COVID Mary |
16 year old Elise Scott has always loved to read. She started writing real stories at the age of 12. Elise’s father Derick always encouraged her writing, along with her mother Tiffany, her younger sister Thelia (14) and her grandmother Anna. Elise enjoys vintage tractors, playing the flute, and various fandoms, her favorite being Harry Potter. She has a 9 year old dog named Violet and a kitten named Mittens. She is currently going into her senior year at high school attending Chippewa Valley High School, located in Clinton Township, Michigan, where she has grown up. She also enjoys spending time outdoors at her second home in Port Hope, Michigan. |
THE ROSE DIARIES
PART ONE
"Dad!" called Rose Niotreizé from her tower room. "Dad!" she cried. There was no answer. There never was. Her father preferred to be alone a lot. She started stomping down the ramp that led to the rest of the house, not bothering to grab the iron railings that were supposed to protect her. On her way down she bumped into her mother, who was carrying a fresh basket of good smelling laundry up to her room. She teetered, but managed to keep all of the clothes in the basket. Her mother sighed. "Sorry, mom," said Rose in her silvery voice. "Have you seen-"
"Your father? Probably in his room, I suppose. Planning the next move." Stella's voice was cool, smooth.
"Again?!" Rose exclaimed, as her hand reached out supernaturally quick to catch a piece of her underwear that was sneaking off the ramp. "Where to this time?!"
"I don't know," replied her mother.
"Then I'll go find out."
"No, wait, Rose-Hmph." Rose was already marching through her sister's room, whom payed no attention to her, as always, and her parent's, where her three year old brother Angelo put down her dad's very old toy truck and held out his arms to her.
"Not now, Angelo," she said, and she watched his face fall with recognition. He was very smart, even now. She climbed down the flying house's ladder. She didn't bother going down the hall, she climbed outside, walked the hall's length, then climbed into her father's private quarters. "Hi, Dad," she greeted him. Her father was not surprised to hear her. He was never surprised.
" Hello, Rose," he said, in his accent like liquid chocolate.
"Whatcha doin'?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm doing."
"Where to?"
"New Jersey. I have told you about Ottawa, that quaint, quite little town, have I not?"
"Yes, only about a million times."
"Actually only ten." Rose smacked her palm to her forehead.
"Why do you have to be so literal all the time?"
"Vampires, the ones like I, who have been centuries in only darkness, are literal, Rose. It is normal."
Sigh. "Not to the humans, Dad."
"Mmmm, yes, I know, the humans."
"They're why we're leaving, isn't it?"
"Not exactly, no." Rose knew the answer in his head. Its you, we are worried about you with the humans. That is why we must move so often. Sometimes she thought they regretted having her...
"I see."
"Mmmm. Now," he said, flipping a switch to his right. All ladders and ramps outdoors locked down. "We are leaving. Make sure everything is secure. Tell your mother and sister. And don't forget your brother!" he called after her as she opened the door behind her and walked down the darkened hallway with the flickering old candelabras.
"Why me?" she grumbled. "I won't!" she called over her shoulder. Her father sighed. He turned back to the wheel of the house, closing the door behind her. Rose called to her mother in the living room. "We're leaving," she said. Her mother nodded to her. "Secure everything." Her brother crawled down the ladder. She swung him up, then passed him to her with a solemn look. Her eyes showed that she understood. Then she rushed off to the dining room. Rose stomped up the ladders. "Melissa!" she called. Her sister's head peered out the door. "We're leaving!"
"Got it!" she called back. Okay, Rose thought. Then she sat back on her ramp and watched the oceanic scenery flash by. Bye bye, Florida, she thought.
Adam pressed the button on the wheel. The flying house slowed, and with it, the blurred scenery, and then it all stopped, exactly in the spot he wanted. "Adam," said a soft voice. He turned. His eyes were confused, and seeing his wife did not clear them.
"We should not have come," he said. "I have a bad feeling about here." His confusion entered her eyes. It was dark by now, and they both noticed at the same time. They also noticed the deep black raven sitting on the windowsill. "Shoo," Adam said, and waved his arm, but the raven stood solidly. And it shook Stella. The deep, dark, penetrating eyes looked familiar... badly.
"We'd better get to bed."
While Melissa, Stella, and Angelo were asleep, Rose summoned her father with her mind. Let's go, she said. Agreed, he replied. They crept from their rooms, Rose jumping off of the ramp softly, catlike. They glanced at each other, then crept into the nearby forest. They hid behind the tall pines. Rose was in one in a second. Then she leapt quickly onto an innocent rabbit, and ended its suffering quickly, stabbing her fangs into the large vein in the neck. She extracted the blood quickly, too, eyes alight with a power. Her father had left her for his own hunting. She wiped the blood off of her lips with the back of her hand, and thought that the rabbit was surely enough to sustain her. She sighed in pleasure. Then she dropped the body and ran out to the edge of the forest. He was just arriving. They ran back to the house just as dawn struck.
Rose dabbed the last small traces of rabbit blood off of her beautiful features. Her hair was perfect. Her breath was always sweet. The last hints of bloodlust in her violet eyes were fading. Her clothes were impeccable. She was normal. She grabbed her school bag out of the bathroom corner and walked off to the high school. She didn't take the winding road. It was too slow. She was already late, as always. Her parents didn't know if it was because she had to clean up so perfectly or if it was just her. They were leaning towards just her. So instead she cut across the town to see it. She kicked the dirt, and passed a large restaurant, an apartment, the doctor's office her family was to visit the next day after school (her father was crazy about good health and protection for an unknown reason), a park and a house and then she was crossing the road. She didn't look up, not ever. She could sense everything. No cars came, everyone was at school. But if there was, Rose would have stopped it with the Powers. They were usually dazed by stopping so fast. She walked the short and thin sidewalk, then opened the door. She turned right into the office so fast, and the elderly lady at the desk looked startled. Rose slowly approached her. "Hello," she said softly, as not to frighten her. Then the woman seemed to snap back into reality.
"Name, dear?"
"Rose Ne-oh-trey-z." They went through the spelling of it (Niotreizé), then there was the clacking of fingers on keyboard keys. She turned the counsel at her and pointed at her picture.
"This you, dearie?" she asked, and ran her finger down her fake birth date, age, grade level, hair color, eye color, skin color and such.
"Yes, ma'am." The woman went through a small stack of papers to her right, then, nearing the end, pulled out a folded schedule.
"Here you go, sweetie."
"Thank you."
She entered the classroom a few moments later. All conversation stopped. Some boys whistled. She felt all life forms, one brighter than most... then it disappeared. One boy was looking out the window, embarrassed. She tugged at his thoughts. They didn't come. She was frustrated, not realizing what was happening until someone propelled her to a desk in the front row. The front row was empty but for a boy to her left and a girl to her right. Each were a few desks down. The boys were on the left behind her and the girls on the right. She heard whispers. Then she focused on what the teacher was talking about. He was speaking about the first French settlers. That was when her father was born. The boy and girl next to her, Adam and Ellis, were asking and answering questions a lot. The others stared at her. She hurriedly flipped her book open to Page Seven. She started to try to read to catch up to them. The first French settlers came across the sea in the.... force. Rose realized that she was centering on that force again. He was perfect. Almost like a vampire. His body... she wouldn't go there. He had fluffy blond hair, and a nice tan, she didn't know if it was fake or not. She was going for real. His eyes were a pure blue...so pure...
"Rose? Rose Niotreizé?" Rose snapped her head around. "I wanted to introduce you to the class. I just wanted to finish talking about the arrival of the French first. So Rose, why don’t you come up to the front of the room?" Rose was dazed. Suddenly she snapped back to life.
"Sure, Mr. Kufnu." Rose stood and went to the center of the room.
"Class, this is Miss. Rose Niotreizé. She just moved here from Florida. Now Rose, do you know when the first French settlers got here was?"
"1608." Rose answered automatically. Her father had told her about that exactly...fifty times. It felt odd to be so literal. So...vampire. She heard a voice.
"Thank you so much, Rose! See, she was listening, even though she just arrived. Or she just reads a lot! Huh! You can take a seat now, Rose. I want you all to read from pages eight to seventeen. If you didn't finish seven, do that also. Do not read any more!" Rose had taken her seat as Mr. Kufnu glared at Adam, Ellis and some other students. Mostly girls. "If you don't finish it here, do it for homework! Also do notes on those pages! Only a few! Please." Most students were either gazing off or already reading. Even Adam and Ellis. "Or else..." He finished. Or else what, Rose thought. You'll, what, harm me? Rose laughed softly to herself. Then she quickly turned to the sharp presence behind her. It was the boy.
"Did you find the page alright?" he asked softly. "It seemed that you just knew the dates off of the top of your head."
"I've got it, thanks," she responded softly, staring straight up into those big blue eyes...
"No, really, let me at least open your book for you..." He stared into her violet eyes, and the world around them wasn't there. No students, no teacher, no school, no parents. Nothing. All time stopped. If only this moment could last forever...it felt eternal just to be near him. He was so, so close to her now... he slowly reached across her, to the book she had shut unconsciously when he had come up to her. She was glad she had done it now, as he touched her... his skin was burning hot!! But he seemed fine... she jumped, startled. Then, oh no, he felt how freezing she was and he jumped, too! But... he regained control?! What!? His arm brushed her lightly, and he flipped her open to page eight quickly. "Have you read seven yet? I don’t want to put you on the wrong page..."
"No," she said softly, barely able to hold in the feelings of surprise, joy, and...something else? Love? No. No. No. That's not it, I'm wrong. I'm so, so, sickeningly wrong... It was an automatic no, of course, she didn't know what she was saying. So many nos... but she hadn't read seven yet. "No" she said more steadily.
"Okay," he said, flipping her back a page. "Goodbye..." Goodbye? No! Is what she wanted to shout, but she didn't. She couldn't.
"Goodbye..." she trailed off as he walked slowly away. The bell rung. They both jumped. They felt in a trance. She slid out of her seat and walked out into a crowd.
He stared at her in the crowd, trying to crane his tall head, but couldn't see her. Rose was in such total shock that she flew out of the room, not even trying to keep human pace.
Rose walked right on to French class. Her father had forced her to take it, but she didn't want to. It was just going to be annoying.. She walked into the classroom to a stern, no-nonsense man. He steered around her, as she didn't bother to look up, but she did it without the powers. Hmmm. How did he move so fast? Never mind. She'd think about it later, it wasn't like a vampire to forget. Her hair swung around her face as she quickly walked to the last desk in the back row corner. Here she sat down. As the other students filed in, she stared at them through the dark screen. No, no, no, no, and no... When the bell finally rung, he wasn't there. She realized that she didn't even know his name. She turned to the girl beside her. "Hello," she whispered as the teacher started talking. She pushed back her hair.
"Oh, hello!" said the girl brightly. She recognized Ellis as she came out of her trance. The teacher glared at them.
"Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh shhhhh" she said. Ellis was silenced. Her father would KILL her if he found out that she was talking in class. And this was just the type of teacher to report it. "Remember that boy that came up to me in History? What was his name, do you know?" Ellis's eyes widened like a startled fawn's, and she did seem to be. Then she regained control.
"Oh. His name is David Kinesse." She was disappointed that she just asked about him. I must be a topic of gossip, she thought. She felt sorry for her, but not a lot. Then she heard the door creaking slowly open... it is! There was the so-called David Kinesse! And he. was. late. Wow. There was no one else at the table but Ellis and her, she realized, they must be frightened of me and they sent poor, manipulated Ellis to get the scoop. Huh. Certain boys that probably weren't in her first hour were still staring at her. Girls to her left, classily dressed, were trying to giggle inconspicuously at her. Probably the gossipers that sent Ellis to sit with her. Other girls, the poor type, were swooning at something. Then she remembered David. She turned her head sharply to the door. David was being followed by a large group of probably bad boys, and girls, and just then Rose realized that David was maybe her type... nope. He stood tall in front of the teacher, and he was taller than him by just a few inches, and the teacher looked startled. But why? She remembered how he had quickly moved around her without the Powers, and wondered. Hmmm... David was now explaining, with resistance, that he was talking to Mr. Kufnu about how he could buy the History book and such. It surely was true. He eagerly held out a green pass slip, and the teacher glared at it, then waved him off. The girls sat at an empty table and the boys sat at another, motioning David over. But David looked around and frowned, deeper and deeper. Then he saw her, and grinned. The boys started to follow him, but he waved them quickly away. He sat down across from her because Ellis had taken the seat next to her.
"Hey," he said gingerly, softly. Like he didn't want to startle her.
"Hey," she responded in a whisper. Then they were very quiet because the teacher was talking.
"Hello students. I am Mr. Vern Denator. Only Professor Denator to you students, though," he said. “So as I was saying, I will be teaching French class. He was staring at her, she felt it. And he didn't bother to look away when she glanced at him. Oh crap. He better not like her, but... maybe she wanted him to... The teacher was talking again. "...and so, our first lesson is... DAVID KINESSE! TURN TOWARDS ME! NOW!" David jumped at his name and quickly turned around, adding a:
"Yes, Professor Denator!" at the end. When the teacher glanced away from him, David quickly turned his head and sheepishly smiled at her. She gave him a light, prodding smile back.
"See me after class, Mr. Kinesse," came the light, humoring voice from the front of the room.
"Shit," David muttered under his breath to her, quickly. Then he spun around. "Yes, Mr. Denator." Rose giggled under her breath also, and he apparently heard her, because his cheeks went up a little from what she could see at the back of his head.
"I'm sure you would like to join him, Miss. Niotreizé?" Now Rose was the one who wanted to cuss. All eyes turned from both David and her and glances at the teacher to just her and the teacher glances. They bore into her face.
"No sir." Rose responded with as much dignity she could muster.
"Alright then," he responded, turning back to the class. All eyes went to him now, thank God. "So as I was saying, our first lesson is about France’s history.”
"Awwwwwwwwwwww, no!" was the resounding response.
"Yes! There will be no more of that. So, since we already wasted 20 minutes of our class time," with a glance full of hatred at David, which he shrunk back from, " I will be passing out papers today. You will be getting my syllabus, which you must return to me on the bell, tomorrow, signed by your parent, and I will ask them about it at conferences," another glance at David, flickering to her and then the group, " and then a black notebook, so do not try to replace it. Also a packet, and DO NOT draw on it except to write your name. Here you go, Rose and David, since you caused so much commotion earlier, please pass these out. Only pass them out, nothing else." Rose rose fluently as David got up, clumsy in comparison. A small part of Rose's mind noted that it was just like this guy to give out the most depressing color in the world on all of his notebooks, strictly uniform, what with his slicked pure black hair and eyes like a storm cloud... with a hint of red... hmmm... she wondered... she had seen someone like that before... not that there was anything wrong with black, though she liked violet, or maybe blue, more.... she took the notebooks from the teacher as David took the syllabus and packets. Then she absentmindedly passed them out quickly. She flew back to her seat with one notebook, if she forgot one for herself she would look really dumb. She sat down and looked over the syllabus. "...the notebook is simply for recreational purposes. I want you students to keep a journal. About anything, at it will not be looked over," Rose had never even been allowed to keep any piece of writing about her life or her days as a whole. So she couldn't now. David, trying to mimic her fluency, and doing a pretty good job of it, sat down across from her with his own.
She had no interest in this,, and she pulled over the packet. She realized others were doing the same. The packet was mostly composed of images, as the syllabus says, showing the French flag and other French monuments. There was also a lot of small and large text in boxes. BBRRRIIINNNGG!!! BBRRRIIINNNGG!!! Rose jumped at the bell and grabbed her History book and notebooks from the desk, and tucked the packet into a violet folder, the syllabus into another. She gathered all of the things up and then, as David opened his mouth to speak and started to stand up, she turned with a flourish and fly of her hair and sped out of the room, dodging desks as she went.
David held his hand out to where she had been for a few seconds, then dropped it. As the last of the students filed out, Mr. Denator strode over to the door and shut it quickly. Then he quickly locked it with his key. He also pulled the blinds. Huh, that's strange. Why would he lock it just to yell at me? David thought. Then he quickly strode over to David, whom was drumming his fingers on his desk. "David Sepaicl Kinesse, you listen to ME!" he shouted, grabbing David roughly and unexpectedly up in a grip by his collar, "you stay away from her, you understand, boy? Because by God you better."
"Y-y-yes, s-s-sir," replied David. "I will stay away from her." He said more firmly. David knew that he was making a promise that he could not keep. He could not explain why he was so drawn to this new girl. He didn't even know her name!
"Go" said the teacher, turning around and slicking his hair back. He hunched. "I said go!" He pointed at the door, spinning around. His eyes unmistakably had a bloodshot look to them, and his face was wild. Strands of his combed-back black hair were hanging down over his face. David took his things and sped out of the room as fat as he could possibly go. The teacher was left staring off at him, struck for reasons unknown.
Well that was weird, thought David, King of Ottawa, New Jersey. He didn't talk about disrupting him during class or not paying attention at all, he had only talked about the girl. David was late for class, as usual. Denator hadn't even given him a slip. He hoped that she was in his next class, Social Studies. But how could he be so lucky? He was also surprised that his group didn't wait for him as usual outside. Maybe they were mad that he had sat by her. Most likely. And maybe, just maybe, Denator was something to the girl. He'd have to ask her, if he could get enough courage. He might not even get an answer. But she seemed to like him in both hours. That smile...her voice... He shouldn't think that, a girl like her probably has a boyfriend! It did not seem like that though. He finally made it to Mrs. Mnickle’s class. Now he had to focus on being himself. "Hello, Mrs. Mnickle..."
That David... Rose would cuss out loud if he even did an attempt to flirt with her again. If he was in this class, Rose would not know what to do. Maybe shoot herself. Thank God he wasn't. Rose waited until the class was 30 minutes in to be sure. That Denator could most likely yell, at David, for hours on end. She had also sat in the back to try to be hidden, and now, fuck, she had sat by a boy making goo-goo eyes at her. She looked pleadingly at the teacher. The teacher, Mrs. Frida, and her assistant, Mr. Taft were talking about the human body and this and that and…. God, what was it about that boy? Could it be love? It's stupid, it's silly, and its fake. God. "...and so class, we will be starting tomorrow," Here is my syllabus and..." Syllabus, syllabus. Man. "...it will tell all of our chemistry units. "Then we will go on with normal OHS’s curriculum for physics. we do these things first because we do not want our future to be full of uneducated people.” And blah blah blah.
The rest of the day passed like a blur. Rose did what she had been taught for two centuries. The only other significant things about Rose's day were written in the black notebook at Outdoor Time (you couldn't even call it recess because it was like 3 minutes, and anyways, it sounded elementary). She settled on the grass by a big oak tree. No one approached her, but people looked at her with curiosity. The gossipers snickered and started to approach her, but Ellis grabbed the leader's arm and pulled them back, watching her with a protective look. Then Rose furiously wrote in her notebook.
Rose stopped writing. Students were leaving the park. So Rose dusted herself off and got up. She gathered up her bag, which had her art kit and homework. She carefully tucked the notebook into it, smiling, and the gossipers came up behind her. Rose froze. "Whatcha doin', goth?" She had no idea just how gothic she was. "I said," she said, jolting her chin up violently by the tips of her fingers, "Whatcha doin', goth?" Rose slapped her hand off.
"Who are you, to think you have a right to touch me?" Rose said with the regality of the 1780s and 90s, The French Revolution. She was young then, but still. Her father.
"And who are you to ignore me, goth?" The need burned. She wanted to kill this girl. That rabbit must just not have been enough after all. No, she thought, I can't do this. Not again.
"Listen, just stay away from me, okay, bitch?" The girl stood back with her group, taken aback. Rose drifted away, angry. Then she passed a boy, a boy with fluffy golden hair. He stopped shooting baskets just as she stopped walking. She drew over to him. She couldn't stop. The girls back at the park stared. "Hey," she said, stealing the ball from his dribble with vampire grace and speed. He looked up at her quickly, then at his hands, and then back at her, surprised. Maybe she had done it a little too fast, even for a star athlete. His words to her were:
"Well, I didn't know that you played sports." Rose spun the ball on her finger and walked in a circle around him.
"I don't," she said simply.
"Well, ya should." She should be in seventh hour. But she wasn't.
"Doesn't matter much to me." Rose supplied.
"And what does?" Rose whirled on him and tipped his chin up with her fingers. She rolled the ball away smoothly. She wanted to say you, but her reply was:
"I don't know anymore." Nothing did now but him. Not her reputation, nor her family, nor the rules. Nothing but wanting him, but needing him. Nothing but getting him. Maybe even drinking him. No other boy in her long lifetime had been able to resist her, a vampire. This was like the need, it almost burned just as strong. Then she grabbed her bag and sped off. "I should be going," she said hastily under her breath. He smelled good. Too good. She had to get out of here. The rabbit wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. And it was him. Not again. Not again. Never, never again. She was hyperventilating, and her vision was red around the edges.
"Hey! How about you come over sometime!" It was not a question. He said something else probably valuable to know, but Rose was already halfway down the walk with her speed.
"Perhaps!" She called over her shoulder in a clipped tone. The she went inside the canvas that was supposed to be an art tent/classroom.
It was all very spread out. She was okay now, but she shouldn't be. She shouldn't be. No human should be like that, but he was. Her thoughts moved to a women that looked young, maybe in her mid-twenties, had dark blue hair with lighter tips. It was cut short, and one side was shaved. It flopped when she moved, and some of it was curled or braided. She wore a very long and painted-on smock, and below her shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. She had tight jeans that looked okay, she guessed, and her shirt was striped. Okay.... She had a nose piercing and red sneakers. Rose guessed that she was M(r?)s. Kayt the art teacher, since she was yelling loudly and ordering people to move huge canvases from a wall to aisles of wooden easels, then paint jars from one wall and showing people how to open them. Everything was very neat and looked new. This was OHS’s first year of art, or was it that they had gotten a new teacher? No one seemed to know her. Cool. "No, no Gabriela, open it like this. Yeah, yeah, there you go. No, no, Dantèoeo, you only need one canvas and go to an easel, no, it doesn't matter where you go, no. Paintbrushes are by the paints, adjoining wall, Violatia. Yes, yes, there. OKAY, EVERYBODY, STOP!" Everybody turned and stared at her with shocked looks. A boy dropped his canvas. An easel collapsed. A girl dropped her paint pot. It shattered red. Rose almost drooled. It got on the girl's sneakers. "Aw, Alia'ya, look what you did now." Ms. Kayt said, stooping to sop up the unused, new paint with her smock. Someone produced a rag, which received a breathless thank you. Then she rose. "I'm sorry, everyone. But all you do in this class today is find an easel, in an aisle," Ha, " and grab a canvas from over there," pointing, " and paints behind me, " pointed, " and a brush here," pointed. "You can paint whatever you want. That's how it is, every day. Tomorrow will be clays. Go!" She waved her hands around, then sat in a corner and sighed, head drooping, as the questions piled up.
