some douche over for dinner and wants me to meet him. I don't, but hey, I probably don't have a choice" I roll my eyes and embark downstairs.

"Michael? Come meet Max and it's almost time for dinner, your friend can join too. There's room for more" Mom calls out as I start down the stairs as quietly as possible. Damn it, she does she have sonar hearing or something?

"Guess we're screwed, at least we can still run out of here after we 'meet' him" We get down stairs and I turn to the dining room and peek in. I have to tell her that I am taking off with Sierra to The Boardwalk. "Got plans, Mom..."

My voice trails off as I see a grade A major dork or extremely geeky older man having taken a seat at the table nearest mom as Sam's friends are just now taking a seat.

"Um..." Yeah, I have nothing. These two kids look like they have just came back from an audition for the next Stallone movie and I really want nothing to do with Max.

Strangely enough I have this feeling of hate on sight. I'm starting to wonder if I should worry about the drinking water because given my time here, I've hardly met any normal people. Hell, there was this girl out on the street tonguing a rat on our way into the city.