Mike PoV

Sun is coming up and I am heading to my room. It was a big mistake to mention vampires to Mom. After Sierra vanished inexplicably, well, that's what we did. It earned Sam and I a threat of therapy. Great, I need a therapist now, just fucking great; therapy won't make me stop this damned craving. I think Mom lost it when Sam started saying I was being turned into one and tried to get her and I into the bath room and show her my reflection, or lack of it. Mom raised her voice, no yelled for us to be quiet. Yelling is something my mom infrequently does, so the shock of it was expected but still gave both Sam and I a jolt in the heart.

The Frog kids looked stunned, they had no idea what to do or think with an angry adult. We can't blame Mom though, after that failed attempt in the dining room. She pretty much thinks we're trying to purposely sabotage her chances at a relationship, and well, vampires aren't supposed to exist. Edgar and Alan had left back for their home, concluding a very bad, very failed night.

"We're so screwed." I hear Sam say. He had stayed up, but having Mom so upset and then paranoia does that. I think he's getting over the fact of what happened to me since he's not acting like a little ass and shunning me away to the shadows now.

"No, there's got to be a way out of this, he can be taken out during the day" I responded, leaning against my door with Sam standing outside his.

"That's the prob, that damned hell dog, Mike. We can't get in 'till we get rid of it and I don't have a big hell dog kill o'matic. Do you have a hell dog kill o' matic? Didn't think so! So we're screwed and I don't know what we'd done if he went vamp on us tonight, didn't think of that, but we'd probably be vamp chow" Sam looks pretty dejected right now. I doubt he's given up; Sam's stubborn and won't stop.

"Hey, we'll find a way out of this" I run my hand threw my hair. It is easier said than done. I've finally come to accept the facts that this is all real and made it easier to curb my tone with Sam and not be so impatient and irritable, because I know it's not me. Sure, Sam is irritating, but I'm use to it and have never had it get to me before. I'll be able to handle this, at least until we kill Max. Sam and the Frog kids had both clued me in. Kill Max and I'll change back to normal. No more cravings and weird feelings or gut wrenching pain and alien things warping the inside of me. We remove Max, we could end this nightmare.

Then, it occurs to me: David was likely going to retaliate in the event Max is killed, so I guess we'll have to get to that point when we come to it as Max is the bigger problem and needs to be removed before he captures Mom. I turn and open my door.

"Sam we'll deal, just try to sleep, we'll figure something out"

"Yeah, sure" Sam doesn't sound confident, but he had a determination in his voice. Determination it is mandatory we all possess. As I enter into my bedroom, the first thing I see is my blue duvet on the floor crumpled up from when Sierra placed it over me as I allowed her to take the bed. That reminds me instantly: Where is she?

Sierra PoV

David disintegrates hastily, like some omnipotent power removed him before he could harm me. I feel utterly isolated, abandoned in these shadows. I wrap my arms around my waist so they overlap each other. I've never felt so removed from my soul and people before in my seventeen years of living. I want home, to be around those who cared for me. I don't want to be strong anymore, but it's become so affixed to my personality that there is no ridding it.

I muse over Michael's words, the flash of enragement as I accused him etching his face before soothing. I wasn't intending on getting myself killed, it was simply an idiotic diversion. I didn't even know what was gorging out of my mouth during those suggestions. The aftermath of it has only deserted me with humiliation and insanity. I'm scared, more than scared in fact, petrified. Even now that I know the facts, I still feel oblivious to what is happening to me interior and exterior.

Someone to open up to, to be consoled by is what I desperately need. I can't locate that person anywhere though as I fear they will breach my trust like so many beforehand have done. Michael said about what was so wrong about letting someone in, about confining in someone, and to others there is nothing wrong in the notion. With me, however, it's like betraying my instinct somebody will harm me emotionally like my parents and sister have. Delilah was the only one who could alleviate me, and then she vanished and veiled herself from me for three years until it was my turn to be selected in joining the collection of nightstalkers.

I crouch onto the ground, really despising this recollecting sessions swarming my mind with negativity. Michael didn't want me to go, he wanted me to stay. I'm nothing but a danger to him now though, I could feel the urge to kill devouring my human side, and I had to flee before I harmed him. I didn't want to get emotionally attached to him, even if the attachment was weak. This tough facade is who I am, but sometimes, I can't be strong all the time, and so much to my dismay, weakness commences seeping out. I'm alone here, nobody truly knows me. If I told them my story of the previous night, would they stay or would they deem me crazy and sprint as fast as possible? The second option sounds more conceivable to my thoughts.

Why did I have to falter in front of him twice? I don't comprehend why he was the special one my weakness displayed itself to. I sigh out of vexation; I don't know what to think. All I know are two things, I'm afraid and alone in a world I hate and I still want to aid Michael and his family, but the vampire luring inside of me has developed so far. If someone was injured and I released any human part of me unwillingly, I could never forgive myself. I didn't mean for my words to sound as if I wanted Sam or The Frogs to get involved, if anything, I wanted them to stay as far away as possible from the situation in order to avoid getting themselves harmed. They are too young to be dealing with something so dangerous and vital.

"Sierra?" I hear a deep, Spanish accent ask, fingertips delicately touching my shoulder where they tuck the wavy strands of black coffee hair behind my pierced ear. What the hell? "Are you Sierra May Frog?"

"Yes, and please, leave me alone. No offence, but I'm not exactly in the right position to be talking to others currently" I attempt to croak in an apologetic voice, keeping my view casted downwards, even averting my eyesight from the photograph and note he slips under my chin. "I don't want any company right now. I'm content just sitting here, thank you"

"Sierra, I'm your father" the man whispers. My heart jolts and my ears disbelieve everything I just perceived.

Have I found my father?