"Rose! Roo-oose!" Called a familiar voice. Rose turned to see Ellis standing by two easels in a shady corner. Perfect. They both had canvases, Rose saw, before she went to get some. Ellis came over and took her bag and put it over there, signifying that those easels were taken. Then they went together to the paint crowds. Rose found her way through easily, Ellis following close behind. "So," Ellis said, "Kinesse, really?" Rose took paints, yellow, blue, white, black, peach, they had all of the colors that she mindlessly grabbed and, for some reason, needed.
"What? No!" Rose said going back, but she blushed as Ellis grabbed purple and followed her out to the easels. They dropped the paints. She was reminding Rose of a golden retriever dog now.
"Yes," Ellis said as she grabbed a medium and fine paintbrush. They went back.
"What proof do you have, though?" Rose said, giving up on denial. She popped the lids easily, and took one from Ellis as she struggled. No one payed attention to them but for side-eyed glances. Rose dipped her brush into the black as she also did the water, and used the thin one. Then, on her blank canvas, swiped. Swipe, swipe. Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe swipe. Then she washed it out, not looking at what she had done. She was regal at it, she had done it forever. Even as a young vampire girl in preschool.
"I saw you go to him at the courts. You didn't have to do that. I saw you play with him. I saw you touch him. Rose, do you think I'm stupid?" Rose picked up the thick brush, and then dipped it in water and the peach. Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. Round it out. Rose stopped, startled. There had been no witnesses. She had used her senses. But maybe she had let down her guard, though. "I could tell that you want to kiss him. You could have, you know." Ellis had been using black, then white, then black again, in a curvier and longer but same looking shape as whatever she was painting.
"You don't know that." Rose averted her eyes to other parts of the tent. It was chatty, and almost no one was running about anymore. She rinsed the brush. Mrs. Kayt was yelling about using empty paint jars as water dishes. They were tiny enough. She was doing that, she realized. She used the same brush in the yellow, but something about it seemed wrong. Dull. Humph. She took a dab and mixed it with a small amount of light brown from someone else's stand. It was good enough, so she did it again: swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, turn, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe.
"I do." Rose turned, and Ellis was staring at her. Giving her the hole-boring stare. Rose stared at the floor, half-turning back. She didn't bother asking how, Ellis was the third most mysterious person she'd ever know, next to her dad and now David. She'd know many people, but never, never one that's mind that she couldn't read besides David's. She had just realized this.
"So what do you know about him?" Rose said, resuming painting. She didn't look up, but took a thin black now, and drew four curved lines high up. She took the blue, and it felt wrong. But she used it anyways, drawing deep, deep circles. Ellis used the same motions, but frowning as she used purple, then white, and they both grabbed the pot at the same time, Ellis consumed in thought and Rose just waiting tersely for an answer. They both burst out laughing and dipped their brushes at the same time, then painted oval, thin but filled ovals.
"Um, well, I have a small list of thing that I know about him now. It may be small, sort of, I really never paid any attention to him." Right. Rose took someone's light red, and drew a thin, curved line. Then used the black after she rinsed her brush. She had that almost-done feeling. Ellis also did the same motions, but used peach instead of red.
"Go on." Rose said.
"Okay, um, well..."
"Go on already." Rose glanced and glared, but when Ellis turned also and sheepishly looked up, she grinned. "It's okay, just say it." Ellis looked and smiled a little.
"Okay, so he moved here when he was just a newborn. He lives with his aunt, Emily, his mother died in childbirth. I think before they lived in California, a small, polluted, actually very polluted, area off of Los Angeles. Mrs. Frick lived there for two years, she said that it rained twice. Ask her about it if you want, she loves talking about it, already twice this year. She also hinted that kids are stupid there. Also, I don’t know how he can be so absolutely gorgeous," Rose gave her such a frightening glare, Ellis looked white and coughed. "To go on," Rose relaxed, "she lives in an apartment in the restaurant that she owns in Utah. He misses her a lot. He lives in a small house off the school by the courts. He earns money by playing major league baseball already, but sometimes helps her for no cost. He gets major money. You have to see him to get it, he catches great and throws, I guess, okay. His grades have never dropped below an A-. He never shows off or picks on anyone. He has all that entourage, but he stays to himself and has no real friends. You're the closest anyone's been to him in months. He eats a fine lunch, and always has nice clothes. He doesn't like any girls, but they've tried. But not me," she added hastily, "And you may be an exception. And he never gets hurt. Not even a scrape or a paper cut. And he never coughs, or burps, or anything normal. And he never sneezes or pants. He always go to the doctor and dentist over the weekends, and never had braces or even a cavity. He never misses school, so he's never sick, and always goes to church," her voice increased speed. "And, that’s all." Her voice slowed, then stopped. She panted.
"Good, thanks. But I don't love him. You have absolutely no good proof." Rose said. It sounded like a vampire to her, but it couldn't be. It couldn't. She realized that after she had finished a whole lot of swiping dark green paint near the bottom, she had flipped the canvas and stolen someone's pencil to make a bullet-point list. She flipped it, horror-struck.
"That's my proof."
She had painted David.
His crooked smile to his golden fluffball of hair to the pure, pure blue eyes and dark green tee, Rose had used her many talents to make a perfect David portrait. Rose's vision reddened. It was a deep red now, and she glanced around wildly. No. Not here, not now. She was surrounded by people, and Ellis was closest to her. She smelled good, very good, almost as good as David. Rose had to leave. Her throat burned dry. She grabbed her bag, and then the portrait, and ducked out of the tent, vampire-speeding to the house. On the way out, she saw Ellis's canvas.
It was an incredible replica of her.
Rose had left very quickly, Ellis thought. She was walking home with her portrait, and she passed a fluffy blond head. The hottie himself, David. "Ellis! Get over here! I need info, now!"
"I gotcha David." Ellis crossed over to the courts. "So what on?" She asked.
"Um, Rose." He looked sheepish, cutely moving his toes and staring at them. His face was red, and he looked up, a smile blossoming over his face.
"Let me think for a second." Ellis did not think that his demand was odd at all. He did not tell her to take her time, or take a few hoops. "Well, I heard that she got here last night from Florida, and on my morning walk today, I saw her house and parents. She is neighboring your aunt, by the forest. The house wasn't there before, but that can't be, there was no construction site, and it looks very old. Here, let me write this down" Ellis said. She went to get a notebook, but David was already writing in one.
Ellis handed the notebook to David. "That's it" she said. David added a few more things in his own script.
Then Ellis sped off.
She had left behind a flipped canvas. David took it and the notebook and left, leaving the basketball rolling away.
Rose never slowed until she got to the woods. At the edge, she dropped her things, and ran. After hunting, she avoided her parents, as she had the...canvas. She had been surprised that she had not been discovered. She leapt up her slide exit agilely. Once in, she looked around, and then, because it was late day and no one was around, she tore her nails into the steel wall. It screeched loudly. After cutting a perfect canvas-sized hole, she slipped the canvas into it. She left, locking the door, and then went into her sister's room. "Melissa!" She called.
"Yy-ee-ss?!" Came from somewhere unseen.
"The slide is letting too much light into my room! May I have your window curtains please?"
"Speaking of that, sister, Dad says that we all must get new curtains. The humans are watching," Melissa said, walking in. "So I have these new dark one's for you, and there are some for your slide and walk, and a cover for your ramp, and a spare." Rose did not protest, she needed these. She said thanks as she took the velvety dark purple curtains large and long and small and short. Then she put them all on one arm and on her ramp put up the four corner poles and hung the curtain, tucking the bottom in and wrapping it. Then she put it on the tower door and slide and took the extra, then hooked it on a rod that she now cut from the door that she had cut and made holders by stabbing one into the wall and making a hole in the other to hook it on to hold the canvas, the rod on top. It draped over the canvas almost perfectly. That took up the extra steel. Rose hung her Do Not Disturb Me sign, then laid back in the dark as twilight fell, staring at the portrait, trying to figure him out. She just couldn't. She got an idea as night fell and people went asleep, although her father had tried to contact her with his mind, she was full, or so she told him, at least that was truth. She had decided to go spy on David. She was solid in her decision. Then maybe, better yet, after fifteen minutes go inside. She had been invited, hadn't she? She knew where he lived, so why not, right? She peeked out of her curtain, covered the painting, and then slid down the slide as quietly as possible. Then, all senses aware, snuck off into the falling darkness. However, she did forget about her father.
Rose had said that she was full, Adam thought. Must have been an almost-accident at school, and she had gone hunting afterward. But then why am I so uneasy? I have to go check on Rose. I must go check on Rose.
Rose slipped behind a tree as a jogging couple passed, eyeing her. She peered back at the not-so-far-away house. Then she snuck across the courts to David's house. She peered inside. There he sat, staring at something on his wall. But what? A painting? Yes, yes, a painting...
Adam marched through the house, rattling it. He already somehow knew her activities. Stella started from her laundry, almost dropping the basket onto the living room floor, but quickly looked away, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. She tried to close her mouth with her hands, setting down the basket. With her pink curtains, Melissa did the same. They looked at each other when he was gone, but just looked back at where he had been. Angelo dropped a toy truck in his parent's bedroom and just stared. Adam managed a smile for him, and slowed and quieted his steps, but then just looked worried and sped up. His footsteps clanged on the ramp, waking people in New York. He drew back the curtains. He saw no Rose, and had an all-outrageous fit, clanging the walls and growling loudly. Lights blinked on.
At Rose's spot, David jumped. But why? She had been studying him for almost forty-five minutes now, and just could not understand. He seemed so intent. She saw something black steering towards her. Her father, oh, no! "Shit" Rose muttered. She backed away from the house just in time for a gigantic force to hit her from behind. It dragged her across the Earth, leaving muddy ruts in the baseball field and kicking it up over them. Then it stopped. Shit, shit, oh oh oh, shit.
"Do you know," he growled, "what you are risking?" He blocked her airways with his arm as she struggled to get up.
" Yes," she said, "Yes, dad."
"Do not even try it again, do you hear me? Don't," he added, running out of steam. "Now, come on," he said, gripping her by the elbow and lifting her up with him.
David heard the loud boom like steel on steel bricks. He dashed to the window just in time to see two things that were shaped like humans driving ruts into the baseball field, kicking up mud over themselves. He heard muted yelling. Then one muscular form lifted up the slighter one on the ground by the elbow. They passed his house, and he saw shining black hair and a flash of violet eyes. He recognized her even with mud on and a quickly yanked around head. Rose Niotreizé. And then a long, red glare by a cold, cold man. The father.
The notebook, David thought. Must. Get. Notebook. He scrambled for the notebook on the nightstand, and while gazing at the picture of her, wrote more:
So she is usually doing activities at night, she is... indestructible, she never ages, she works wonders/has superpowers, and is very mysterious and beautiful. What is she? David had a feeling he knew.
Rose went to school the next day. She had a feeling that David knew, but went anyways. She was late because she hunted big that morning, but it was worth it. Her parents were quiet about last night's incident. Mr. Kufnu marked her tardy with a sigh and she sat down. David was trying not to eye her, she felt it, for she was very aware. Then she remembered, shit, she hadn't done her homework. As Kufnu was talking, the so far quiet Ellis scooted over to her and ripped notes for pages 7-17 (as titled) out of her notebook. Rose was about to refuse, then looked over and saw that Ellis had other also handwritten copies. Rose was not paying attention, but then glanced down and saw the highlights. Ellis's didn't have that. But she had scooted away.
Rose could not put the pieces together. Why Ellis cared, or why her father was always angry and mad and scared. But why? Suddenly she had a vision, the classroom was gone. She saw a young woman with blonde hair, a human. She saw a vampire, dark haired and menacing, coming towards her. In the corner was a little boy, about two years old. He was a vampire, she could tell by the dark hair. The young human woman held a small, dark haired newborn vampire, who struggled in her arms as she concealed the child. The vampire walked towards the woman, ripped the child from her arms, and sucked her blood in front of the two year old son. The son screamed, struggled for his mother but was thrown back. The father of the two boys looked up with a gleam in his red eyes, his mouth covered in the woman he raped’s blood. She startled back to present day. Why?! Because her father was that little two year old boy, conceived by a rapist and no one knew or cared, his mother must've loved him so even though she didn't want him, and then the father came back just in time to give him a brother, staying with them until the other son was born and then killing his mother? She saw it all now. Or most of it. She just needed to know what he was scared and mad at still? And he had never said if his parents were vampires. And if he had a brother, where was the younger brother now?
As Ellis went to follow Rose, she was pulled back by a surprisingly strong arm. Then she was led by a figure shrouded in shadows down the corridor. In an alcove by the back of the school there was a boarded up door. It was empty here, and the custodians clearly did not visit here. The figure revealed itself to her. It was David in the weak sunlight from the doors.
"David!" Ellis gasped as he put a strong hand over her mouth.
"Shhhhhhh," he said. "Yes, it's me. And I've figured out Rose's mystery."
In French, Ellis nor David had showed up yet. Great. And as Rose came in, all time had seemed to slow as she walked past Denator. His mouth had slowly dropped, eyes suddenly wider. Then he sped out of the room. Vampire speed. Rose had been contemplating him all hour. David's group was eyeing her, as was Ellis's gossipers. But she did not care. As he turned, looking startled, she saw his eyes. His eyes were storm-cloud gray, with a hint of red. She'd know them anywhere... Rose shot up, apparently going up to him and asking to use the restroom. He grudgingly obliged. His hair was black. The planes of his face were the same. The planes of his body were the same. She shot out, vampire speed, of the room. That one day that he had steered around her as she was vampire speeding with no apparent exertion. Her father's brother. She went to leave the back of the building more inconspicuously. But she was stopped with strong arms. "Let me go, you evil monster!" She screamed.
"Whoa, whoa, hey now, let's not get testy here."
"David?"
"Now what made you so frightened. You, a vampire?"
"David! David..."
"Yes, I know, Rose. And so does Ellis."
"Oh, nooooooo" Rose moaned.
"Oh yes. Where were you going, and what were you running from?"
"Denator," she gasped, "my father's...brother."
"Hmmm. Now that's a problem, isn't it?"
"Oh, David." She sank in his arms.
“Not here, Rose. Ellis is here,” Rose glanced sharply at the sheepish Ellis, "And WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!" David's voice rose, for Denator walked sharply round the corner. His dress shoes clacked loudly, and he slicked back a single strand of his jet-black hair.
"Now get up kiddies, and back to class," he said cheerfully with menace. He gripped David by the elbow and tried to shake him from Rose, but he hardly moved. David glanced at Ellis, pleading. He dared not move and let go of Rose, and running would make him more vulnerable. So, as he did that glance, Denator followed it, and in a quick leap he grabbed Ellis up. "I could snap her neck now," he grunted, "unless you drop her and follow me. Now."
David dropped Rose. She slid away from him, and she pleaded at him, reaching. But he stood and went to Denator, defeated. But instead of going back to class, Denator pulled Ellis roughly towards the boarded-up alcove. He tore the boards off loudly, Ellis still in his arms. "You," he told Rose, "will stay in this bubble." He formed a sort of invisible mind-bubble around her, and he went through the door.
Inside it was a dusty old science lab. "You will rot here," Denator said. And he left, slowly nailing the boards back up. Then he shoved Ellis inside on the last one.
Rose was crying silently, letting the tears stream. Denator released the shield and grabbed her roughly. Then she was pinned on the floor. "I've been wanting this for some time now," he said. Then he shrugged off his black tuxedo jacket. He roughed up his hair, and his eyes flashed red. "Waiting, watching." He undid his red tie. The he started unbuttoning his shirt. Oh, God. No. No. He was going to rape her.
"Ah, hell, oh, God," she gasped involuntarily. In a way, he was beautiful. But he started to unbutton his pants and slide that and his shoes and socks off. Oh, Dad. Please help. She was unaware that she was sending a message. As he was pulling off his underwear, he got hit. She had heard the whooshing coming, but he had apparently...been too busy. Her hair swung in a slight breeze, and she knew that it was under control. She sat back and relaxed. Then, by the door, when both men were preoccupied with each other, the boards came off in David's hands.
"Rose!" He called, and scooped her up. She pushed him off with human strength, looking at her father. He nodded slightly. Meanwhile, the two men had backed against the wall, her father on top.
"Ver," her father growled. "I didn't think you'd come back." Ver?
"I do have a right to see my be-you-TI-FUL nieces," he responded. Denator had been caught off guard, pulling off his underwear, so they were halfway down his legs, restricting them, and making them more vulnerable because he was also almost all naked. Rose tried to avert her eyes. David was enjoying it, and Ellis was outside, full-out throwing up. Her father was repeatedly kneeing his legs, and Denator's knees looked about to give out. Growls echoed down the hall. Oh, no, the school?! He had him in a headlock with his hands, and as he struggled, gave him a few face punches. Hard. He was stunned for a second. Then he shook his head and got back, but it was too late. Her father had twisted his head back and just plunged his fangs down, not going the less-painful human/animal side variation. Right into the base of the neck. He screamed, a guttural scream, as his blood was drawn out by his own brother against his will. The screams quieted, then slowed, and then stopped altogether.
"Hello? Hello!" Called a voice that Rose recognized as Mr. Kufnu himself. He was two turns away, good. "Hell-oo!"
"Mr. Kufnu! Hi! It's Rose Niotreizé!" She ran as fast as she could to him, then soon stopped. "Hi!"
"Rose! You sure got here fast. What is all of that growling and screaming, please?"
"Oh...that's some wild dogs! Yeah, wild dogs. Yeah, wild dogs! I heard it on my way to the restroom from Mr. Denator's French class, and I heard the screaming and growling, so I went to check it out. They were fighting, but they are going OUTSIDE NOW. Yeah, OUTSIDE NOW," She looked around the corner, pleading to nothingness. Shrrrrpppp. Denator's head was most likely being torn off. A screech. A squeaking, so the body was being thrown across the floor. Then a loud banging. Inside the boarded door, then. Hushed voices. Boards clanking. A faint whooshing. Most too quiet for Kufnu's ears. "Heh, heh," she rubbed her bare arms. "So yeah, let's go see, now that they left, if you want to?"
"You shouldn't have checked or gotten us. We were worried. Very. All of us teachers. But I couldn't find Mr. Denator" Yeah, I'm sure you were, and by the way, we just killed your friend, Denator, Rose thought. They went there, but nothing was there. No blood, her father had sucked him clean and left, no more than that. David and Ellis? She didn't know. She was zoned out and only the back of her mind cared while Kufnu was there. Soon he said, "Well, okay," and left, Rose said she still had to go but would stay for a while. He took it as emotions. When he was well away, whistling, she took out the placed-on boards Kufnu had shook. She wanted to laugh at Denator, her torturer, her tormentor. David looked up from inside, and Rose started. He was with no one, sitting by Denator, hand in lap.
"What are you doing? Where's Ellis?" She asked accusingly, hand on hip.
"Hello to you too, I am so glad you're alive too, and your father is one scary fucking man."
"Answers?"
"Your scary as-all-fuck father just fucking left, and Ellis is outside barfing up her lunch and breakfast.
"One: That was some major fucks. Two: We gotta go back to class.”
"Simple enough."
"I'm baa-aaackk!" Ellis called. Coming in like a hurdler, she was like, "Rose? You came back, you silly vampire!" And gave her a big hug.
"Shhhhhhhhh, of course (she)(I) did," said Rose and David at the same time. They were all quite as she whispered:
"Sorry,"
"Your secret is safe with us," he said, as if reading her mind.
"Uh-huh," Ellis said, nodding, as Rose glanced at her. Rose's eyes relaxed.
She realized that she did want to kiss David, good. Bad. Then David took a body bag from the wooden cabinet and dripping sink. He put Denator's pieces inside, with Rose's help, and then put the stone-heavy bag into the cabinet again. He felt hard and grainy, thought Rose, so he must already be turning to stone and disintegrating, then. "No one will find him here until Ottawa runs out of money and the school gets knocked down," David said.
"What if they go through it?"
"In Ottawa? Ha. Okay, Ellis, let's go."
"I trust you wiped their memories, or better yet, tranced them before?" Ellis jumped into David's arms, both were surprised, and Rose was clearly caught off guard.
"Uh, no, dad, I didn't" Rose said, rubbing her crossed bare arms.
"Then I will, quickly." His eyes glowed red.
"Wait! Wait, I mean, uh, no dad, I will. I've got them down, and this boy has been a pain. The girl too. It's good practice..." She said.
"Okay then Rose," he crossed his arms. "You do it. But quickly." He didn't ask why they were here in the first place. Just teens being bad teens, he thought.
"Dad, you should go. To make sure that if we are found, then it doesn't look bad," she said.
"Oo-kay..." He looked wary, but jumped out of the window. Ellis tried to stop him, but he avoided the puke warily. "I see what you mean!" he called over his shoulder. Then, when Rose heard he was gone, cautioning them, she let out some power.
"Let's go," she finally said. She hadn't wiped their minds.
They did not get in trouble, so the rest of the day was uneventful. They didn't talk, but David glanced warily. Ellis looked excited, but did not directly look at her. They went to third hour, and were all marked tardy. David told Rose of his detention. Kufnu did not care, only to ask about Denator to them, rumors swarmed. His class was cancelled. All students were given a note packet from the last year. No one asked them anything, but whispered and stared.
Right after school, the whole family met up with Rose at the office. They walked up the steps inside. They were at their time. The doctor came to greet them and had Angelo cross a squiggly sight/balance bar, he did okay. Her father was not permitted now because of power use. He glared at Rose. They took Angelo's weight, and had him stand outside for a sight test. He had a brain growth block identification test with animals, and also with a choice of slides. They also checked his height. Then it was her turn, her father did not object for power. She crossed the bar, no hands easily, her height was the normal 5'9, she did the sight test okay, slides and blocks easily, and weight was 170 pounds exactly. They did the rest of her family, Melissa chatted with the doctor and did perfect, same for Stella. "Dad," she said.
