I approached the doors of the blood bank, meaning to stock up. The past few nights had been nothing short of hectic and I didn't want to go through the trouble of hunting.
The first thing that had thrown me for a loop was the whole ordeal with Therese and Jeanette. That they had turned out to be the same person had blown my mind. I wandered if they had always been the same person. From what I could gather, their mother had died when they were young, leaving only their father, who drank and molested young Therese. I thought that maybe Jeanette had been created as not only a companion, but an escape for Therese. Or it could have been that they had been separate at one time, but perhaps after Therese had been embraced and gone to find her sister, Jeanette had been dead or so terrified of what Therese had become, she shunned her. Maybe in a desperate moment of psychosis, Therese had taken on her sister's personality to keep her with her.
Whatever the case, the Therese personality was dead and only Jeanette remained. She had begged me to stay with her, afraid to be alone, but I could not. I told her this and she had cried. I had promised to visit as much as I could though, and this had cheered her up.
My next headache had come from the young girl I had saved in the hospital, Heather. She had found me, banging on the door of my haven and begging entrance. I had allowed her in, out of curiosity more than anything. She begged me to keep her around, claiming that she loved me and could not live without me. I did not understand what she was talking about and turned her away, afraid of the risk she posed to me or I to her. She had collapsed on the floor, weeping and I had left her there to go to the blood bank.
I sighed and reached for the handle of the blood bank doors, my hand just barely touching the handle before it swung open and I came face to face with the same blue eyes that had glared at LaCroix with such hatred weeks before. Those eyes met mine now, a look of recognition coming across them. He opened his mouth to call me by name, only to realize he didn't know my name. We stared at one another, dumbfound for a moment.
"Mister Rodriguez," I said. His face broke out in a grin and I couldn't help but return it. Despite his age, his leer had a boyish quality to it that was rather charming.
"No one calls me that but LaCroix," he said, stepping forward and taking my hand.
"Come one, let's go somewhere to talk." I glanced at the blood bank, then decided that stocking up could wait.