"Yes Rose?" Impatiently.
"Since my teacher's tragic accident, his class was cancelled, and I must read this one note packet here," she waved.
"We'll stay Rose," he said.
"No, no, dad, I'll be awhile, it's, like, more than 30 pages."
"Okay Rose, if you insist." They were gone in a flash. It wasn't all lies, she did have something to do, but did have to read the packet. In the waiting room she did, as the lights dimmed. Her father talked in her mind, and checked when she did not answer. She didn't want to hunt, she wanted to read. She was interested, she was involved. Because it, too, was highlighted. But this time, at the bottom, a note:
Here's the just, sure saves you a lot of reading, Love, Ellis
Good to know, I guess, Rose thought at the end of her reading. She probed with her mind. Her father was out hunting. Good, he wouldn't probe or feel her doing what she was doing. The doctors were gone. She slipped into the Medical Records room, stacked with tall shelves of records and papers, she found the file under ”N”. She pulled out her father’s history record.
Vermont Denator and Adam Niotreizé
Wince.
A rapist man won a human woman in a gamble. He raped her when they got to his farmhouse. Since he was evil, a rarity, the black cells created a vampire offspring and turned himself into a vampire, The man left for three years. Adam Niotreizé was born a year later after the rape, he grew with his mother as a child and she loved him and cared for him well. When Adam was two, his father came home. He raped his mother again and stayed until she bore another son, Vermont Denator. The night Vermont was born, the father killed the mother in front of Adam. Vermont never knew his mother’s kindness but only his fathers cruel ways, and became evil himself.
How horrible, Rose thought. Now she understood why her father was so crazy and so mean. She carefully put back the folder and went outside. She had one destination, and blocked her mind, hard and painful. She had never tried before, but now it was important.
She was going to David's house.
Knock, knock, knock. Softly. She heard him faintly start, then relax as he opened the door a crack. "Rose!" He said. "Come in!"
"Shhhhh," she said, finger to her lips. Then she crept inside through the crack of light. He shut the door behind her.
"What are you doing-" She went to the bedroom, dragging her fingers across the comfortable bed, glancing quickly around.
"David, you have to trust me on this," silently, he stood very straight and still. "You already know that I love you. More than anything ever, even my cover."
"Wow, uh, that's great, uh..." His face was red and he was repeatedly combing back his hair with his fingers. Even fluffier. She spotted her picture on the plain, large and roomy living room wall, in the center. Either he commanded or asked Ellis, or it was a gift. "So, uh," he said.
"So, uh, I just need to know the important thing, that you like me the same. Truly." She looked so cute, fists together, body swaying slightly, arms swinging. Her expressions was that of a child's, so innocent. Then her large eyes turned flat to violet-red ice, and she stopped swaying. Her hands clenched to fists. "You. Don't?" He had been stalling, but it had only been a few seconds. "When you held me... it was FAKE?!" His expression turned soft and he stopped as Rose's eyes turned full red and crouched.
"Rose! Rose! Of course I do!" He said. She relaxed a little before leaping halfway.
"You...do?"
"Yes, of course, of course I do."
"Then why? Why did you stall?"
"Rose, Rose, I'm worried about you. About you getting caught."
"Oh. Okay." She relaxed completely. "Do you truly, totally, ultimately trust me?"
"Rose, I would give my life for you. So relax, vampire. And I trust you, or I wouldn't be here."
"Trust me. And tell me if I hurt you, okay. I'll stop." It was a promise that she couldn't keep.
"Okay, but wait, Rose-"
She slid her shirt off, more like whipped it sideways, over her head, flopping her long, dark, hair. Her eyes and face were glowing. Carefully keeping the mind block in place almost effortlessly.
"What the-" David started, but he took a sharp intake of breath at her. Her stomach planes were flat-muscled, she was so gorgeous, long, slim legs, curvy figure, and she spun happily to show him everything. Then she glared. He figured it out later, she could glare for awhile, meaner and meaner, David a stupid, helpless human under her. But soon he pulled his shirt off the same way, and quickly stumbled over his pants. He stood in them, a pool at his feet, but she kicked them across the room on her toes. Her strong legs flexed. "Were you on track-" he started, but she said
"Shhhh," putting a finger to her lips. "Vampire, remember?" She whispered.
"Oh, yes," he said. "Okay then." He had almost forgotten her perfections. He climbed on top of her.
"Are you ready?” she sighed
“I never will be, so yes,” he breathed against her, in her ears.
And it happened, and as it did, all her troubles and worries and the rest of her entire life faded away into him, she loved him and he loved her and that was all that mattered.
The next day she woke at dawn in his arms. "SHIT!" Her parents had totally noticed her missing by now. David did not wake. He said mmmmm. She did not want to wake this peaceful human, the man she loved, so she gently unwound his arms, and then got on her clothes vampire-speed. She ran to the bathroom to find a hairbrush, any type, she prayed. She found a tortoiseshell for his fluffs, odd that she automatically knew where the bathroom was. She had to search, and strewn some stuff, male hair products and razors, it was on the floor clanging, and she was hyperventilating. When she came, she had not thought of doing anything that long. She found some spray deodorant after wrenching through her hair, then throwing the clumps away. She sprayed herself all over a lot until the bottle was empty, threw it across the room, had it hit the tiling, made an excuse in her head if she got caught, smelled herself to make sure that she had masked David, and although it was still there it was all she could do. She also washed her hands. Then she ran, without leaving a note, carefully and slowly shutting the door because, although the can, he was still deeply sleeping. She remembered that he was busy, very busy, all night, and blushed. Running across the courts in the breaking dawn, vampire-speed, there was one thing that appeared on the horizon. Everybody else was asleep.
"RRRROOOOO-OOOOSSSEEEE!!!!" Oh, God. He was pissed. They met up, and he grabbed her by the forearms and shook her roughly. "What. Were. You. Doing!?" He growled and half-screamed.
"Dad, it's not what you think..."
"Oh yes it is," shit, "You were watching the blonde sleep again, weren't you?" Oh. Rose hung her head in fake shame.
"Yes, dad."
"And blocking your mind? That is so advanced. No. Last time I warned you. You need to control yourself. You're going to Stella's sister Mic'kauyla. For 6 months."
"But dad..." Panicked. She had never met this aunt, she was probably absolutely horrid. For a shapeshifter.
"And that's final. She lives in Utah. You will leave with me holding you vampire speed with nothing but clothes and curtains. Got it?"
"Yes, dad." She gave up on trying. It seemed for forever. She had no time to tell anyone, not David or even Ellis. And it was no use making noise, he was fast asleep, and anyways, either way he would try to rescue her and die. She hoped that Ellis would figure it out. She's smart. And she was still shielding her thoughts. He vampire-sped her to the house by the elbow, and she was forced to go with him. "Go to the doctor's each month, you hear me? Go." Rose did not protest when they reached the house. It rattled in his anger, and her mother, down in the kitchen, dropped a bowl of muffin batter all over her shoes and pants and apron. She hurriedly went to clean it up. Melissa slid down her pole, hearing the hard-tiled clang, and tried to help and sooth her mother, she had seen them a while away from atop her perch, so she knew. That left them almost home-free, but Angelo did his arm thing. Her father kicked him over the railing into Melissa's arms. He cried. Rose gasped. They marched to her room. Her father went to take down David's curtain, and... "NO! No, dad, I can pack from here, it's okay, it's fine, I've got it." Her dad looked suspicious, and went to pull it down again. She grabbed it and said, "Why don't you go and get my emergency suitcase from the basement? Heh, heh." He did, glancing back. When he was gone she took her few things, all black, purple, and blue clothes, and she tucked the David canvas inside the layers. It stretched them, but it looked hidden. Out of the corner of her eyes, Rose saw her map of the world by the slide. All of the places she wanted to go were marked off. "Utah, Utah," she muttered, fingers gliding. Then she found it. Right next to California. And she had unconsiously marked it off. I think before they lived in California, a small, polluted, actually very polluted, area off of Los Angeles. She lives in a house/restaurant in Utah. Ellis's voice rang in her head. "Oh, my God." She would go there then. What else to do? Her father was coming up the ladders loudly, lugging her suitcase. She quickly, vampire-speed, took down all of her curtains. She took David's portrait's, and hoped that no one would notice the huge, gaping hole in the wall. He got there.
"Here," he grunted, dropping it on her feet.
"Owww," she said, even though it really didn't hurt that much.
"Sorry," he grunted. He wasn't, it was obvious. "So now I must check your stuff, Miss. Mischievous." Uh oh.
"Uh, dad, how about school? I need to learn."
"You know this stuff already."
"No, I don't. Ottawa's different, Dad."
"How different?"
"Uh, just, it has different curriculum, Dad. Would I lie?"
"Yes, you would. Now what curriculum?" He leaned in her face, rank breath in all, and growled gruffly.
"It tells you chemistry. That is not offered by other schools."
"Oh, well, okay. Only science?"
"Yes, be sure to get it all!" He softened and leaned back, satisfyingly licked his lips with a darting tongue.
"I'll go."
"Please grab some art clay!"
"Sure, because I'm your errand man." She added,
"I also didn't finish Denator's papers..."
"I noticed." He was back soon, somehow, he must have seduced...Mrs. F! That old crab... Thank God she was away from that boy by her. He gave her a note and activity packet. He then said, "Hurry up, we have to go now," before your mother protests. She finished the thought. Yes, her mother was very protective of her. And the others, she thought. "Now...start...packing," he growled. She carefully tucked the clothes into the flopped-open suitcase at her feet, good, the canvas fit. Just right. She tucked in the curtains and notes. When she zipped it up, she was pulled up roughly by the arm, suitcase in hand. She reached around for something, anything but her father, but her other arm was grabbed and put by the other one on the suitcase handle. Then they jumped down the slide, her being pulled by her father and gravity. He took all of the impact on his perfect feet at a perfect stop, and then glanced around before going vampire-speed to the east. The wonderful world blurred around her, almost blue like the Millennium Falcon's hyperspace. With stars. It was still day when she reached a roadside shack with a wire fence around it.
"Heh, heh. Good old Aunt Mic'kauyla," her father said. From the picture on the sign, Mic'kayula had aged while her mother had not. Funny. "Well," her father hesitated at the ramshackle door and softly knocked. The door opened a crack immediately, creaking.
"Well, whaddaya want?"
"Mic'kayula, it's Adam. My...daughter..." He said through his teeth, as if embarrassed by her. As usual, she knew it. "Is advanced. Yes. Well, advanced."
"How advanced? And which one?" Finally the head of her aunt peered out. The blue-green eyes were searching, hair erratic in its red-blond color and wavy-curl style, white button-up shirt with collar and dark blue rolled-up jeans, too. She wiped her dark hands on them unthinkingly. Her face was long, hard, and pale with freckles. Her eyebrows arched, front teeth showing without thought. She also had thin lips, and her neck was slim. Good for biting, but painful for her. Her father slapped her back. Keeping an eye on her thoughts, then, huh? She blocked them. He frowned.
"Rose," her expression dawned into angry understanding, uh oh, "and she's blocking her mind."
"Oh. Oh." He motioned to the great, split oak tree with his hands. Only for her. It was shady there, by the fence. Rose obediently waited as she got it and they went there, out of even vampire hearing range.
"Mic'kayula, be serious for once. She's been watching a human sleep."
"Oh, no," she gasped, hand over mouth. She was horrified.
"Oh, yes. And it's a boy."
"Oh, shit," she gasped involuntarily. "Not on my watch. . "Do you... do you think that they did anything?”
"No, no, no, of course not! I saw her, I swear. So will you watch her for 6 months? She can't go outside California, and doctor's at least every month," he said, finally coming out to her and just laying down the equation.
"Uhhhhhhh. Okay, Adam. But not for you. Never for you. Only for my dear, stupid sister and reckless, helpless niece. Got it?" He didn't bother answering or arguing. He'd tried, about 5,000 years earlier. When he had met Stella. Stella's older sister was her only caring family. Who hoo. Lucky him. At least this time he did not ram her into a tree. And split it. She seemed like an actually good aunt, for the time being. God, he sure hoped that she would be serious with his Rose. His. Rose. And she was forever his. Forever.
Her father had left her with some caring instructions, to which she listened to of no avail, and his leave was not a sad one.
Mic'kayula hurried her inside with an 'aunt's caring touch'. How was she her mother's sister? Maybe the bad side. No, not bad just rough, like that vampire Damon she had read about in The Vampire Diaries by Lisa Jane Smith... Mic'kayula turned abruptly, shook her shoulders, looked her in the eye and said, "Stop thinking about me. And don't call me Mic'kayula. It's aunt."
"Shapeshifters don't read minds..." She started, but was cut off.
"You're right, they don't. But me, for me, it's just kind of a special thing I do, okay?"
"You're part vampire..."
"YEAH! I mean, uh, yeah, I am. I'm only your mother's half-sister, okay?" Her voice rose. "My father..." Her breath was ragged, "And Stella's mother were married, but he walked out on her when I was three. Okay?"
"Yeah, we're okay, auntie. Let's go."
The door rickety-ly opened by a slight push, and it was a soft darkness. Rose was not surprised and didn't even have to adjust. The hall was short, matter-of-fact, and you could never guess from the outside that the shack was so big inside. An illusion, then. The wall were a creamy white, with a baise carpeting, fluffy, she noted. There were white nightstands with drawers at regular intervals, a clear potted vase with assorted purple flowers inside. Down the hall was an open door, a cleanly kitchen, bright yellow with white painted cabinets and tiling, and a wooden table, flowered windowsills and stove and oven, a dishwasher, sink and blue-flecked plates, cups, china, and polished silverware. Light streamed in. Opposite a few corners down on the left, was a shut door, and further an open guest room. She pushed Rose in and left for the other room without a word, spinning quickly. Rose heaved a sigh and walked in, shutting the door behind her quietly. Then she got excited. California! Utah! She thought, blocking. Continuing her investigation. Even though she had had sex with David, she didn't know him through and through, only in the literal sense. She would have to be careful around auntie, though. She heaved her suitcase on the bed, threw the curtains in a corner. She flipped the portrait and put it in the closet, on a conveniently placed nail. Too convenient. She would have to cover it later. But not now. Whatever. Papers thrown in the top dresser drawer, scattered, suitcase put by the nightstand with clothes still inside, flopped onto the now unmade bed. She got sick of the quiet. Flopping up in a backflip, she opened the door and crept down the dimly lit hall. And slowly, quietly, ever so, knocked on the opposite door. "WHAT!?"
"Uh, auntie? Can I go get some snacks from the General Store?"
"Sure, I'll show you the way. Come on." She peeked out, waving her hand.
"No, I got it. I'll be awhile anyways. Bye." She rushed out, waving. Her aunt retreated, suspicious. Good, she was so naive, like her father, she blocking-ly thought with a sense of dejá-vu. Skipping back to her room, she grabbed a fluffy but light purple coat from her suitcase, and stumbled outside still shrugging it on. Vampires didn't usually get chills, but today, as she traveled past empty parks and buildings and cars, walking in the center of the road, the only thing she heard was leaves rustling, and although it was spring, and it was supposed to be hot here, it was like winter. The air made her throat burn, and her eyes sting, and whipping against her face it dried her skin. Zipping up her coat, shoving her hands in her pockets, and huddling into her now-raised hood, she knew that now she was only cold of loneliness. Bodies against her were clearly the bomb.
The General Store was at the curve of the road. Quickening her pace, she got there in a matter of minutes. It slightly warmed her to enter the airy but cramped store, it had an air of slight familiarity, like Florida's souvenir shops. It was crammed with candy and beach supplies, and chips, but at the bell jingling and Rose's hood dropping the cashier across the store shivered. Rose gusted around with the girl watching her the whole time. She picked up many things, as her father had stocked her with money for 'necessary means'. She had trouble deciding on the best headphones, then grabbed some clear earbuds. With earbuds, you need a device, so Rose got the oldest, a small one that was black. Comfort food, yes, comfort food! While she was here she might as well prepare for her trip to Utah. She got over five bags of barbecue chips, and a pack of water bottles. Lastly, a discreet black bag. Her whole goal for the 'illegal' items was screaming DISCREET. She piled them onto the counter, paid the stunned lady, then left. On her way out she bought another black pair of earbuds. Reluctantly going out into the cold, she put in the black buds to match her jacket. She decided to take the long way around to use her new phone. She was lucky, since it was so old and donated, it was at a General Store. She slowly turned it on. It took too fucking long, so she turned it over and took out the back panel. She rearranged some of the cheap wires, and stopped by the hardware store. She bought some and replaced them, looking down the whole time. She did not care about how much anyone marveled at her. It loaded faster than ever, and she went on, and put in a password that none of her family would ever guess... a D for David. Heh, heh. What she had really came for, though, was music. She downloaded The Twilight full movie soundtrack, plugged in her earbuds, and listened the whole way back to her calming music. She didn't remember putting her chips into the bag, the earbuds in her pocket, and carrying the water bottles with no stress back to the shack, nor humming, swaying and being slightly happy since she had gotten here. She also didn't remember flopping down on the bed at home, dropping the bag, and falling asleep swaying to the music.
Then she realized that she wasn't at home.
She woke to the sunlight all disheveled. Her aunt was calling her name from the kitchen. She heard bacon sizzling and a pancake being flipped. Shit, was she really that naive? Rose hopped up with a 'coming, auntie!' She stripped off her jacket only to realize that the phone was about to fall off of the bed and she was entangled in the black earbuds. She reached out just in time to grab it, then shoved it into a drawer in her nightstand. Bottom, of course. She slowly looked around for the earbud end, then unwrapped them with practice. She put them into the drawer, cussed, and vowed never to do this again. She heard a tapping foot. She dashed around, hung her jacket on a nifty door hook, and then relaxed. She felt like freshening up, so she was relieved to find a full-out bathroom. However, she was pissed that all the shampoos and conditioners and bar soaps were old lady-ish. She loved soothing strawberry. So that was what she would get next General Store trip, then. But then again, it's coconut smell was soothing. She moved slowly and thoroughly, and felt weird with her body bare without David around. The bar soap also made her skin feel odd. She toweled off with a big fluffy white one in the pile, then tossed it into a corner. She glanced up involuntarily, and saw a clock. She had spent over thirty minutes in there! She'd better hurry up. She shrugged into a random pair of blue skinny jeans and a black tee that she grabbed from her suitcase, and wished that David was here to see her. The tee was so tight. He had given her breasts great compliments two nights ago. Wow. Running a comb through her damp hair, she sped down the hall to the kitchen. She tossed the brush outside the door just before composing herself and walking in. Her aunt glared at her skeptically. "Auntie..." She started, but Mic'kayula cut her off. She held up a bag of artificial blood, and Rose knew right away that it was cow's from the smell of it. Auntie was flipping beef patties. Rose almost choked on kindness, her throat swelling up, but then she remembered who she was, where she was, who she was speaking to, and why, and frowned. Seeing it, Mic'kayula tossed the bag at her and said, "A forest a... well the distance doesn't matter to you but it's to the Northeast. Goodbye." She wouldn't let her see how disappointed she was. She wouldn't. On her way out, Rose threw the bag on the front steps. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, she sang. Then she darted to the Northeast. After taking down a few oversized deer, more than usual, she decided to go to Utah tomorrow. Going back, she strickingly realized that she had spent hours, and it was getting dark. Fuck. Oh, Mic'kayula would be soooo mad at her. And she was. When she got home, she was screaming at her:
"ROSE WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! Not hunting, of course." Rose was exceptionally calm, and praised herself for it later.
"Actually, Auntie, I have. Your forests have great selection, and I took down more than one deer."
"Oh really?" Unthinkingly Mic'kayula's eyes dropped to Rose's stomach, of course thinking that they did it, and slapped herself for it later. She snapped up and both stared for a while, but gradually both relaxed. Vampires couldn't have children with humans or whatever this boy was.
"Auntie, can I hunt for a while every day now?"
"What, no, you'll be bursting like a tick!?" Oh, yeah, shit, she was a vampire. Uhhhhmmm...
"Oh, yeah, I, uh, forgot. So how about if I just roam the town?"
"Sounds like an excuse to me." To me, too, Rose thought.
"No really Auntie, if I'm going to be here for a while I might as well get to know around. How about the reaches of Utah? It would be fun."
"Uhhhh, okay. I won't even demand to go with you. Tomorrow, though, okay?"
"Yeah, Auntie, I'm gonna go to bed now okay? Bye." She zoomed off, knowing that Mic wasn't convinced. And she dreamed.
Her dream was pleasant, but other than that, she couldn’t remember it at all.
She woke early with the iconic morning mist. She heard so much snoring form Mickey's room, it was ridiculous. How could they sleep? She dressed hurriedly today, and guessing that it was cold outside, she dressed in a black sweater and denims. Grabbing her chip bags franticly, she made sure to grab her earbuds and phone, shoving them in. Now, where did her Auntie keep the phone books and maps? She went to the kitchen and looked in a cupboard. Ah ha! Throwing them in and glancing at the map, she set off to the Northeast vampire speed.
While everything blurred, she marveled at how close she was yesterday, and so occupied with hunger. Just, how?
She stopped directly atop the tall hills lining the border. Then she pulled out the phone book. She tried to think back and thought, I shoulda brought the damn painting, or at least looked at it before I left. Now, let's see. His aunt Emily, I think, yeah Emily Kinesse... Why was she so damned scatterbrained today! Huhhhhhh. Back on track, right, back on track. Did you run track? Ran through her mind. Vampire, remember?
Finding Kinesse in the phone book was not hard, but it didn't list much. She was lucky to find one of those whitepages.com on her phone that tells you about everyone and everything. On there it barely listed her either. But there was an address. And she gathered her things and dashed off to it.
She knocked timidly at first, and then loudly, boldly. At no quick answer, she suddenly picked up the loud murmurings from inside. She didn't care at first, but then she picked up:
"But Emily, I love her! She's so gorgeous and kind, and, smart, and, and..." He was pleading in a high voice.
"That's exactly how your mother was." It was cold. "No good reasons."
"She's different, mom." He, in turn, had not used her fake nickname for years. Rose sensed a grimace. Actually, two, in the pause that followed.
"Same ways, always the same ways."
"She's more to me than just a girl. I want to spend my life with her." It was simply put. Then, enraged, "But I can't! Her father took her somewhere for staying up late, and, and... just..."
Rose burst in.
"Rose, you bitch, you, you... Where were you?" Gasp. Tray clanging. Rose wanted to help, but this...this...boy had leaped up and twirled her by the waist in a circle. Only one boy's voice was that soothing and velvety... only one boy's grip was that familiar and soft...
"DAVID!” Cried his aunt.. And then he and his aunt had a staredown. Uhhhh...
"Emily, this is Rose Niotreizé, my girlfriend." He looked at her with wonder. "Can we have a moment alone?" He asked, already dragging her to a room offsetting the right. Without waiting for an answer. Later they realize that she had called 'Don't do anything dirty!' after them. She had no idea. "What are you doing here?" They both said at the same time. Then again: "No, you start. No, you." Finally Rose took over:
"Me first," she said. "David?"
"Looking for you."
"I was...trying to figure out something."
"What, honey? You can tell me anything."
"Huhh. David, you're something else. Not human," she said hurriedly as he smiled, then shocked. "Or else I couldn't have had sex with you. So I came to question your aunt."
"How did you know that she was my aunt?"
"Uh, Ellis told me. So let's go."
"But... your father..."
"I'm living with my aunt for sixth months, but I'm going to come here daily to 'meet the locals'."
"Oh, okay then," he said. Rose boldly walked out in strides and stuck out her hand.
"Hello, Mrs. Kinesse. I'm Rose Niotreizé, David's..." She clarified with a look. "Girlfriend. Hi. Nice to meet you. Or may I call you Emily?" She asked. Taking her hand:
"Nice to meet you too, of course you may. So you're the girl that I've heard so much about." A look at David.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Hmmm..." She seemed to clarify that she was good enough.
"May I hear about David's mother?" She asked, sitting down on a hard yellow couch.
"She died a long time ago... and it hurts him to hear about her." Stubborn, stubborn, picky, picky, huh? Well...
"What was her name?"
"Emma Isabella Prefescheion."
"And his father, then, him too?"
"Well, not exactly, no..." Rose leaned over to her, and when David tried to hold her back, guessing what she was doing, she pried him off and glanced a 'cool your tits, dude' glance at him. He totally backed off, shocked. Then she whispered:
"Ma'am, I'm a vampire." Her eyes got as round as saucers. David gasped.
"He's an angel-human mix," she croaked.
"Which one was... THE WHAT?!"
"Angels are very, very rare nowadays," she breathed.
"But how did the angel...how is he half-human?"
"The human mother didn't know," she said simply.
"Emily..." Started David. "Then my father really must not have died if he was an angel! Could he?!" He gripped Rose's arms and swung her wildly around.
"No, he didn't die. Though I wish he would. He left your mother after his son was safely delivered."
"Ohhh..." David sank to the couch by Rose, and she held him.
"So..."
"Angels are pure, and they do whatever good deed is asked of them. And see his golden hair and deep blue eyes?"
"Yeah..."
"Ohhhh..."
"Yep," she said matter-of-factly.
"His powers?"
"Strength, speed, beauty, wavering, eternal life, perfection, etc."
"David? David, honey, wake up. Did you hear?"
"Yeah..."
"Oh my God it's dark I've gotta go." Rose said.
"Bye honey!" Emily called, and Rose rushed back to get a peck on the cheek and kiss on the mouth from David.
"Love you," he whispered.
"Yt," she responded. You too.
Rushing home, Rose was pleased. Auntie hadn't even stayed up to kill her. Literally. She remembered the whitepages. Then she realized that she didn't know much about Mic'kayula. So she looked her up. She scanned, and then saw, surprisingly in the short paragraph:
Was engaged for three months starting March 1st 1987, but he left her right before ceremony in June...
Hmmm... Auntie... Befuddled, she went to see the sign, and then thought back. The story about David's father reminded her of another sad story... He walked out on me when he was three... He left after his precious son was born... Mic'kayula wasn't that old, as a shapeshifter. With Stella at 36, and three years after, Mic was 39. David was... 18. 39-18... she did it in a notebook. =21. And angels with eternal life... No. No way. There was no way. On her phone she looked up the average marriage age, and it said 25. Rose saw fold-down steps, and ran into an attic. She was so stunned that she pulled down the ladder with sheer power. Running up there was one box in a dark corner. Pulling it over with power, she dug through it. A bunch of tissue paper and one scrapbook. But that is not what she was looking for, it seemed. Underneath was a weathered diary. Flipping a while in, it read:
March 1st, 1987
Today Ricardoichard Kinessé asked me for his hand in marriage! It was what I have been waiting for after two months of dating! Is it too soon? I am sure he loves me, and he's gorgeous! But however sadly I do not know him all over :(. I know he is an angel, and I shouldn't be writing this! I'm the only one he's told about his rare abilities! I'm keeping it a family secret, though, because my whole family, not even Stella, would approve.
She went to three months later:
June 2nd, 1987
He left me! He didn't even show to the ceremony! I will try to find him...No, I will forget him. And never tell anyone about this humiliation.
Kinessé! I must ask Emily tomorrow. And It was only when Rose went to sleep that she realized that it had already been a month. And she had to go to the doctor's tomorrow.
Well, that delayed her trip to David's. She was upset that he was waiting. Skipping to the doctor's, she knew that her senses may only be intact a little. She had been stormy lately. And she was right. Her weight was over, 176, and her height was shorter, 5'3". Huh. She had a slow and fast reaction time, and got sight and memory tests wrong. Weird. She dismissed the doctor's exam, and sped off to David's, excited. She was slower.
"Oh, Rose, where have you been?!"
"Cool it Daddy-os, I gotta talk to Emily."
"What the hell?! I thought you and Emily... Wait a minute about what?"
"Your dad."
"She's in the laundry room by the entrance," he said, defeated by the mention of his dad.
"Emmmm-illllly!" Called Rose. "Emmmm-illl-"
"Rose, I'm right here," she grabbed her. "Now what?"
"I want to know about David's father."
"Why?"
"Just go ahead and tell me already."
"His name was Ricardoichard. Here's a picture of him. It was in his mother's wallet, so now I carry this hateful man."
He was hot, that much was sure. Devastatingly. Rose choked. "That's...my...mother's sister's...aunt's...ex..." She passed out.
She awoke to David cradling her and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Even though she had been sure, it had been a jolt. She and David were...had sex...how was this connected!? What the hell!? Am I like Edgar Allen Poe now or what the fuck?! Ricky there must have gone from her aunt's, being greedy, realizing that he could never have an all-angel child and went to take Emma, misleading her, misguiding her. And that he could not manipulate Mic'kayula... that caniving sonofabitch. "I...have to go" Rose said, got up, and hurried out.
For a month she sat in her room, cradling herself. It wasn't creepy though, she showered, she hunted, she went to her doctor's, and the weirdness and dismissiveness progressed. It gained; the weight; the decrease in height; the power. She slept most of the time, and only woke to vivid dreams that she could not remember.
After two months Rose tried to go back to David's. Emily was not home, and they got dangerously close to having sex again. They could have, any time they wanted, but something in Rose's ethic said that it was terribly wrong. And not ever, but just now. Weird. They only stopped when David's hands started to slide up her shirt and her custom over XL bra, like David had first noticed giddily and not at all surprised, maybe a little, and pleased...okay she was going into too much detail about this.
And then something weird, bad, and life-changing happened. At the exact three month mark, Rose woke up. She woke up to a huge tan hump. Her black pajama's buttons had popped various long places away, and the top was laying at her sides. The hump was so huge that her tight pants had snapped and fallen down her bottom. She started, and it was hard to sit up. The first thing she thought was Fuck, Mic'kayula. Then she remembered that she spent a lot of time in her room nowadays. She immediately started to make a plan, but then was stunned still. What was this bump? Without thinking, she sensed with her mind. Into the bathroom, down into the cabinets, into a secret compartment...ages-old pregnancy tests. Now, who knew if they were accurate, being from Auntie's Ricardoichard days, but the evidence was pretty sure. It was 100%. Rose fingered her stomach. It was rock-solid. Fuck my life, she thought. Then she had morning sickness.
Rose went on her phone later that night. She had her plan, at night she was grabbing David and leaving, that much was going to be agreed. But... it had only been three months since she had had sex with David. And her stomach was a size six months. She absentmindedly fingered it's hardness, and then knew that she was carrying a Special child, and it grew twice as fast.
She was trying to make a checklist for her run. And finally, she had to accept the truth. She had made a mistake. A big, sexual mistake. And there was no going back. She was pregnant. Shoulda picked up some condoms and birth control at the General Store. She would have to leave her family forever, and never, ever come back. She was a disgrace, the disgrace, the embarrassment. David would build themselves a cabin in... Alaska. She would forever block her mind, as she was now, and he would have to hunt for her. She wouldn't even get to say goodbye, be at her own house. Maybe she could come back someday, far from now. But... what if her father didn't accept her?
When it was finally dark, she crept through the hallways, trying to cover her... baby bump. Her door creaked, and she jumped. "Um, Auntie, going out!" She called, her voice strained and cracking. She heard loud snores. Maybe being half vampire and half shapeshifter, you slept all of the night and day. She had been fooling her when she had made her beef that morning. Who could be trusted in this world without a dark past?
She made it out safe with her aunt's stash of cash. A large stash hidden in her aunt's closet, and her personal money. They had to start a new beginning. Which involved a lot of money. Products like blankets, pillows, mattresses, sheets, fridge, dishwasher, sink, silverware like forks, knifes, spoons, plates, placemats, tablecloth, etc. David could build wooden furniture, beds, tables, chairs, counters. For more cash, she would have to steal from her own parents. At her forbidden-to-go-to house. The only time to do it would have to be when her father hunted, around 10:00 P.M., her mother's and brother's and sister's bedtimes, to dawn, 2:00 A.M. Now time for David's. Before she had left she had cleaned herself, and wore her largest shirt, bra, and leggings. And it still stressed the bump. She had also grabbed the test and put it in a box she had found in the guest room closet. Then she had wrapped it with a bow, and slowly sped off. Why was she so impractical? Never a mistake that she would make again. She had found her guy. Too early.
When she got to Emily's, she prayed that David hadn't left. And when she crept up to his room window, she could see his peaceful figure. Thank God. She rapped on the window, carefully covering her bump. "What? Huh?" He said, sitting up sleepily. Then he saw her. He perked up, and quickly walked to the window. "What? Rose? I don't think this is the time for se-,"
"I'm not here for sex," she whispered. "I have something to tell you." She thrust the gift at him.
"What the he-." He stopped after he tore off the paper. "Rose," he whispered.
"Shoulda picked up some condoms and birth control at the General Store," she still whispered, fake laughing. "Heh, heh." She moved her hand, and revealed the bump. Before he could speak, she was. "We have to go. Tonight. I'll tell you about Specials on the way." She waved the cash at him. "You're going to build us a house in Alaska, and furniture. We'll stop at a store on the way. Now block your mind."
"What?"
"Don't let anyone hear your thoughts. And we have to stop at my house to get more cash. Come on."
"Just let me write a note to Emily."
"No-." But he was already at it.
Dear Mom,
I'm sorry. I did it with Rose, and now she's pregnant. Her family may harm her, so we're running. Don't try to find us.
David.
"Okay, okay. Now let's go."
"Wait, Rose. Don't get spooked, but do you see that raven behind you?" He waited until she turned, and jumped, and he snuck up behind her and hugged her softly, trying to sneak a feel of the bump. "It's there every time. We're together, that is."
"Oh..."
But he paused, and walked across the hall. She saw him kiss Emily on the cheek, and then he said,
"Let's go."
And they sped off together into the night, holding hands. Rose cradled the bump with her other hand, and then David reached over and touched it too. And they smiled at each other. "So now, Special children grow twice as fast, so I'm a size sixth months. And I probably can't hunt, so you'll have to for me. Because you're an angel, we'll know if the child is a vampire or an angel right away. Lucky us. Um, I'll have morning sickness and all that too. But we can do this, right?”
“Anything is possible with us Rose, we’re a pretty odd couple, a vampire and an Angel, after all.”
Character Details:
Rose Niotreize: 16 year old vampire, long straight black hair, blue-violet eyes. Slim figure, seduces easily, never plans ahead in life but to scheme. Relationship with her father is strained. Middle child of Stella and Adam. David Kinesse’s girlfriend. Soon to have their child. Older sister Melissa, younger brother Angelo. Aunt Mickayula.
David Sepecial Kinesse: Angel Human mix, 17 years old, blond fluffy hair, blue eyes, sporty, aunt Emily is his only family, mother is dead, father was supposed to be dead but may still be alive, Rose’s boyfriend, father of their child.
Ellis: human girl, David and Roses best friend, knows Rose’s secret. Very intelligent and helpful.
Adam Niotreize: Rose, Melissa and Angelos father and Stellas husband. 10,000 year old vampire, brother Vermont Denator, sister in law Mickayula. Very strict, angry, sad because of his mother dying in front of him when he was two. Short straight black hair, gray red eyes.
Stella Niotreize: Rose, Melissa and Angelos mother, Adams wife, second of house command, shapeshifter, favorite forms are cats and birds, blonde wavy hair, blue eyes, 36 years old. Not strict, good housekeeper.
Melissa Niotreize: 18 year old shapeshifter, first child of Stella and Adam, Rose and Angelou’s older sister. Favorite forms are cats and birds, takes after her mother a lot. Girly girl, loves humanity and wants to be a children’s doctor to help humans. Long brown wavy hair, brown eyes.
Angelo Niotreize: 3 year old boy, until you’re four you don’t know if you’re a shapeshifter or vampire. Specials cannot talk or walk until they are four. Blonde straight hair, brown eyes. Plays with his fathers old toy truck. Doesn’t seem to like the vampire half of the family. Is predicted to be a shapeshifter, and is a mother’s boy.
Vermont Denator: Evil younger vampire brother of Adam Niotreize, pretends to be Rose and David’s French teacher, then tries to rape and kill Rose. Never knew his mother, she was killed by their father when he was a newborn. Deceased by end of story, killed by his own brother to protect Rose.
Aunt Emily Kinesse: David’s aunt, his human mother’s sister. Hates Ricardoichard because he left her.
Aunt Mickayula: Stellas older sister, half vampire, half shapeshifter. Sleeps all day, dark past with Ricardoichard.
Ricardoichard Kinesse: David’s father, Mickayulas ex fiancé. Evil, just wanted an Angel child. Disappeared before David was born. Dark black hair, black eyes. Evil Angel.
Mysterious crow: appears every time Rose and David are together.
"Your father? Probably in his room, I suppose. Planning the next move." Stella's voice was cool, smooth.
"Again?!" Rose exclaimed, as her hand reached out supernaturally quick to catch a piece of her underwear that was sneaking off the ramp. "Where to this time?!"
"I don't know," replied her mother.
"Then I'll go find out."
"No, wait, Rose-Hmph." Rose was already marching through her sister's room, whom payed no attention to her, as always, and her parent's, where her three year old brother Angelo put down her dad's very old toy truck and held out his arms to her.
"Not now, Angelo," she said, and she watched his face fall with recognition. He was very smart, even now. She climbed down the flying house's ladder. She didn't bother going down the hall, she climbed outside, walked the hall's length, then climbed into her father's private quarters. "Hi, Dad," she greeted him. Her father was not surprised to hear her. He was never surprised.
" Hello, Rose," he said, in his accent like liquid chocolate.
"Whatcha doin'?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm doing."
"Where to?"
"New Jersey. I have told you about Ottawa, that quaint, quite little town, have I not?"
"Yes, only about a million times."
"Actually only ten." Rose smacked her palm to her forehead.
"Why do you have to be so literal all the time?"
"Vampires, the ones like I, who have been centuries in only darkness, are literal, Rose. It is normal."
Sigh. "Not to the humans, Dad."
"Mmmm, yes, I know, the humans."
"They're why we're leaving, isn't it?"
"Not exactly, no." Rose knew the answer in his head. Its you, we are worried about you with the humans. That is why we must move so often. Sometimes she thought they regretted having her...
"I see."
"Mmmm. Now," he said, flipping a switch to his right. All ladders and ramps outdoors locked down. "We are leaving. Make sure everything is secure. Tell your mother and sister. And don't forget your brother!" he called after her as she opened the door behind her and walked down the darkened hallway with the flickering old candelabras.
"Why me?" she grumbled. "I won't!" she called over her shoulder. Her father sighed. He turned back to the wheel of the house, closing the door behind her. Rose called to her mother in the living room. "We're leaving," she said. Her mother nodded to her. "Secure everything." Her brother crawled down the ladder. She swung him up, then passed him to her with a solemn look. Her eyes showed that she understood. Then she rushed off to the dining room. Rose stomped up the ladders. "Melissa!" she called. Her sister's head peered out the door. "We're leaving!"
"Got it!" she called back. Okay, Rose thought. Then she sat back on her ramp and watched the oceanic scenery flash by. Bye bye, Florida, she thought.
Adam pressed the button on the wheel. The flying house slowed, and with it, the blurred scenery, and then it all stopped, exactly in the spot he wanted. "Adam," said a soft voice. He turned. His eyes were confused, and seeing his wife did not clear them.
"We should not have come," he said. "I have a bad feeling about here." His confusion entered her eyes. It was dark by now, and they both noticed at the same time. They also noticed the deep black raven sitting on the windowsill. "Shoo," Adam said, and waved his arm, but the raven stood solidly. And it shook Stella. The deep, dark, penetrating eyes looked familiar... badly.
"We'd better get to bed."
While Melissa, Stella, and Angelo were asleep, Rose summoned her father with her mind. Let's go, she said. Agreed, he replied. They crept from their rooms, Rose jumping off of the ramp softly, catlike. They glanced at each other, then crept into the nearby forest. They hid behind the tall pines. Rose was in one in a second. Then she leapt quickly onto an innocent rabbit, and ended its suffering quickly, stabbing her fangs into the large vein in the neck. She extracted the blood quickly, too, eyes alight with a power. Her father had left her for his own hunting. She wiped the blood off of her lips with the back of her hand, and thought that the rabbit was surely enough to sustain her. She sighed in pleasure. Then she dropped the body and ran out to the edge of the forest. He was just arriving. They ran back to the house just as dawn struck.
Rose dabbed the last small traces of rabbit blood off of her beautiful features. Her hair was perfect. Her breath was always sweet. The last hints of bloodlust in her violet eyes were fading. Her clothes were impeccable. She was normal. She grabbed her school bag out of the bathroom corner and walked off to the high school. She didn't take the winding road. It was too slow. She was already late, as always. Her parents didn't know if it was because she had to clean up so perfectly or if it was just her. They were leaning towards just her. So instead she cut across the town to see it. She kicked the dirt, and passed a large restaurant, an apartment, the doctor's office her family was to visit the next day after school (her father was crazy about good health and protection for an unknown reason), a park and a house and then she was crossing the road. She didn't look up, not ever. She could sense everything. No cars came, everyone was at school. But if there was, Rose would have stopped it with the Powers. They were usually dazed by stopping so fast. She walked the short and thin sidewalk, then opened the door. She turned right into the office so fast, and the elderly lady at the desk looked startled. Rose slowly approached her. "Hello," she said softly, as not to frighten her. Then the woman seemed to snap back into reality.
"Name, dear?"
"Rose Ne-oh-trey-z." They went through the spelling of it (Niotreizé), then there was the clacking of fingers on keyboard keys. She turned the counsel at her and pointed at her picture.
"This you, dearie?" she asked, and ran her finger down her fake birth date, age, grade level, hair color, eye color, skin color and such.
"Yes, ma'am." The woman went through a small stack of papers to her right, then, nearing the end, pulled out a folded schedule.
"Here you go, sweetie."
"Thank you."
She entered the classroom a few moments later. All conversation stopped. Some boys whistled. She felt all life forms, one brighter than most... then it disappeared. One boy was looking out the window, embarrassed. She tugged at his thoughts. They didn't come. She was frustrated, not realizing what was happening until someone propelled her to a desk in the front row. The front row was empty but for a boy to her left and a girl to her right. Each were a few desks down. The boys were on the left behind her and the girls on the right. She heard whispers. Then she focused on what the teacher was talking about. He was speaking about the first French settlers. That was when her father was born. The boy and girl next to her, Adam and Ellis, were asking and answering questions a lot. The others stared at her. She hurriedly flipped her book open to Page Seven. She started to try to read to catch up to them. The first French settlers came across the sea in the.... force. Rose realized that she was centering on that force again. He was perfect. Almost like a vampire. His body... she wouldn't go there. He had fluffy blond hair, and a nice tan, she didn't know if it was fake or not. She was going for real. His eyes were a pure blue...so pure...
"Rose? Rose Niotreizé?" Rose snapped her head around. "I wanted to introduce you to the class. I just wanted to finish talking about the arrival of the French first. So Rose, why don’t you come up to the front of the room?" Rose was dazed. Suddenly she snapped back to life.
"Sure, Mr. Kufnu." Rose stood and went to the center of the room.
"Class, this is Miss. Rose Niotreizé. She just moved here from Florida. Now Rose, do you know when the first French settlers got here was?"
"1608." Rose answered automatically. Her father had told her about that exactly...fifty times. It felt odd to be so literal. So...vampire. She heard a voice.
"Thank you so much, Rose! See, she was listening, even though she just arrived. Or she just reads a lot! Huh! You can take a seat now, Rose. I want you all to read from pages eight to seventeen. If you didn't finish seven, do that also. Do not read any more!" Rose had taken her seat as Mr. Kufnu glared at Adam, Ellis and some other students. Mostly girls. "If you don't finish it here, do it for homework! Also do notes on those pages! Only a few! Please." Most students were either gazing off or already reading. Even Adam and Ellis. "Or else..." He finished. Or else what, Rose thought. You'll, what, harm me? Rose laughed softly to herself. Then she quickly turned to the sharp presence behind her. It was the boy.
"Did you find the page alright?" he asked softly. "It seemed that you just knew the dates off of the top of your head."
"I've got it, thanks," she responded softly, staring straight up into those big blue eyes...
"No, really, let me at least open your book for you..." He stared into her violet eyes, and the world around them wasn't there. No students, no teacher, no school, no parents. Nothing. All time stopped. If only this moment could last forever...it felt eternal just to be near him. He was so, so close to her now... he slowly reached across her, to the book she had shut unconsciously when he had come up to her. She was glad she had done it now, as he touched her... his skin was burning hot!! But he seemed fine... she jumped, startled. Then, oh no, he felt how freezing she was and he jumped, too! But... he regained control?! What!? His arm brushed her lightly, and he flipped her open to page eight quickly. "Have you read seven yet? I don’t want to put you on the wrong page..."
"No," she said softly, barely able to hold in the feelings of surprise, joy, and...something else? Love? No. No. No. That's not it, I'm wrong. I'm so, so, sickeningly wrong... It was an automatic no, of course, she didn't know what she was saying. So many nos... but she hadn't read seven yet. "No" she said more steadily.
"Okay," he said, flipping her back a page. "Goodbye..." Goodbye? No! Is what she wanted to shout, but she didn't. She couldn't.
"Goodbye..." she trailed off as he walked slowly away. The bell rung. They both jumped. They felt in a trance. She slid out of her seat and walked out into a crowd.
He stared at her in the crowd, trying to crane his tall head, but couldn't see her. Rose was in such total shock that she flew out of the room, not even trying to keep human pace.
Rose walked right on to French class. Her father had forced her to take it, but she didn't want to. It was just going to be annoying.. She walked into the classroom to a stern, no-nonsense man. He steered around her, as she didn't bother to look up, but she did it without the powers. Hmmm. How did he move so fast? Never mind. She'd think about it later, it wasn't like a vampire to forget. Her hair swung around her face as she quickly walked to the last desk in the back row corner. Here she sat down. As the other students filed in, she stared at them through the dark screen. No, no, no, no, and no... When the bell finally rung, he wasn't there. She realized that she didn't even know his name. She turned to the girl beside her. "Hello," she whispered as the teacher started talking. She pushed back her hair.
"Oh, hello!" said the girl brightly. She recognized Ellis as she came out of her trance. The teacher glared at them.
"Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh shhhhh" she said. Ellis was silenced. Her father would KILL her if he found out that she was talking in class. And this was just the type of teacher to report it. "Remember that boy that came up to me in History? What was his name, do you know?" Ellis's eyes widened like a startled fawn's, and she did seem to be. Then she regained control.
"Oh. His name is David Kinesse." She was disappointed that she just asked about him. I must be a topic of gossip, she thought. She felt sorry for her, but not a lot. Then she heard the door creaking slowly open... it is! There was the so-called David Kinesse! And he. was. late. Wow. There was no one else at the table but Ellis and her, she realized, they must be frightened of me and they sent poor, manipulated Ellis to get the scoop. Huh. Certain boys that probably weren't in her first hour were still staring at her. Girls to her left, classily dressed, were trying to giggle inconspicuously at her. Probably the gossipers that sent Ellis to sit with her. Other girls, the poor type, were swooning at something. Then she remembered David. She turned her head sharply to the door. David was being followed by a large group of probably bad boys, and girls, and just then Rose realized that David was maybe her type... nope. He stood tall in front of the teacher, and he was taller than him by just a few inches, and the teacher looked startled. But why? She remembered how he had quickly moved around her without the Powers, and wondered. Hmmm... David was now explaining, with resistance, that he was talking to Mr. Kufnu about how he could buy the History book and such. It surely was true. He eagerly held out a green pass slip, and the teacher glared at it, then waved him off. The girls sat at an empty table and the boys sat at another, motioning David over. But David looked around and frowned, deeper and deeper. Then he saw her, and grinned. The boys started to follow him, but he waved them quickly away. He sat down across from her because Ellis had taken the seat next to her.
"Hey," he said gingerly, softly. Like he didn't want to startle her.
"Hey," she responded in a whisper. Then they were very quiet because the teacher was talking.
"Hello students. I am Mr. Vern Denator. Only Professor Denator to you students, though," he said. “So as I was saying, I will be teaching French class. He was staring at her, she felt it. And he didn't bother to look away when she glanced at him. Oh crap. He better not like her, but... maybe she wanted him to... The teacher was talking again. "...and so, our first lesson is... DAVID KINESSE! TURN TOWARDS ME! NOW!" David jumped at his name and quickly turned around, adding a:
"Yes, Professor Denator!" at the end. When the teacher glanced away from him, David quickly turned his head and sheepishly smiled at her. She gave him a light, prodding smile back.
"See me after class, Mr. Kinesse," came the light, humoring voice from the front of the room.
"Shit," David muttered under his breath to her, quickly. Then he spun around. "Yes, Mr. Denator." Rose giggled under her breath also, and he apparently heard her, because his cheeks went up a little from what she could see at the back of his head.
"I'm sure you would like to join him, Miss. Niotreizé?" Now Rose was the one who wanted to cuss. All eyes turned from both David and her and glances at the teacher to just her and the teacher glances. They bore into her face.
"No sir." Rose responded with as much dignity she could muster.
"Alright then," he responded, turning back to the class. All eyes went to him now, thank God. "So as I was saying, our first lesson is about France’s history.”
"Awwwwwwwwwwww, no!" was the resounding response.
"Yes! There will be no more of that. So, since we already wasted 20 minutes of our class time," with a glance full of hatred at David, which he shrunk back from, " I will be passing out papers today. You will be getting my syllabus, which you must return to me on the bell, tomorrow, signed by your parent, and I will ask them about it at conferences," another glance at David, flickering to her and then the group, " and then a black notebook, so do not try to replace it. Also a packet, and DO NOT draw on it except to write your name. Here you go, Rose and David, since you caused so much commotion earlier, please pass these out. Only pass them out, nothing else." Rose rose fluently as David got up, clumsy in comparison. A small part of Rose's mind noted that it was just like this guy to give out the most depressing color in the world on all of his notebooks, strictly uniform, what with his slicked pure black hair and eyes like a storm cloud... with a hint of red... hmmm... she wondered... she had seen someone like that before... not that there was anything wrong with black, though she liked violet, or maybe blue, more.... she took the notebooks from the teacher as David took the syllabus and packets. Then she absentmindedly passed them out quickly. She flew back to her seat with one notebook, if she forgot one for herself she would look really dumb. She sat down and looked over the syllabus. "...the notebook is simply for recreational purposes. I want you students to keep a journal. About anything, at it will not be looked over," Rose had never even been allowed to keep any piece of writing about her life or her days as a whole. So she couldn't now. David, trying to mimic her fluency, and doing a pretty good job of it, sat down across from her with his own.
She had no interest in this,, and she pulled over the packet. She realized others were doing the same. The packet was mostly composed of images, as the syllabus says, showing the French flag and other French monuments. There was also a lot of small and large text in boxes. BBRRRIIINNNGG!!! BBRRRIIINNNGG!!! Rose jumped at the bell and grabbed her History book and notebooks from the desk, and tucked the packet into a violet folder, the syllabus into another. She gathered all of the things up and then, as David opened his mouth to speak and started to stand up, she turned with a flourish and fly of her hair and sped out of the room, dodging desks as she went.
David held his hand out to where she had been for a few seconds, then dropped it. As the last of the students filed out, Mr. Denator strode over to the door and shut it quickly. Then he quickly locked it with his key. He also pulled the blinds. Huh, that's strange. Why would he lock it just to yell at me? David thought. Then he quickly strode over to David, whom was drumming his fingers on his desk. "David Sepaicl Kinesse, you listen to ME!" he shouted, grabbing David roughly and unexpectedly up in a grip by his collar, "you stay away from her, you understand, boy? Because by God you better."
"Y-y-yes, s-s-sir," replied David. "I will stay away from her." He said more firmly. David knew that he was making a promise that he could not keep. He could not explain why he was so drawn to this new girl. He didn't even know her name!
"Go" said the teacher, turning around and slicking his hair back. He hunched. "I said go!" He pointed at the door, spinning around. His eyes unmistakably had a bloodshot look to them, and his face was wild. Strands of his combed-back black hair were hanging down over his face. David took his things and sped out of the room as fat as he could possibly go. The teacher was left staring off at him, struck for reasons unknown.
Well that was weird, thought David, King of Ottawa, New Jersey. He didn't talk about disrupting him during class or not paying attention at all, he had only talked about the girl. David was late for class, as usual. Denator hadn't even given him a slip. He hoped that she was in his next class, Social Studies. But how could he be so lucky? He was also surprised that his group didn't wait for him as usual outside. Maybe they were mad that he had sat by her. Most likely. And maybe, just maybe, Denator was something to the girl. He'd have to ask her, if he could get enough courage. He might not even get an answer. But she seemed to like him in both hours. That smile...her voice... He shouldn't think that, a girl like her probably has a boyfriend! It did not seem like that though. He finally made it to Mrs. Mnickle’s class. Now he had to focus on being himself. "Hello, Mrs. Mnickle..."
That David... Rose would cuss out loud if he even did an attempt to flirt with her again. If he was in this class, Rose would not know what to do. Maybe shoot herself. Thank God he wasn't. Rose waited until the class was 30 minutes in to be sure. That Denator could most likely yell, at David, for hours on end. She had also sat in the back to try to be hidden, and now, fuck, she had sat by a boy making goo-goo eyes at her. She looked pleadingly at the teacher. The teacher, Mrs. Frida, and her assistant, Mr. Taft were talking about the human body and this and that and…. God, what was it about that boy? Could it be love? It's stupid, it's silly, and its fake. God. "...and so class, we will be starting tomorrow," Here is my syllabus and..." Syllabus, syllabus. Man. "...it will tell all of our chemistry units. "Then we will go on with normal OHS’s curriculum for physics. we do these things first because we do not want our future to be full of uneducated people.” And blah blah blah.
The rest of the day passed like a blur. Rose did what she had been taught for two centuries. The only other significant things about Rose's day were written in the black notebook at Outdoor Time (you couldn't even call it recess because it was like 3 minutes, and anyways, it sounded elementary). She settled on the grass by a big oak tree. No one approached her, but people looked at her with curiosity. The gossipers snickered and started to approach her, but Ellis grabbed the leader's arm and pulled them back, watching her with a protective look. Then Rose furiously wrote in her notebook.
Rose stopped writing. Students were leaving the park. So Rose dusted herself off and got up. She gathered up her bag, which had her art kit and homework. She carefully tucked the notebook into it, smiling, and the gossipers came up behind her. Rose froze. "Whatcha doin', goth?" She had no idea just how gothic she was. "I said," she said, jolting her chin up violently by the tips of her fingers, "Whatcha doin', goth?" Rose slapped her hand off.
"Who are you, to think you have a right to touch me?" Rose said with the regality of the 1780s and 90s, The French Revolution. She was young then, but still. Her father.
"And who are you to ignore me, goth?" The need burned. She wanted to kill this girl. That rabbit must just not have been enough after all. No, she thought, I can't do this. Not again.
"Listen, just stay away from me, okay, bitch?" The girl stood back with her group, taken aback. Rose drifted away, angry. Then she passed a boy, a boy with fluffy golden hair. He stopped shooting baskets just as she stopped walking. She drew over to him. She couldn't stop. The girls back at the park stared. "Hey," she said, stealing the ball from his dribble with vampire grace and speed. He looked up at her quickly, then at his hands, and then back at her, surprised. Maybe she had done it a little too fast, even for a star athlete. His words to her were:
"Well, I didn't know that you played sports." Rose spun the ball on her finger and walked in a circle around him.
"I don't," she said simply.
"Well, ya should." She should be in seventh hour. But she wasn't.
"Doesn't matter much to me." Rose supplied.
"And what does?" Rose whirled on him and tipped his chin up with her fingers. She rolled the ball away smoothly. She wanted to say you, but her reply was:
"I don't know anymore." Nothing did now but him. Not her reputation, nor her family, nor the rules. Nothing but wanting him, but needing him. Nothing but getting him. Maybe even drinking him. No other boy in her long lifetime had been able to resist her, a vampire. This was like the need, it almost burned just as strong. Then she grabbed her bag and sped off. "I should be going," she said hastily under her breath. He smelled good. Too good. She had to get out of here. The rabbit wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. And it was him. Not again. Not again. Never, never again. She was hyperventilating, and her vision was red around the edges.
"Hey! How about you come over sometime!" It was not a question. He said something else probably valuable to know, but Rose was already halfway down the walk with her speed.
"Perhaps!" She called over her shoulder in a clipped tone. The she went inside the canvas that was supposed to be an art tent/classroom.
It was all very spread out. She was okay now, but she shouldn't be. She shouldn't be. No human should be like that, but he was. Her thoughts moved to a women that looked young, maybe in her mid-twenties, had dark blue hair with lighter tips. It was cut short, and one side was shaved. It flopped when she moved, and some of it was curled or braided. She wore a very long and painted-on smock, and below her shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. She had tight jeans that looked okay, she guessed, and her shirt was striped. Okay.... She had a nose piercing and red sneakers. Rose guessed that she was M(r?)s. Kayt the art teacher, since she was yelling loudly and ordering people to move huge canvases from a wall to aisles of wooden easels, then paint jars from one wall and showing people how to open them. Everything was very neat and looked new. This was OHS’s first year of art, or was it that they had gotten a new teacher? No one seemed to know her. Cool. "No, no Gabriela, open it like this. Yeah, yeah, there you go. No, no, Dantèoeo, you only need one canvas and go to an easel, no, it doesn't matter where you go, no. Paintbrushes are by the paints, adjoining wall, Violatia. Yes, yes, there. OKAY, EVERYBODY, STOP!" Everybody turned and stared at her with shocked looks. A boy dropped his canvas. An easel collapsed. A girl dropped her paint pot. It shattered red. Rose almost drooled. It got on the girl's sneakers. "Aw, Alia'ya, look what you did now." Ms. Kayt said, stooping to sop up the unused, new paint with her smock. Someone produced a rag, which received a breathless thank you. Then she rose. "I'm sorry, everyone. But all you do in this class today is find an easel, in an aisle," Ha, " and grab a canvas from over there," pointing, " and paints behind me, " pointed, " and a brush here," pointed. "You can paint whatever you want. That's how it is, every day. Tomorrow will be clays. Go!" She waved her hands around, then sat in a corner and sighed, head drooping, as the questions piled up.
"Rose! Roo-oose!" Called a familiar voice. Rose turned to see Ellis standing by two easels in a shady corner. Perfect. They both had canvases, Rose saw, before she went to get some. Ellis came over and took her bag and put it over there, signifying that those easels were taken. Then they went together to the paint crowds. Rose found her way through easily, Ellis following close behind. "So," Ellis said, "Kinesse, really?" Rose took paints, yellow, blue, white, black, peach, they had all of the colors that she mindlessly grabbed and, for some reason, needed.
"What? No!" Rose said going back, but she blushed as Ellis grabbed purple and followed her out to the easels. They dropped the paints. She was reminding Rose of a golden retriever dog now.
"Yes," Ellis said as she grabbed a medium and fine paintbrush. They went back.
"What proof do you have, though?" Rose said, giving up on denial. She popped the lids easily, and took one from Ellis as she struggled. No one payed attention to them but for side-eyed glances. Rose dipped her brush into the black as she also did the water, and used the thin one. Then, on her blank canvas, swiped. Swipe, swipe. Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe swipe. Then she washed it out, not looking at what she had done. She was regal at it, she had done it forever. Even as a young vampire girl in preschool.
"I saw you go to him at the courts. You didn't have to do that. I saw you play with him. I saw you touch him. Rose, do you think I'm stupid?" Rose picked up the thick brush, and then dipped it in water and the peach. Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. Round it out. Rose stopped, startled. There had been no witnesses. She had used her senses. But maybe she had let down her guard, though. "I could tell that you want to kiss him. You could have, you know." Ellis had been using black, then white, then black again, in a curvier and longer but same looking shape as whatever she was painting.
"You don't know that." Rose averted her eyes to other parts of the tent. It was chatty, and almost no one was running about anymore. She rinsed the brush. Mrs. Kayt was yelling about using empty paint jars as water dishes. They were tiny enough. She was doing that, she realized. She used the same brush in the yellow, but something about it seemed wrong. Dull. Humph. She took a dab and mixed it with a small amount of light brown from someone else's stand. It was good enough, so she did it again: swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, turn, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe.
"I do." Rose turned, and Ellis was staring at her. Giving her the hole-boring stare. Rose stared at the floor, half-turning back. She didn't bother asking how, Ellis was the third most mysterious person she'd ever know, next to her dad and now David. She'd know many people, but never, never one that's mind that she couldn't read besides David's. She had just realized this.
"So what do you know about him?" Rose said, resuming painting. She didn't look up, but took a thin black now, and drew four curved lines high up. She took the blue, and it felt wrong. But she used it anyways, drawing deep, deep circles. Ellis used the same motions, but frowning as she used purple, then white, and they both grabbed the pot at the same time, Ellis consumed in thought and Rose just waiting tersely for an answer. They both burst out laughing and dipped their brushes at the same time, then painted oval, thin but filled ovals.
"Um, well, I have a small list of thing that I know about him now. It may be small, sort of, I really never paid any attention to him." Right. Rose took someone's light red, and drew a thin, curved line. Then used the black after she rinsed her brush. She had that almost-done feeling. Ellis also did the same motions, but used peach instead of red.
"Go on." Rose said.
"Okay, um, well..."
"Go on already." Rose glanced and glared, but when Ellis turned also and sheepishly looked up, she grinned. "It's okay, just say it." Ellis looked and smiled a little.
"Okay, so he moved here when he was just a newborn. He lives with his aunt, Emily, his mother died in childbirth. I think before they lived in California, a small, polluted, actually very polluted, area off of Los Angeles. Mrs. Frick lived there for two years, she said that it rained twice. Ask her about it if you want, she loves talking about it, already twice this year. She also hinted that kids are stupid there. Also, I don’t know how he can be so absolutely gorgeous," Rose gave her such a frightening glare, Ellis looked white and coughed. "To go on," Rose relaxed, "she lives in an apartment in the restaurant that she owns in Utah. He misses her a lot. He lives in a small house off the school by the courts. He earns money by playing major league baseball already, but sometimes helps her for no cost. He gets major money. You have to see him to get it, he catches great and throws, I guess, okay. His grades have never dropped below an A-. He never shows off or picks on anyone. He has all that entourage, but he stays to himself and has no real friends. You're the closest anyone's been to him in months. He eats a fine lunch, and always has nice clothes. He doesn't like any girls, but they've tried. But not me," she added hastily, "And you may be an exception. And he never gets hurt. Not even a scrape or a paper cut. And he never coughs, or burps, or anything normal. And he never sneezes or pants. He always go to the doctor and dentist over the weekends, and never had braces or even a cavity. He never misses school, so he's never sick, and always goes to church," her voice increased speed. "And, that’s all." Her voice slowed, then stopped. She panted.
"Good, thanks. But I don't love him. You have absolutely no good proof." Rose said. It sounded like a vampire to her, but it couldn't be. It couldn't. She realized that after she had finished a whole lot of swiping dark green paint near the bottom, she had flipped the canvas and stolen someone's pencil to make a bullet-point list. She flipped it, horror-struck.
"That's my proof."
She had painted David.
His crooked smile to his golden fluffball of hair to the pure, pure blue eyes and dark green tee, Rose had used her many talents to make a perfect David portrait. Rose's vision reddened. It was a deep red now, and she glanced around wildly. No. Not here, not now. She was surrounded by people, and Ellis was closest to her. She smelled good, very good, almost as good as David. Rose had to leave. Her throat burned dry. She grabbed her bag, and then the portrait, and ducked out of the tent, vampire-speeding to the house. On the way out, she saw Ellis's canvas.
It was an incredible replica of her.
Rose had left very quickly, Ellis thought. She was walking home with her portrait, and she passed a fluffy blond head. The hottie himself, David. "Ellis! Get over here! I need info, now!"
"I gotcha David." Ellis crossed over to the courts. "So what on?" She asked.
"Um, Rose." He looked sheepish, cutely moving his toes and staring at them. His face was red, and he looked up, a smile blossoming over his face.
"Let me think for a second." Ellis did not think that his demand was odd at all. He did not tell her to take her time, or take a few hoops. "Well, I heard that she got here last night from Florida, and on my morning walk today, I saw her house and parents. She is neighboring your aunt, by the forest. The house wasn't there before, but that can't be, there was no construction site, and it looks very old. Here, let me write this down" Ellis said. She went to get a notebook, but David was already writing in one.
Ellis handed the notebook to David. "That's it" she said. David added a few more things in his own script.
Then Ellis sped off.
She had left behind a flipped canvas. David took it and the notebook and left, leaving the basketball rolling away.
Rose never slowed until she got to the woods. At the edge, she dropped her things, and ran. After hunting, she avoided her parents, as she had the...canvas. She had been surprised that she had not been discovered. She leapt up her slide exit agilely. Once in, she looked around, and then, because it was late day and no one was around, she tore her nails into the steel wall. It screeched loudly. After cutting a perfect canvas-sized hole, she slipped the canvas into it. She left, locking the door, and then went into her sister's room. "Melissa!" She called.
"Yy-ee-ss?!" Came from somewhere unseen.
"The slide is letting too much light into my room! May I have your window curtains please?"
"Speaking of that, sister, Dad says that we all must get new curtains. The humans are watching," Melissa said, walking in. "So I have these new dark one's for you, and there are some for your slide and walk, and a cover for your ramp, and a spare." Rose did not protest, she needed these. She said thanks as she took the velvety dark purple curtains large and long and small and short. Then she put them all on one arm and on her ramp put up the four corner poles and hung the curtain, tucking the bottom in and wrapping it. Then she put it on the tower door and slide and took the extra, then hooked it on a rod that she now cut from the door that she had cut and made holders by stabbing one into the wall and making a hole in the other to hook it on to hold the canvas, the rod on top. It draped over the canvas almost perfectly. That took up the extra steel. Rose hung her Do Not Disturb Me sign, then laid back in the dark as twilight fell, staring at the portrait, trying to figure him out. She just couldn't. She got an idea as night fell and people went asleep, although her father had tried to contact her with his mind, she was full, or so she told him, at least that was truth. She had decided to go spy on David. She was solid in her decision. Then maybe, better yet, after fifteen minutes go inside. She had been invited, hadn't she? She knew where he lived, so why not, right? She peeked out of her curtain, covered the painting, and then slid down the slide as quietly as possible. Then, all senses aware, snuck off into the falling darkness. However, she did forget about her father.
Rose had said that she was full, Adam thought. Must have been an almost-accident at school, and she had gone hunting afterward. But then why am I so uneasy? I have to go check on Rose. I must go check on Rose.
Rose slipped behind a tree as a jogging couple passed, eyeing her. She peered back at the not-so-far-away house. Then she snuck across the courts to David's house. She peered inside. There he sat, staring at something on his wall. But what? A painting? Yes, yes, a painting...
Adam marched through the house, rattling it. He already somehow knew her activities. Stella started from her laundry, almost dropping the basket onto the living room floor, but quickly looked away, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. She tried to close her mouth with her hands, setting down the basket. With her pink curtains, Melissa did the same. They looked at each other when he was gone, but just looked back at where he had been. Angelo dropped a toy truck in his parent's bedroom and just stared. Adam managed a smile for him, and slowed and quieted his steps, but then just looked worried and sped up. His footsteps clanged on the ramp, waking people in New York. He drew back the curtains. He saw no Rose, and had an all-outrageous fit, clanging the walls and growling loudly. Lights blinked on.
At Rose's spot, David jumped. But why? She had been studying him for almost forty-five minutes now, and just could not understand. He seemed so intent. She saw something black steering towards her. Her father, oh, no! "Shit" Rose muttered. She backed away from the house just in time for a gigantic force to hit her from behind. It dragged her across the Earth, leaving muddy ruts in the baseball field and kicking it up over them. Then it stopped. Shit, shit, oh oh oh, shit.
"Do you know," he growled, "what you are risking?" He blocked her airways with his arm as she struggled to get up.
" Yes," she said, "Yes, dad."
"Do not even try it again, do you hear me? Don't," he added, running out of steam. "Now, come on," he said, gripping her by the elbow and lifting her up with him.
David heard the loud boom like steel on steel bricks. He dashed to the window just in time to see two things that were shaped like humans driving ruts into the baseball field, kicking up mud over themselves. He heard muted yelling. Then one muscular form lifted up the slighter one on the ground by the elbow. They passed his house, and he saw shining black hair and a flash of violet eyes. He recognized her even with mud on and a quickly yanked around head. Rose Niotreizé. And then a long, red glare by a cold, cold man. The father.
The notebook, David thought. Must. Get. Notebook. He scrambled for the notebook on the nightstand, and while gazing at the picture of her, wrote more:
- Loud noises coming from direction of house, April 2nd, twilight.
- Tackled by father, April 2nd, night, by David Kinesse's house.
- Strong.
So she is usually doing activities at night, she is... indestructible, she never ages, she works wonders/has superpowers, and is very mysterious and beautiful. What is she? David had a feeling he knew.
Rose went to school the next day. She had a feeling that David knew, but went anyways. She was late because she hunted big that morning, but it was worth it. Her parents were quiet about last night's incident. Mr. Kufnu marked her tardy with a sigh and she sat down. David was trying not to eye her, she felt it, for she was very aware. Then she remembered, shit, she hadn't done her homework. As Kufnu was talking, the so far quiet Ellis scooted over to her and ripped notes for pages 7-17 (as titled) out of her notebook. Rose was about to refuse, then looked over and saw that Ellis had other also handwritten copies. Rose was not paying attention, but then glanced down and saw the highlights. Ellis's didn't have that. But she had scooted away.
Rose could not put the pieces together. Why Ellis cared, or why her father was always angry and mad and scared. But why? Suddenly she had a vision, the classroom was gone. She saw a young woman with blonde hair, a human. She saw a vampire, dark haired and menacing, coming towards her. In the corner was a little boy, about two years old. He was a vampire, she could tell by the dark hair. The young human woman held a small, dark haired newborn vampire, who struggled in her arms as she concealed the child. The vampire walked towards the woman, ripped the child from her arms, and sucked her blood in front of the two year old son. The son screamed, struggled for his mother but was thrown back. The father of the two boys looked up with a gleam in his red eyes, his mouth covered in the woman he raped’s blood. She startled back to present day. Why?! Because her father was that little two year old boy, conceived by a rapist and no one knew or cared, his mother must've loved him so even though she didn't want him, and then the father came back just in time to give him a brother, staying with them until the other son was born and then killing his mother? She saw it all now. Or most of it. She just needed to know what he was scared and mad at still? And he had never said if his parents were vampires. And if he had a brother, where was the younger brother now?
As Ellis went to follow Rose, she was pulled back by a surprisingly strong arm. Then she was led by a figure shrouded in shadows down the corridor. In an alcove by the back of the school there was a boarded up door. It was empty here, and the custodians clearly did not visit here. The figure revealed itself to her. It was David in the weak sunlight from the doors.
"David!" Ellis gasped as he put a strong hand over her mouth.
"Shhhhhhh," he said. "Yes, it's me. And I've figured out Rose's mystery."
In French, Ellis nor David had showed up yet. Great. And as Rose came in, all time had seemed to slow as she walked past Denator. His mouth had slowly dropped, eyes suddenly wider. Then he sped out of the room. Vampire speed. Rose had been contemplating him all hour. David's group was eyeing her, as was Ellis's gossipers. But she did not care. As he turned, looking startled, she saw his eyes. His eyes were storm-cloud gray, with a hint of red. She'd know them anywhere... Rose shot up, apparently going up to him and asking to use the restroom. He grudgingly obliged. His hair was black. The planes of his face were the same. The planes of his body were the same. She shot out, vampire speed, of the room. That one day that he had steered around her as she was vampire speeding with no apparent exertion. Her father's brother. She went to leave the back of the building more inconspicuously. But she was stopped with strong arms. "Let me go, you evil monster!" She screamed.
"Whoa, whoa, hey now, let's not get testy here."
"David?"
"Now what made you so frightened. You, a vampire?"
"David! David..."
"Yes, I know, Rose. And so does Ellis."
"Oh, nooooooo" Rose moaned.
"Oh yes. Where were you going, and what were you running from?"
"Denator," she gasped, "my father's...brother."
"Hmmm. Now that's a problem, isn't it?"
"Oh, David." She sank in his arms.
“Not here, Rose. Ellis is here,” Rose glanced sharply at the sheepish Ellis, "And WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!" David's voice rose, for Denator walked sharply round the corner. His dress shoes clacked loudly, and he slicked back a single strand of his jet-black hair.
"Now get up kiddies, and back to class," he said cheerfully with menace. He gripped David by the elbow and tried to shake him from Rose, but he hardly moved. David glanced at Ellis, pleading. He dared not move and let go of Rose, and running would make him more vulnerable. So, as he did that glance, Denator followed it, and in a quick leap he grabbed Ellis up. "I could snap her neck now," he grunted, "unless you drop her and follow me. Now."
David dropped Rose. She slid away from him, and she pleaded at him, reaching. But he stood and went to Denator, defeated. But instead of going back to class, Denator pulled Ellis roughly towards the boarded-up alcove. He tore the boards off loudly, Ellis still in his arms. "You," he told Rose, "will stay in this bubble." He formed a sort of invisible mind-bubble around her, and he went through the door.
Inside it was a dusty old science lab. "You will rot here," Denator said. And he left, slowly nailing the boards back up. Then he shoved Ellis inside on the last one.
Rose was crying silently, letting the tears stream. Denator released the shield and grabbed her roughly. Then she was pinned on the floor. "I've been wanting this for some time now," he said. Then he shrugged off his black tuxedo jacket. He roughed up his hair, and his eyes flashed red. "Waiting, watching." He undid his red tie. The he started unbuttoning his shirt. Oh, God. No. No. He was going to rape her.
"Ah, hell, oh, God," she gasped involuntarily. In a way, he was beautiful. But he started to unbutton his pants and slide that and his shoes and socks off. Oh, Dad. Please help. She was unaware that she was sending a message. As he was pulling off his underwear, he got hit. She had heard the whooshing coming, but he had apparently...been too busy. Her hair swung in a slight breeze, and she knew that it was under control. She sat back and relaxed. Then, by the door, when both men were preoccupied with each other, the boards came off in David's hands.
"Rose!" He called, and scooped her up. She pushed him off with human strength, looking at her father. He nodded slightly. Meanwhile, the two men had backed against the wall, her father on top.
"Ver," her father growled. "I didn't think you'd come back." Ver?
"I do have a right to see my be-you-TI-FUL nieces," he responded. Denator had been caught off guard, pulling off his underwear, so they were halfway down his legs, restricting them, and making them more vulnerable because he was also almost all naked. Rose tried to avert her eyes. David was enjoying it, and Ellis was outside, full-out throwing up. Her father was repeatedly kneeing his legs, and Denator's knees looked about to give out. Growls echoed down the hall. Oh, no, the school?! He had him in a headlock with his hands, and as he struggled, gave him a few face punches. Hard. He was stunned for a second. Then he shook his head and got back, but it was too late. Her father had twisted his head back and just plunged his fangs down, not going the less-painful human/animal side variation. Right into the base of the neck. He screamed, a guttural scream, as his blood was drawn out by his own brother against his will. The screams quieted, then slowed, and then stopped altogether.
"Hello? Hello!" Called a voice that Rose recognized as Mr. Kufnu himself. He was two turns away, good. "Hell-oo!"
"Mr. Kufnu! Hi! It's Rose Niotreizé!" She ran as fast as she could to him, then soon stopped. "Hi!"
"Rose! You sure got here fast. What is all of that growling and screaming, please?"
"Oh...that's some wild dogs! Yeah, wild dogs. Yeah, wild dogs! I heard it on my way to the restroom from Mr. Denator's French class, and I heard the screaming and growling, so I went to check it out. They were fighting, but they are going OUTSIDE NOW. Yeah, OUTSIDE NOW," She looked around the corner, pleading to nothingness. Shrrrrpppp. Denator's head was most likely being torn off. A screech. A squeaking, so the body was being thrown across the floor. Then a loud banging. Inside the boarded door, then. Hushed voices. Boards clanking. A faint whooshing. Most too quiet for Kufnu's ears. "Heh, heh," she rubbed her bare arms. "So yeah, let's go see, now that they left, if you want to?"
"You shouldn't have checked or gotten us. We were worried. Very. All of us teachers. But I couldn't find Mr. Denator" Yeah, I'm sure you were, and by the way, we just killed your friend, Denator, Rose thought. They went there, but nothing was there. No blood, her father had sucked him clean and left, no more than that. David and Ellis? She didn't know. She was zoned out and only the back of her mind cared while Kufnu was there. Soon he said, "Well, okay," and left, Rose said she still had to go but would stay for a while. He took it as emotions. When he was well away, whistling, she took out the placed-on boards Kufnu had shook. She wanted to laugh at Denator, her torturer, her tormentor. David looked up from inside, and Rose started. He was with no one, sitting by Denator, hand in lap.
"What are you doing? Where's Ellis?" She asked accusingly, hand on hip.
"Hello to you too, I am so glad you're alive too, and your father is one scary fucking man."
"Answers?"
"Your scary as-all-fuck father just fucking left, and Ellis is outside barfing up her lunch and breakfast.
"One: That was some major fucks. Two: We gotta go back to class.”
"Simple enough."
"I'm baa-aaackk!" Ellis called. Coming in like a hurdler, she was like, "Rose? You came back, you silly vampire!" And gave her a big hug.
"Shhhhhhhhh, of course (she)(I) did," said Rose and David at the same time. They were all quite as she whispered:
"Sorry,"
"Your secret is safe with us," he said, as if reading her mind.
"Uh-huh," Ellis said, nodding, as Rose glanced at her. Rose's eyes relaxed.
She realized that she did want to kiss David, good. Bad. Then David took a body bag from the wooden cabinet and dripping sink. He put Denator's pieces inside, with Rose's help, and then put the stone-heavy bag into the cabinet again. He felt hard and grainy, thought Rose, so he must already be turning to stone and disintegrating, then. "No one will find him here until Ottawa runs out of money and the school gets knocked down," David said.
"What if they go through it?"
"In Ottawa? Ha. Okay, Ellis, let's go."
"I trust you wiped their memories, or better yet, tranced them before?" Ellis jumped into David's arms, both were surprised, and Rose was clearly caught off guard.
"Uh, no, dad, I didn't" Rose said, rubbing her crossed bare arms.
"Then I will, quickly." His eyes glowed red.
"Wait! Wait, I mean, uh, no dad, I will. I've got them down, and this boy has been a pain. The girl too. It's good practice..." She said.
"Okay then Rose," he crossed his arms. "You do it. But quickly." He didn't ask why they were here in the first place. Just teens being bad teens, he thought.
"Dad, you should go. To make sure that if we are found, then it doesn't look bad," she said.
"Oo-kay..." He looked wary, but jumped out of the window. Ellis tried to stop him, but he avoided the puke warily. "I see what you mean!" he called over his shoulder. Then, when Rose heard he was gone, cautioning them, she let out some power.
"Let's go," she finally said. She hadn't wiped their minds.
They did not get in trouble, so the rest of the day was uneventful. They didn't talk, but David glanced warily. Ellis looked excited, but did not directly look at her. They went to third hour, and were all marked tardy. David told Rose of his detention. Kufnu did not care, only to ask about Denator to them, rumors swarmed. His class was cancelled. All students were given a note packet from the last year. No one asked them anything, but whispered and stared.
Right after school, the whole family met up with Rose at the office. They walked up the steps inside. They were at their time. The doctor came to greet them and had Angelo cross a squiggly sight/balance bar, he did okay. Her father was not permitted now because of power use. He glared at Rose. They took Angelo's weight, and had him stand outside for a sight test. He had a brain growth block identification test with animals, and also with a choice of slides. They also checked his height. Then it was her turn, her father did not object for power. She crossed the bar, no hands easily, her height was the normal 5'9, she did the sight test okay, slides and blocks easily, and weight was 170 pounds exactly. They did the rest of her family, Melissa chatted with the doctor and did perfect, same for Stella. "Dad," she said.
"Yes Rose?" Impatiently.
"Since my teacher's tragic accident, his class was cancelled, and I must read this one note packet here," she waved.
"We'll stay Rose," he said.
"No, no, dad, I'll be awhile, it's, like, more than 30 pages."
"Okay Rose, if you insist." They were gone in a flash. It wasn't all lies, she did have something to do, but did have to read the packet. In the waiting room she did, as the lights dimmed. Her father talked in her mind, and checked when she did not answer. She didn't want to hunt, she wanted to read. She was interested, she was involved. Because it, too, was highlighted. But this time, at the bottom, a note:
Here's the just, sure saves you a lot of reading, Love, Ellis
Good to know, I guess, Rose thought at the end of her reading. She probed with her mind. Her father was out hunting. Good, he wouldn't probe or feel her doing what she was doing. The doctors were gone. She slipped into the Medical Records room, stacked with tall shelves of records and papers, she found the file under ”N”. She pulled out her father’s history record.
Vermont Denator and Adam Niotreizé
Wince.
A rapist man won a human woman in a gamble. He raped her when they got to his farmhouse. Since he was evil, a rarity, the black cells created a vampire offspring and turned himself into a vampire, The man left for three years. Adam Niotreizé was born a year later after the rape, he grew with his mother as a child and she loved him and cared for him well. When Adam was two, his father came home. He raped his mother again and stayed until she bore another son, Vermont Denator. The night Vermont was born, the father killed the mother in front of Adam. Vermont never knew his mother’s kindness but only his fathers cruel ways, and became evil himself.
How horrible, Rose thought. Now she understood why her father was so crazy and so mean. She carefully put back the folder and went outside. She had one destination, and blocked her mind, hard and painful. She had never tried before, but now it was important.
She was going to David's house.
Knock, knock, knock. Softly. She heard him faintly start, then relax as he opened the door a crack. "Rose!" He said. "Come in!"
"Shhhhh," she said, finger to her lips. Then she crept inside through the crack of light. He shut the door behind her.
"What are you doing-" She went to the bedroom, dragging her fingers across the comfortable bed, glancing quickly around.
"David, you have to trust me on this," silently, he stood very straight and still. "You already know that I love you. More than anything ever, even my cover."
"Wow, uh, that's great, uh..." His face was red and he was repeatedly combing back his hair with his fingers. Even fluffier. She spotted her picture on the plain, large and roomy living room wall, in the center. Either he commanded or asked Ellis, or it was a gift. "So, uh," he said.
"So, uh, I just need to know the important thing, that you like me the same. Truly." She looked so cute, fists together, body swaying slightly, arms swinging. Her expressions was that of a child's, so innocent. Then her large eyes turned flat to violet-red ice, and she stopped swaying. Her hands clenched to fists. "You. Don't?" He had been stalling, but it had only been a few seconds. "When you held me... it was FAKE?!" His expression turned soft and he stopped as Rose's eyes turned full red and crouched.
"Rose! Rose! Of course I do!" He said. She relaxed a little before leaping halfway.
"You...do?"
"Yes, of course, of course I do."
"Then why? Why did you stall?"
"Rose, Rose, I'm worried about you. About you getting caught."
"Oh. Okay." She relaxed completely. "Do you truly, totally, ultimately trust me?"
"Rose, I would give my life for you. So relax, vampire. And I trust you, or I wouldn't be here."
"Trust me. And tell me if I hurt you, okay. I'll stop." It was a promise that she couldn't keep.
"Okay, but wait, Rose-"
She slid her shirt off, more like whipped it sideways, over her head, flopping her long, dark, hair. Her eyes and face were glowing. Carefully keeping the mind block in place almost effortlessly.
"What the-" David started, but he took a sharp intake of breath at her. Her stomach planes were flat-muscled, she was so gorgeous, long, slim legs, curvy figure, and she spun happily to show him everything. Then she glared. He figured it out later, she could glare for awhile, meaner and meaner, David a stupid, helpless human under her. But soon he pulled his shirt off the same way, and quickly stumbled over his pants. He stood in them, a pool at his feet, but she kicked them across the room on her toes. Her strong legs flexed. "Were you on track-" he started, but she said
"Shhhh," putting a finger to her lips. "Vampire, remember?" She whispered.
"Oh, yes," he said. "Okay then." He had almost forgotten her perfections. He climbed on top of her.
"Are you ready?” she sighed
“I never will be, so yes,” he breathed against her, in her ears.
And it happened, and as it did, all her troubles and worries and the rest of her entire life faded away into him, she loved him and he loved her and that was all that mattered.
The next day she woke at dawn in his arms. "SHIT!" Her parents had totally noticed her missing by now. David did not wake. He said mmmmm. She did not want to wake this peaceful human, the man she loved, so she gently unwound his arms, and then got on her clothes vampire-speed. She ran to the bathroom to find a hairbrush, any type, she prayed. She found a tortoiseshell for his fluffs, odd that she automatically knew where the bathroom was. She had to search, and strewn some stuff, male hair products and razors, it was on the floor clanging, and she was hyperventilating. When she came, she had not thought of doing anything that long. She found some spray deodorant after wrenching through her hair, then throwing the clumps away. She sprayed herself all over a lot until the bottle was empty, threw it across the room, had it hit the tiling, made an excuse in her head if she got caught, smelled herself to make sure that she had masked David, and although it was still there it was all she could do. She also washed her hands. Then she ran, without leaving a note, carefully and slowly shutting the door because, although the can, he was still deeply sleeping. She remembered that he was busy, very busy, all night, and blushed. Running across the courts in the breaking dawn, vampire-speed, there was one thing that appeared on the horizon. Everybody else was asleep.
"RRRROOOOO-OOOOSSSEEEE!!!!" Oh, God. He was pissed. They met up, and he grabbed her by the forearms and shook her roughly. "What. Were. You. Doing!?" He growled and half-screamed.
"Dad, it's not what you think..."
"Oh yes it is," shit, "You were watching the blonde sleep again, weren't you?" Oh. Rose hung her head in fake shame.
"Yes, dad."
"And blocking your mind? That is so advanced. No. Last time I warned you. You need to control yourself. You're going to Stella's sister Mic'kauyla. For 6 months."
"But dad..." Panicked. She had never met this aunt, she was probably absolutely horrid. For a shapeshifter.
"And that's final. She lives in Utah. You will leave with me holding you vampire speed with nothing but clothes and curtains. Got it?"
"Yes, dad." She gave up on trying. It seemed for forever. She had no time to tell anyone, not David or even Ellis. And it was no use making noise, he was fast asleep, and anyways, either way he would try to rescue her and die. She hoped that Ellis would figure it out. She's smart. And she was still shielding her thoughts. He vampire-sped her to the house by the elbow, and she was forced to go with him. "Go to the doctor's each month, you hear me? Go." Rose did not protest when they reached the house. It rattled in his anger, and her mother, down in the kitchen, dropped a bowl of muffin batter all over her shoes and pants and apron. She hurriedly went to clean it up. Melissa slid down her pole, hearing the hard-tiled clang, and tried to help and sooth her mother, she had seen them a while away from atop her perch, so she knew. That left them almost home-free, but Angelo did his arm thing. Her father kicked him over the railing into Melissa's arms. He cried. Rose gasped. They marched to her room. Her father went to take down David's curtain, and... "NO! No, dad, I can pack from here, it's okay, it's fine, I've got it." Her dad looked suspicious, and went to pull it down again. She grabbed it and said, "Why don't you go and get my emergency suitcase from the basement? Heh, heh." He did, glancing back. When he was gone she took her few things, all black, purple, and blue clothes, and she tucked the David canvas inside the layers. It stretched them, but it looked hidden. Out of the corner of her eyes, Rose saw her map of the world by the slide. All of the places she wanted to go were marked off. "Utah, Utah," she muttered, fingers gliding. Then she found it. Right next to California. And she had unconsiously marked it off. I think before they lived in California, a small, polluted, actually very polluted, area off of Los Angeles. She lives in a house/restaurant in Utah. Ellis's voice rang in her head. "Oh, my God." She would go there then. What else to do? Her father was coming up the ladders loudly, lugging her suitcase. She quickly, vampire-speed, took down all of her curtains. She took David's portrait's, and hoped that no one would notice the huge, gaping hole in the wall. He got there.
"Here," he grunted, dropping it on her feet.
"Owww," she said, even though it really didn't hurt that much.
"Sorry," he grunted. He wasn't, it was obvious. "So now I must check your stuff, Miss. Mischievous." Uh oh.
"Uh, dad, how about school? I need to learn."
"You know this stuff already."
"No, I don't. Ottawa's different, Dad."
"How different?"
"Uh, just, it has different curriculum, Dad. Would I lie?"
"Yes, you would. Now what curriculum?" He leaned in her face, rank breath in all, and growled gruffly.
"It tells you chemistry. That is not offered by other schools."
"Oh, well, okay. Only science?"
"Yes, be sure to get it all!" He softened and leaned back, satisfyingly licked his lips with a darting tongue.
"I'll go."
"Please grab some art clay!"
"Sure, because I'm your errand man." She added,
"I also didn't finish Denator's papers..."
"I noticed." He was back soon, somehow, he must have seduced...Mrs. F! That old crab... Thank God she was away from that boy by her. He gave her a note and activity packet. He then said, "Hurry up, we have to go now," before your mother protests. She finished the thought. Yes, her mother was very protective of her. And the others, she thought. "Now...start...packing," he growled. She carefully tucked the clothes into the flopped-open suitcase at her feet, good, the canvas fit. Just right. She tucked in the curtains and notes. When she zipped it up, she was pulled up roughly by the arm, suitcase in hand. She reached around for something, anything but her father, but her other arm was grabbed and put by the other one on the suitcase handle. Then they jumped down the slide, her being pulled by her father and gravity. He took all of the impact on his perfect feet at a perfect stop, and then glanced around before going vampire-speed to the east. The wonderful world blurred around her, almost blue like the Millennium Falcon's hyperspace. With stars. It was still day when she reached a roadside shack with a wire fence around it.
"Heh, heh. Good old Aunt Mic'kauyla," her father said. From the picture on the sign, Mic'kayula had aged while her mother had not. Funny. "Well," her father hesitated at the ramshackle door and softly knocked. The door opened a crack immediately, creaking.
"Well, whaddaya want?"
"Mic'kayula, it's Adam. My...daughter..." He said through his teeth, as if embarrassed by her. As usual, she knew it. "Is advanced. Yes. Well, advanced."
"How advanced? And which one?" Finally the head of her aunt peered out. The blue-green eyes were searching, hair erratic in its red-blond color and wavy-curl style, white button-up shirt with collar and dark blue rolled-up jeans, too. She wiped her dark hands on them unthinkingly. Her face was long, hard, and pale with freckles. Her eyebrows arched, front teeth showing without thought. She also had thin lips, and her neck was slim. Good for biting, but painful for her. Her father slapped her back. Keeping an eye on her thoughts, then, huh? She blocked them. He frowned.
"Rose," her expression dawned into angry understanding, uh oh, "and she's blocking her mind."
"Oh. Oh." He motioned to the great, split oak tree with his hands. Only for her. It was shady there, by the fence. Rose obediently waited as she got it and they went there, out of even vampire hearing range.
"Mic'kayula, be serious for once. She's been watching a human sleep."
"Oh, no," she gasped, hand over mouth. She was horrified.
"Oh, yes. And it's a boy."
"Oh, shit," she gasped involuntarily. "Not on my watch. . "Do you... do you think that they did anything?”
"No, no, no, of course not! I saw her, I swear. So will you watch her for 6 months? She can't go outside California, and doctor's at least every month," he said, finally coming out to her and just laying down the equation.
"Uhhhhhhh. Okay, Adam. But not for you. Never for you. Only for my dear, stupid sister and reckless, helpless niece. Got it?" He didn't bother answering or arguing. He'd tried, about 5,000 years earlier. When he had met Stella. Stella's older sister was her only caring family. Who hoo. Lucky him. At least this time he did not ram her into a tree. And split it. She seemed like an actually good aunt, for the time being. God, he sure hoped that she would be serious with his Rose. His. Rose. And she was forever his. Forever.
Her father had left her with some caring instructions, to which she listened to of no avail, and his leave was not a sad one.
Mic'kayula hurried her inside with an 'aunt's caring touch'. How was she her mother's sister? Maybe the bad side. No, not bad just rough, like that vampire Damon she had read about in The Vampire Diaries by Lisa Jane Smith... Mic'kayula turned abruptly, shook her shoulders, looked her in the eye and said, "Stop thinking about me. And don't call me Mic'kayula. It's aunt."
"Shapeshifters don't read minds..." She started, but was cut off.
"You're right, they don't. But me, for me, it's just kind of a special thing I do, okay?"
"You're part vampire..."
"YEAH! I mean, uh, yeah, I am. I'm only your mother's half-sister, okay?" Her voice rose. "My father..." Her breath was ragged, "And Stella's mother were married, but he walked out on her when I was three. Okay?"
"Yeah, we're okay, auntie. Let's go."
The door rickety-ly opened by a slight push, and it was a soft darkness. Rose was not surprised and didn't even have to adjust. The hall was short, matter-of-fact, and you could never guess from the outside that the shack was so big inside. An illusion, then. The wall were a creamy white, with a baise carpeting, fluffy, she noted. There were white nightstands with drawers at regular intervals, a clear potted vase with assorted purple flowers inside. Down the hall was an open door, a cleanly kitchen, bright yellow with white painted cabinets and tiling, and a wooden table, flowered windowsills and stove and oven, a dishwasher, sink and blue-flecked plates, cups, china, and polished silverware. Light streamed in. Opposite a few corners down on the left, was a shut door, and further an open guest room. She pushed Rose in and left for the other room without a word, spinning quickly. Rose heaved a sigh and walked in, shutting the door behind her quietly. Then she got excited. California! Utah! She thought, blocking. Continuing her investigation. Even though she had had sex with David, she didn't know him through and through, only in the literal sense. She would have to be careful around auntie, though. She heaved her suitcase on the bed, threw the curtains in a corner. She flipped the portrait and put it in the closet, on a conveniently placed nail. Too convenient. She would have to cover it later. But not now. Whatever. Papers thrown in the top dresser drawer, scattered, suitcase put by the nightstand with clothes still inside, flopped onto the now unmade bed. She got sick of the quiet. Flopping up in a backflip, she opened the door and crept down the dimly lit hall. And slowly, quietly, ever so, knocked on the opposite door. "WHAT!?"
"Uh, auntie? Can I go get some snacks from the General Store?"
"Sure, I'll show you the way. Come on." She peeked out, waving her hand.
"No, I got it. I'll be awhile anyways. Bye." She rushed out, waving. Her aunt retreated, suspicious. Good, she was so naive, like her father, she blocking-ly thought with a sense of dejá-vu. Skipping back to her room, she grabbed a fluffy but light purple coat from her suitcase, and stumbled outside still shrugging it on. Vampires didn't usually get chills, but today, as she traveled past empty parks and buildings and cars, walking in the center of the road, the only thing she heard was leaves rustling, and although it was spring, and it was supposed to be hot here, it was like winter. The air made her throat burn, and her eyes sting, and whipping against her face it dried her skin. Zipping up her coat, shoving her hands in her pockets, and huddling into her now-raised hood, she knew that now she was only cold of loneliness. Bodies against her were clearly the bomb.
The General Store was at the curve of the road. Quickening her pace, she got there in a matter of minutes. It slightly warmed her to enter the airy but cramped store, it had an air of slight familiarity, like Florida's souvenir shops. It was crammed with candy and beach supplies, and chips, but at the bell jingling and Rose's hood dropping the cashier across the store shivered. Rose gusted around with the girl watching her the whole time. She picked up many things, as her father had stocked her with money for 'necessary means'. She had trouble deciding on the best headphones, then grabbed some clear earbuds. With earbuds, you need a device, so Rose got the oldest, a small one that was black. Comfort food, yes, comfort food! While she was here she might as well prepare for her trip to Utah. She got over five bags of barbecue chips, and a pack of water bottles. Lastly, a discreet black bag. Her whole goal for the 'illegal' items was screaming DISCREET. She piled them onto the counter, paid the stunned lady, then left. On her way out she bought another black pair of earbuds. Reluctantly going out into the cold, she put in the black buds to match her jacket. She decided to take the long way around to use her new phone. She was lucky, since it was so old and donated, it was at a General Store. She slowly turned it on. It took too fucking long, so she turned it over and took out the back panel. She rearranged some of the cheap wires, and stopped by the hardware store. She bought some and replaced them, looking down the whole time. She did not care about how much anyone marveled at her. It loaded faster than ever, and she went on, and put in a password that none of her family would ever guess... a D for David. Heh, heh. What she had really came for, though, was music. She downloaded The Twilight full movie soundtrack, plugged in her earbuds, and listened the whole way back to her calming music. She didn't remember putting her chips into the bag, the earbuds in her pocket, and carrying the water bottles with no stress back to the shack, nor humming, swaying and being slightly happy since she had gotten here. She also didn't remember flopping down on the bed at home, dropping the bag, and falling asleep swaying to the music.
Then she realized that she wasn't at home.
She woke to the sunlight all disheveled. Her aunt was calling her name from the kitchen. She heard bacon sizzling and a pancake being flipped. Shit, was she really that naive? Rose hopped up with a 'coming, auntie!' She stripped off her jacket only to realize that the phone was about to fall off of the bed and she was entangled in the black earbuds. She reached out just in time to grab it, then shoved it into a drawer in her nightstand. Bottom, of course. She slowly looked around for the earbud end, then unwrapped them with practice. She put them into the drawer, cussed, and vowed never to do this again. She heard a tapping foot. She dashed around, hung her jacket on a nifty door hook, and then relaxed. She felt like freshening up, so she was relieved to find a full-out bathroom. However, she was pissed that all the shampoos and conditioners and bar soaps were old lady-ish. She loved soothing strawberry. So that was what she would get next General Store trip, then. But then again, it's coconut smell was soothing. She moved slowly and thoroughly, and felt weird with her body bare without David around. The bar soap also made her skin feel odd. She toweled off with a big fluffy white one in the pile, then tossed it into a corner. She glanced up involuntarily, and saw a clock. She had spent over thirty minutes in there! She'd better hurry up. She shrugged into a random pair of blue skinny jeans and a black tee that she grabbed from her suitcase, and wished that David was here to see her. The tee was so tight. He had given her breasts great compliments two nights ago. Wow. Running a comb through her damp hair, she sped down the hall to the kitchen. She tossed the brush outside the door just before composing herself and walking in. Her aunt glared at her skeptically. "Auntie..." She started, but Mic'kayula cut her off. She held up a bag of artificial blood, and Rose knew right away that it was cow's from the smell of it. Auntie was flipping beef patties. Rose almost choked on kindness, her throat swelling up, but then she remembered who she was, where she was, who she was speaking to, and why, and frowned. Seeing it, Mic'kayula tossed the bag at her and said, "A forest a... well the distance doesn't matter to you but it's to the Northeast. Goodbye." She wouldn't let her see how disappointed she was. She wouldn't. On her way out, Rose threw the bag on the front steps. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, she sang. Then she darted to the Northeast. After taking down a few oversized deer, more than usual, she decided to go to Utah tomorrow. Going back, she strickingly realized that she had spent hours, and it was getting dark. Fuck. Oh, Mic'kayula would be soooo mad at her. And she was. When she got home, she was screaming at her:
"ROSE WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! Not hunting, of course." Rose was exceptionally calm, and praised herself for it later.
"Actually, Auntie, I have. Your forests have great selection, and I took down more than one deer."
"Oh really?" Unthinkingly Mic'kayula's eyes dropped to Rose's stomach, of course thinking that they did it, and slapped herself for it later. She snapped up and both stared for a while, but gradually both relaxed. Vampires couldn't have children with humans or whatever this boy was.
"Auntie, can I hunt for a while every day now?"
"What, no, you'll be bursting like a tick!?" Oh, yeah, shit, she was a vampire. Uhhhhmmm...
"Oh, yeah, I, uh, forgot. So how about if I just roam the town?"
"Sounds like an excuse to me." To me, too, Rose thought.
"No really Auntie, if I'm going to be here for a while I might as well get to know around. How about the reaches of Utah? It would be fun."
"Uhhhh, okay. I won't even demand to go with you. Tomorrow, though, okay?"
"Yeah, Auntie, I'm gonna go to bed now okay? Bye." She zoomed off, knowing that Mic wasn't convinced. And she dreamed.
Her dream was pleasant, but other than that, she couldn’t remember it at all.
She woke early with the iconic morning mist. She heard so much snoring form Mickey's room, it was ridiculous. How could they sleep? She dressed hurriedly today, and guessing that it was cold outside, she dressed in a black sweater and denims. Grabbing her chip bags franticly, she made sure to grab her earbuds and phone, shoving them in. Now, where did her Auntie keep the phone books and maps? She went to the kitchen and looked in a cupboard. Ah ha! Throwing them in and glancing at the map, she set off to the Northeast vampire speed.
While everything blurred, she marveled at how close she was yesterday, and so occupied with hunger. Just, how?
She stopped directly atop the tall hills lining the border. Then she pulled out the phone book. She tried to think back and thought, I shoulda brought the damn painting, or at least looked at it before I left. Now, let's see. His aunt Emily, I think, yeah Emily Kinesse... Why was she so damned scatterbrained today! Huhhhhhh. Back on track, right, back on track. Did you run track? Ran through her mind. Vampire, remember?
Finding Kinesse in the phone book was not hard, but it didn't list much. She was lucky to find one of those whitepages.com on her phone that tells you about everyone and everything. On there it barely listed her either. But there was an address. And she gathered her things and dashed off to it.
She knocked timidly at first, and then loudly, boldly. At no quick answer, she suddenly picked up the loud murmurings from inside. She didn't care at first, but then she picked up:
"But Emily, I love her! She's so gorgeous and kind, and, smart, and, and..." He was pleading in a high voice.
"That's exactly how your mother was." It was cold. "No good reasons."
"She's different, mom." He, in turn, had not used her fake nickname for years. Rose sensed a grimace. Actually, two, in the pause that followed.
"Same ways, always the same ways."
"She's more to me than just a girl. I want to spend my life with her." It was simply put. Then, enraged, "But I can't! Her father took her somewhere for staying up late, and, and... just..."
Rose burst in.
"Rose, you bitch, you, you... Where were you?" Gasp. Tray clanging. Rose wanted to help, but this...this...boy had leaped up and twirled her by the waist in a circle. Only one boy's voice was that soothing and velvety... only one boy's grip was that familiar and soft...
"DAVID!” Cried his aunt.. And then he and his aunt had a staredown. Uhhhh...
"Emily, this is Rose Niotreizé, my girlfriend." He looked at her with wonder. "Can we have a moment alone?" He asked, already dragging her to a room offsetting the right. Without waiting for an answer. Later they realize that she had called 'Don't do anything dirty!' after them. She had no idea. "What are you doing here?" They both said at the same time. Then again: "No, you start. No, you." Finally Rose took over:
"Me first," she said. "David?"
"Looking for you."
"I was...trying to figure out something."
"What, honey? You can tell me anything."
"Huhh. David, you're something else. Not human," she said hurriedly as he smiled, then shocked. "Or else I couldn't have had sex with you. So I came to question your aunt."
"How did you know that she was my aunt?"
"Uh, Ellis told me. So let's go."
"But... your father..."
"I'm living with my aunt for sixth months, but I'm going to come here daily to 'meet the locals'."
"Oh, okay then," he said. Rose boldly walked out in strides and stuck out her hand.
"Hello, Mrs. Kinesse. I'm Rose Niotreizé, David's..." She clarified with a look. "Girlfriend. Hi. Nice to meet you. Or may I call you Emily?" She asked. Taking her hand:
"Nice to meet you too, of course you may. So you're the girl that I've heard so much about." A look at David.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Hmmm..." She seemed to clarify that she was good enough.
"May I hear about David's mother?" She asked, sitting down on a hard yellow couch.
"She died a long time ago... and it hurts him to hear about her." Stubborn, stubborn, picky, picky, huh? Well...
"What was her name?"
"Emma Isabella Prefescheion."
"And his father, then, him too?"
"Well, not exactly, no..." Rose leaned over to her, and when David tried to hold her back, guessing what she was doing, she pried him off and glanced a 'cool your tits, dude' glance at him. He totally backed off, shocked. Then she whispered:
"Ma'am, I'm a vampire." Her eyes got as round as saucers. David gasped.
"He's an angel-human mix," she croaked.
"Which one was... THE WHAT?!"
"Angels are very, very rare nowadays," she breathed.
"But how did the angel...how is he half-human?"
"The human mother didn't know," she said simply.
"Emily..." Started David. "Then my father really must not have died if he was an angel! Could he?!" He gripped Rose's arms and swung her wildly around.
"No, he didn't die. Though I wish he would. He left your mother after his son was safely delivered."
"Ohhh..." David sank to the couch by Rose, and she held him.
"So..."
"Angels are pure, and they do whatever good deed is asked of them. And see his golden hair and deep blue eyes?"
"Yeah..."
"Ohhhh..."
"Yep," she said matter-of-factly.
"His powers?"
"Strength, speed, beauty, wavering, eternal life, perfection, etc."
"David? David, honey, wake up. Did you hear?"
"Yeah..."
"Oh my God it's dark I've gotta go." Rose said.
"Bye honey!" Emily called, and Rose rushed back to get a peck on the cheek and kiss on the mouth from David.
"Love you," he whispered.
"Yt," she responded. You too.
Rushing home, Rose was pleased. Auntie hadn't even stayed up to kill her. Literally. She remembered the whitepages. Then she realized that she didn't know much about Mic'kayula. So she looked her up. She scanned, and then saw, surprisingly in the short paragraph:
Was engaged for three months starting March 1st 1987, but he left her right before ceremony in June...
Hmmm... Auntie... Befuddled, she went to see the sign, and then thought back. The story about David's father reminded her of another sad story... He walked out on me when he was three... He left after his precious son was born... Mic'kayula wasn't that old, as a shapeshifter. With Stella at 36, and three years after, Mic was 39. David was... 18. 39-18... she did it in a notebook. =21. And angels with eternal life... No. No way. There was no way. On her phone she looked up the average marriage age, and it said 25. Rose saw fold-down steps, and ran into an attic. She was so stunned that she pulled down the ladder with sheer power. Running up there was one box in a dark corner. Pulling it over with power, she dug through it. A bunch of tissue paper and one scrapbook. But that is not what she was looking for, it seemed. Underneath was a weathered diary. Flipping a while in, it read:
March 1st, 1987
Today Ricardoichard Kinessé asked me for his hand in marriage! It was what I have been waiting for after two months of dating! Is it too soon? I am sure he loves me, and he's gorgeous! But however sadly I do not know him all over :(. I know he is an angel, and I shouldn't be writing this! I'm the only one he's told about his rare abilities! I'm keeping it a family secret, though, because my whole family, not even Stella, would approve.
She went to three months later:
June 2nd, 1987
He left me! He didn't even show to the ceremony! I will try to find him...No, I will forget him. And never tell anyone about this humiliation.
Kinessé! I must ask Emily tomorrow. And It was only when Rose went to sleep that she realized that it had already been a month. And she had to go to the doctor's tomorrow.
Well, that delayed her trip to David's. She was upset that he was waiting. Skipping to the doctor's, she knew that her senses may only be intact a little. She had been stormy lately. And she was right. Her weight was over, 176, and her height was shorter, 5'3". Huh. She had a slow and fast reaction time, and got sight and memory tests wrong. Weird. She dismissed the doctor's exam, and sped off to David's, excited. She was slower.
"Oh, Rose, where have you been?!"
"Cool it Daddy-os, I gotta talk to Emily."
"What the hell?! I thought you and Emily... Wait a minute about what?"
"Your dad."
"She's in the laundry room by the entrance," he said, defeated by the mention of his dad.
"Emmmm-illllly!" Called Rose. "Emmmm-illl-"
"Rose, I'm right here," she grabbed her. "Now what?"
"I want to know about David's father."
"Why?"
"Just go ahead and tell me already."
"His name was Ricardoichard. Here's a picture of him. It was in his mother's wallet, so now I carry this hateful man."
He was hot, that much was sure. Devastatingly. Rose choked. "That's...my...mother's sister's...aunt's...ex..." She passed out.
She awoke to David cradling her and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Even though she had been sure, it had been a jolt. She and David were...had sex...how was this connected!? What the hell!? Am I like Edgar Allen Poe now or what the fuck?! Ricky there must have gone from her aunt's, being greedy, realizing that he could never have an all-angel child and went to take Emma, misleading her, misguiding her. And that he could not manipulate Mic'kayula... that caniving sonofabitch. "I...have to go" Rose said, got up, and hurried out.
For a month she sat in her room, cradling herself. It wasn't creepy though, she showered, she hunted, she went to her doctor's, and the weirdness and dismissiveness progressed. It gained; the weight; the decrease in height; the power. She slept most of the time, and only woke to vivid dreams that she could not remember.
After two months Rose tried to go back to David's. Emily was not home, and they got dangerously close to having sex again. They could have, any time they wanted, but something in Rose's ethic said that it was terribly wrong. And not ever, but just now. Weird. They only stopped when David's hands started to slide up her shirt and her custom over XL bra, like David had first noticed giddily and not at all surprised, maybe a little, and pleased...okay she was going into too much detail about this.
And then something weird, bad, and life-changing happened. At the exact three month mark, Rose woke up. She woke up to a huge tan hump. Her black pajama's buttons had popped various long places away, and the top was laying at her sides. The hump was so huge that her tight pants had snapped and fallen down her bottom. She started, and it was hard to sit up. The first thing she thought was Fuck, Mic'kayula. Then she remembered that she spent a lot of time in her room nowadays. She immediately started to make a plan, but then was stunned still. What was this bump? Without thinking, she sensed with her mind. Into the bathroom, down into the cabinets, into a secret compartment...ages-old pregnancy tests. Now, who knew if they were accurate, being from Auntie's Ricardoichard days, but the evidence was pretty sure. It was 100%. Rose fingered her stomach. It was rock-solid. Fuck my life, she thought. Then she had morning sickness.
Rose went on her phone later that night. She had her plan, at night she was grabbing David and leaving, that much was going to be agreed. But... it had only been three months since she had had sex with David. And her stomach was a size six months. She absentmindedly fingered it's hardness, and then knew that she was carrying a Special child, and it grew twice as fast.
She was trying to make a checklist for her run. And finally, she had to accept the truth. She had made a mistake. A big, sexual mistake. And there was no going back. She was pregnant. Shoulda picked up some condoms and birth control at the General Store. She would have to leave her family forever, and never, ever come back. She was a disgrace, the disgrace, the embarrassment. David would build themselves a cabin in... Alaska. She would forever block her mind, as she was now, and he would have to hunt for her. She wouldn't even get to say goodbye, be at her own house. Maybe she could come back someday, far from now. But... what if her father didn't accept her?
When it was finally dark, she crept through the hallways, trying to cover her... baby bump. Her door creaked, and she jumped. "Um, Auntie, going out!" She called, her voice strained and cracking. She heard loud snores. Maybe being half vampire and half shapeshifter, you slept all of the night and day. She had been fooling her when she had made her beef that morning. Who could be trusted in this world without a dark past?
She made it out safe with her aunt's stash of cash. A large stash hidden in her aunt's closet, and her personal money. They had to start a new beginning. Which involved a lot of money. Products like blankets, pillows, mattresses, sheets, fridge, dishwasher, sink, silverware like forks, knifes, spoons, plates, placemats, tablecloth, etc. David could build wooden furniture, beds, tables, chairs, counters. For more cash, she would have to steal from her own parents. At her forbidden-to-go-to house. The only time to do it would have to be when her father hunted, around 10:00 P.M., her mother's and brother's and sister's bedtimes, to dawn, 2:00 A.M. Now time for David's. Before she had left she had cleaned herself, and wore her largest shirt, bra, and leggings. And it still stressed the bump. She had also grabbed the test and put it in a box she had found in the guest room closet. Then she had wrapped it with a bow, and slowly sped off. Why was she so impractical? Never a mistake that she would make again. She had found her guy. Too early.
When she got to Emily's, she prayed that David hadn't left. And when she crept up to his room window, she could see his peaceful figure. Thank God. She rapped on the window, carefully covering her bump. "What? Huh?" He said, sitting up sleepily. Then he saw her. He perked up, and quickly walked to the window. "What? Rose? I don't think this is the time for se-,"
"I'm not here for sex," she whispered. "I have something to tell you." She thrust the gift at him.
"What the he-." He stopped after he tore off the paper. "Rose," he whispered.
"Shoulda picked up some condoms and birth control at the General Store," she still whispered, fake laughing. "Heh, heh." She moved her hand, and revealed the bump. Before he could speak, she was. "We have to go. Tonight. I'll tell you about Specials on the way." She waved the cash at him. "You're going to build us a house in Alaska, and furniture. We'll stop at a store on the way. Now block your mind."
"What?"
"Don't let anyone hear your thoughts. And we have to stop at my house to get more cash. Come on."
"Just let me write a note to Emily."
"No-." But he was already at it.
Dear Mom,
I'm sorry. I did it with Rose, and now she's pregnant. Her family may harm her, so we're running. Don't try to find us.
David.
"Okay, okay. Now let's go."
"Wait, Rose. Don't get spooked, but do you see that raven behind you?" He waited until she turned, and jumped, and he snuck up behind her and hugged her softly, trying to sneak a feel of the bump. "It's there every time. We're together, that is."
"Oh..."
But he paused, and walked across the hall. She saw him kiss Emily on the cheek, and then he said,
"Let's go."
And they sped off together into the night, holding hands. Rose cradled the bump with her other hand, and then David reached over and touched it too. And they smiled at each other. "So now, Special children grow twice as fast, so I'm a size sixth months. And I probably can't hunt, so you'll have to for me. Because you're an angel, we'll know if the child is a vampire or an angel right away. Lucky us. Um, I'll have morning sickness and all that too. But we can do this, right?”
“Anything is possible with us Rose, we’re a pretty odd couple, a vampire and an Angel, after all.”
Character Details:
Rose Niotreize: 16 year old vampire, long straight black hair, blue-violet eyes. Slim figure, seduces easily, never plans ahead in life but to scheme. Relationship with her father is strained. Middle child of Stella and Adam. David Kinesse’s girlfriend. Soon to have their child. Older sister Melissa, younger brother Angelo. Aunt Mickayula.
David Sepecial Kinesse: Angel Human mix, 17 years old, blond fluffy hair, blue eyes, sporty, aunt Emily is his only family, mother is dead, father was supposed to be dead but may still be alive, Rose’s boyfriend, father of their child.
Ellis: human girl, David and Roses best friend, knows Rose’s secret. Very intelligent and helpful.
Adam Niotreize: Rose, Melissa and Angelos father and Stellas husband. 10,000 year old vampire, brother Vermont Denator, sister in law Mickayula. Very strict, angry, sad because of his mother dying in front of him when he was two. Short straight black hair, gray red eyes.
Stella Niotreize: Rose, Melissa and Angelos mother, Adams wife, second of house command, shapeshifter, favorite forms are cats and birds, blonde wavy hair, blue eyes, 36 years old. Not strict, good housekeeper.
Melissa Niotreize: 18 year old shapeshifter, first child of Stella and Adam, Rose and Angelou’s older sister. Favorite forms are cats and birds, takes after her mother a lot. Girly girl, loves humanity and wants to be a children’s doctor to help humans. Long brown wavy hair, brown eyes.
Angelo Niotreize: 3 year old boy, until you’re four you don’t know if you’re a shapeshifter or vampire. Specials cannot talk or walk until they are four. Blonde straight hair, brown eyes. Plays with his fathers old toy truck. Doesn’t seem to like the vampire half of the family. Is predicted to be a shapeshifter, and is a mother’s boy.
Vermont Denator: Evil younger vampire brother of Adam Niotreize, pretends to be Rose and David’s French teacher, then tries to rape and kill Rose. Never knew his mother, she was killed by their father when he was a newborn. Deceased by end of story, killed by his own brother to protect Rose.
Aunt Emily Kinesse: David’s aunt, his human mother’s sister. Hates Ricardoichard because he left her.
Aunt Mickayula: Stellas older sister, half vampire, half shapeshifter. Sleeps all day, dark past with Ricardoichard.
Ricardoichard Kinesse: David’s father, Mickayulas ex fiancé. Evil, just wanted an Angel child. Disappeared before David was born. Dark black hair, black eyes. Evil Angel.
Mysterious crow: appears every time Rose and David are together.
Bareerah Y. Ghani is a Canadian-Pakistani writer, currently pursuing an MFA in fiction from George Mason University. Her work has appeared in The Defunkt Magazine, Second Chance Lit., and others. You can follow her on Twitter @Bareera_yg where she usually whines about first drafts, and the stress of having an ever-growing TBR list.
Colored within lines
I thought: Yuck. Brown is ugly.
Scritch, scratch, scritch, scratch. I scraped the light-blue colored pencil across the white space; my attempt at fixing the damage done. I thought a sky in the background would brighten the page that was otherwise being dragged into a dull despair by the brown smeared inside the black outlines of a house.
But it didn’t work. Brown was still ugly. I couldn’t change it, even if I wanted to. So I abandoned it altogether and went on a hunt for a fresh new image; my hunt for redemption. Like a maniac, I flipped through the pages of my coloring book.
A snowman caught my eye for a moment, but almost instantly I turned the page to a flower vase. On another, there was a tea-set with a hefty-looking kettle, dainty cups with floral designs. I kept flipping, relishing momentarily in the soft rustle of turning pages when suddenly, I heard a loud clunk downstairs, followed by a clanking of what seemed like dishes. Then a buzz of voices trickled upstairs, sailing, bobbing in the air around me with an urgency. I fidgeted in my red chair. Uff. It’s a fish market downstairs! I threw my hands in the air.
After much concentration, as was possible by a seven-year-old, I tuned out the noise and finally settled on the flower vase. I picked up the light-pink colored pencil, tilted my head to the right. My nose almost touched the page as I pressed the lead onto paper. Scritch, scratch. Scritch, scratch. The white flowers turned pink. Scritch, scratch. The pink darkened, a little.
I moved my head away from the page and smiled. The flowers looked flushed, like ammi’s cheeks sometimes. Beautiful. I was about to choose a different color for the ones left empty when snap! Thick fingers in my face; slightly red, nails cut so deep they were buried inside the fingertips.
I looked up, and found myself staring into the large, frog-like eyes of a man peering from behind his black-rimmed glasses.
The stranger knelt down. He inched closer; I clasped the table edges with my fingers. We were face to face with only the tiny red table standing between us, protecting me. I shifted in my chair. My eyes quickly scanned the room, searching for my nanny. But the lounge was empty. The house was suddenly silent. The ruckus downstairs, dead.
My heart began pounding in my throat; I tightened my grip on the table. The man gave me a creepy smile, lips stretched in slow motion, his eyes didn’t blink. Mine fell to the page, trying to find comfort in its array of white and pink.
“It’s me Alizeh beti,” the stranger said, lingering in front of me.
Play statue, he’s not real, he’s not real.
Then the weight of his hand pressed on my head and my shoulders shot up, closing in on my neck as if afraid he was a lion who’d go straight for the jugular. I gripped the table edges tightly and tightly and tightly. My fingertips lost all color, my knuckles turned pale. Shut up and have breakfast, or I’m calling the man to take you away! Ammi’s threat surfaced in my head. Dread somersaulted deeper and deeper into my insides.
Why did she call him? I’m not a bad girl anymore.
I wanted to tell him I’d been good all throughout last month. I had stopped pestering my mother for chocolates. I had stopped crying and screaming in the morning, refusing to be sent to school with the nanny. I had stopped asking my mother to feed me breakfast with her hands. I had stopped asking about my father. I wanted to confess everything, but no words came out. I could only clutch the table tighter, feeling the strands of hope slip out. But then everything halted – the pounding in my throat, the fear churning. I’d caught a familiar movement.
Ammi will tell the man to go away. I folded my arms, lifting my chin to meet his gaze finally, a smirk waiting in the shadows of my lips, waiting, waiting, waiting. And then it was gone.
Ammi had finally made it up the stairs, a few inches away but completely frozen. Not in shock, or horror. She stood with a calm smile on her face, as the strange man slowly caressed my cheek. I had to hold back a grimace. My nose prickled and before I knew it, fat teardrops were sprouting from my eyes, dripping to my cheeks, soaking into his fingers. Blurry vision, but I still caught sight of his smile waning.
“Farida! Why is she crying?” he flipped around, almost shrieking at ammi.
Her face turned into the sun right before its sets, going paler and paler. There was a quiver in her shoulder like a mirage glinting in the windshield. But then she shook her head and as if a switch had been flicked, her calm smile reappeared. But she took too long. It was too late.
The man had already turned, lunged right ahead. He grabbed me from across the table, pulling me into what felt like quicksand; one slight move, and the pressure would tighten and tighten until I was there no more. Play statue, play statue, I kept telling myself. My hands hung limply by my side; my upper body stretched out front.
Ammi walked toward me, knelt down.
“What’s wrong, Alizeh?” she asked. “This is your baba. Aren’t you happy he’s home now?”
Baba? But I don’t have a baba.
She had told me so herself, a year ago.
I’d come home from school, leapt up in her arms, and excitedly asked when my baba would come to pick me up from school.
Her face had fallen, skin turned ashen like I’d punched her in the gut, knocked the wind out of her. “Who told you that your baba will pick you up?”
“No one. Haniya’s baba picks her up every day,” I said thinking about my friend’s father appearing every afternoon in the swarm of mothers, grandmothers and nannies, like a genie in a bottle.
Color flushed through her cheeks the way ink slowly soaks into paper. I traced the wrinkles that appeared on her forehead, waiting for her to answer my question. But her hands had fallen to her side, her breathing slowed like her body was shutting down.
“You don’t have a baba,” she said, a faraway look swimming in her eyes, glistening in the blue light from the TV, growing shinier and shinier by the minute. She then shoved me out of her lap and turned the TV volume up.
After that day, I vowed to never ask about my father again, holding on to the resolution, clasping it firmly between my teeth every time my tongue itched with questions.
But then there I was, being awkwardly embraced on a Friday afternoon by a strange man who ammi claimed was my father. Nothing made sense.
Through tear-filled eyes, still locked in the man’s suffocating embrace, I stared at ammi but all she did was smile, nod and repeat, as if she herself was coming to terms with it.
This is your baba. This is your baba. This is your baba.
I lifted my arms, slid them beneath my father’s, finally returning his embrace. I thought: Maybe everyone’s baba appears out of thin air. Like a genie in a bottle.
When he pulled back, his eyes were on my coloring book where the flowers lay, half colored pink, the rest devoid of life. He moved the pink pencil away from the page, placed a light blue in my hand.
“You haven’t got the color right,” he said, giving me a tight-lipped smile.
__________________________________________
I remember Karachi as the city brimming with chai-dhabas at every corner, gutkha-stained buildings, and truck art graffiti splattered on the walls spared from making claims, ‘Jiye Altaf Bhai’ (Long live brother Altaf). I like to think it is those eccentric colors on the city walls that inspired me to splash a variety in my coloring books - the one true treasure I possessed growing up.
I spent my childhood glued to the tiny red chair, fingers immersed in a sea of color pencils, scritch-scratching my lonely afternoons away.
One Saturday, ammi woke me up early, excitedly rushing to my room.
“Oh Alizeh! Wake up. It’s here!” she squealed. “Look!”
I rubbed my groggy eyes, blinking to adjust to the brightness. Ammi hovered over my head, beaming. The sun fell upon her in slanted rays that looked like they were seeping into her, filling her with all warmth and radiance. Her skin was golden, shimmering. In her hand, she swayed a large black box. I was still blinking, adjusting when it hit me. No way!
I jumped out of the bed, squealing. Ammi was holding the latest coloring box, the one I’d been eyeing in the toy store the previous weekend. She giggled, and pulled on my hand, rushing me outside toward my table.
“Go on. Open it right now!” she said, placing the box in front of me. I hurriedly grabbed a coloring book, flipping the pages in excitement, searching for an image that matched our happiness.
Finally! I sighed. There it was. The cheery snowman with the crooked nose, scarf flailing to the right, a wide smile on his face.
My fingers rushed to my gift. I unfastened the Velcro that held it together, and the colors stumbled out, vibrant, light, all shades gazing up at me. Pencils lodged at the top right, a section of watercolors at the bottom, and an array of sharp, oily crayons on the left.
I picked out a creamy white crayon, my heart beating was fast. I was afraid to move; afraid I’d break something. Ammi sat cross-legged on the floor beside me. I brought the crayon, swiping it gently through the snowman’s belly. I swirled it around on his face.
“The snowman looks beautiful, just like you,” she remarked, smiling.
In the evening, she took me to the park. We strolled around for hours. I trotted beside her, my fingers intermingled with hers, both of our hair fluttering in the breeze. Every now and then, she twirled me around, giggled with me as my skirt ballooned up. On our way back home, she bought me cotton candy in the car and when my little sticky fingers landed on her neck, she didn’t shove them away. Nuzzled in the car, basking in the pinkish-orange glow of the sunset, we were so happy.
A month later, everything changed. Baba had come home.
_________________________________________
It was on a Monday afternoon, two days after baba had arrived, when I first realized the change. I walked in through the front door, flung my schoolbag onto the sofa in the lounge downstairs. My nanny let out her usual exasperated sighs, but I ignored her and rushed to the dining room, loudly swinging its door open. I’d barely stepped inside when baba’s voice came roaring, slapping me in the face, “Alizeh!”
He was sitting at the head of the table, newspaper in hand, his saccadic gaze changes like a bird. Then his eyes landed on the school shoes I was still wearing inside. It was a habit I’d been adamant on keeping, despite my nanny’s pleading every day.
“Take them off,” he glared at me. “I don’t want to see you bringing in dirty shoes again.”
My head hung low, my tongue seething with anger. I bit into it as I turned around, my teeth digging in deeper and deeper when my nanny shot me a smug look outside. I held her gaze, even from the distance, as I added my shoes to the rack near the front door. On my way back, I took my revenge. I scrunched up my face, stuck my tongue out to her and sprinted toward the dining room before she could catch me. I win, I win, I chanted in my head.
But there was no winning for me that day. I plopped into the chair and found myself face to face with another tragedy: my peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches gone, replaced by gross thinly cut cucumber and tomato slices, the red and green juices blending, making a disgusting concoction in my plate.
This was too much. I wanted to scream. I wanted to release a constant, shrill note from deep within my gut that would make everyone’s ears bleed. But baba was sitting right there, watching me from the corner of his eyes. I silently stared at the red and green, hoping that if I waited long enough, he’d leave, and I’d get what I wanted. But he didn’t move.
“Why aren’t you eating this?” he asked a while later, his voice croaky and hoarse. His eyes bore down on me. Fear throbbed in my throat.
I held my breath, and the urge to gag, as I brought a cucumber slice to my lips. I gulped them all, with trembling fingers, one after another. Then I moved to the tomatoes, rushing through the motions, shoving each piece in my mouth, feeling the sting of its sticky juice as it dripped down my chin.
After lunch, I retreated to the much-needed comfort of my red table. I settled comfortably in the chair, scratching my chin at the spot still pricking from the tomatoes. The page was opened to a tea-set. The kettle with the happy eyes had one of its arms around its teacup babies, who had long, beautiful eye lashes.
The colored pencils waited on me. My fingers fumbled in the box, finally pulling out a dull, ashen grey. I smeared it in the white spaces of the kettle spout until baba’s voice rang in my ear: you haven’t got the color right.
I dropped it instantly, switched to a soft purple instead. I scraped the lilac in the kettle’s base. But suddenly, my ears twitched. I halted, frowning at the fat kettle only three-fourth filled.
I scanned the empty lounge. Golden wisps of an eerie silence floated in the space, growing, and growing, coming towards me. I gripped the metallic leg of the table, feeling the cold steel ground me. But a moment later, the shiny, silver legs were quivering. A tremor in the marble tiles underneath my feet. Thunder roared so loud, as if moving its angry body through the house. Tremors trickled through the marble tiles; terror oozed from all around me.
I raced to the window at the other end of the lounge, eager to witness the brewing storm. The room was darkening by the second.
This is odd, I thought, straining my neck to peer up at a calm, glowing sky. White cotton dabs across the clear slate of light blue. So very odd. I glanced back inside, where the light was still slowly vanishing. I clutched the panes as a rumble reached my ears again, a vibration under my feet like the floors were unsteady, the house about to break. I ran to the living room hoping its window would reveal to me the dark skies, and muddied clouds I was picturing in my mind’s eye.
The living room’s window opened up to an off-white wall blocking my view of the street outside. Below the wall was our garden; a vibrant block of green. I crouched down, and stretched my neck up, my eyeballs touching the eyelids. Far from the green, right above the off-white, there was a small patch of light blue. My heart leaped. My mind though, was fuzzy. How can this be? I’m sure my eyes are mistaken.
I bent down further, convinced it was all a mistake. Just then, I heard it again. This time a faint hollow sound like a giant thumping his foot outside, against the walls of our house. What’s really happening?
I made a run for my parents’ bedroom. But I never made it there.
I had wanted to see clusters of puffed up grey clouds, dragging their weight across a dead sky, thin cracks of lightning splitting them in half. But as I’d inched closer to my parents’ bedroom door, the roar of the thunder became deafening. It turned from a hollow growl to an ear-splitting sound leaking through the crack under the door. I clasped my hands tightly on my ears.
Baba brought a storm with him.
_________________________________________
The next afternoon, ammi had her usual shopping spree on the schedule, and I was to tag along because her friend, Ruksana Aunty was also bringing her son Hasan, who was around my age.
Around three o’clock, ammi asked me to get changed, handing me a new frock; a white sleeveless dress that left my stick-like legs exposed. I walked out of the bathroom, twirled around for her. She smiled as she fastened the beady buttons at the front and then asked me to wait near the entrance for her.
When she came downstairs, I was stunned. It was the first time I had seen her in a jet-black abaya. The dark garment hung so loosely on her form, concealing every curve within, that when she stepped right in front of the pedestal fan in the lounge, the dress had ballooned up making her look weightless. I pictured her floating up to the ceiling at any moment and thought: She could be a funny-looking batwoman.
We were all ready to head out to the bazaar. Just then, baba walked in through the main door. He didn’t say salaam even though he had been asking me to say it every time I entered the house. He had an ugly scowl on his face as he kicked off his shoes, his eyes trained on me.
“Farida why is she not covered up?” he growled at ammi, a slight revulsion flickering in his gaze. I hung my head, heating rising to my cheeks, despite the fan whirling loudly nearby, on full blast.
“Why are you even taking her out in so much sun? Just look at her! Look at her skin,” baba said, irritated.
I frowned at my hands; a sourness gathered at the back of my throat.
“Get away, you’ll get darker and darker,” my nanny shrieked in my ear.
A random afternoon, I was perched in front of the lounge window, soaking in the blazing sun. She’d rushed to grab me away, ammi was racing upstairs. Her feet thudding loudly, her face dark red.
“Don't say that about my child!” she had yelled, shoving my nanny away.
I lifted my head, turning to ammi, her cheeks popping out of the black scarf tied tightly around her head. Her forehead creased. I thought: This is the moment. She’ll yell at baba now. I kept thinking, now, now, now, but the silence simply stretched on.
Ten minutes later, we were finally outside. I was wearing the same white frock. Only now, it was paired with pink tights and a black scarf. My face lathered with thick layers of SPF 100. When ammi had been spreading the creamy liquid, massaging it deeply into my baby skin, I had taken a peek at myself in the mirror, face half like a ghost’s. I realized then, for the first time, how I truly looked.
I realized: Yuck. Brown is ugly.
__________________________________________
It is true that the bazaars in Karachi are a world of their own. The one we ended up at was a special cramped up space, overflowing with sweaty odors mixed with the tangy smell of samosas wafting from the nearby roadside stalls. Every nook and corner were hogged by a vendor with a new trick up his sleeve. From shiny, colorful bangles being sold to services on offer for all kinds of embroidery needs. It was chaotic and noisy. And extremely frightening for a seven-year-old.
My fingers were latched onto ammi’s at all times as she threaded her way through the crowd, expertly dodging the oncoming hasty shopper. Hasan trotted right beside me, holding onto his mother’s flailing dupatta. He wore blue shorts, his hair was ruffled up, unmade. I made a mental note: Only girls aren’t allowed to show their hair and legs.
But then I gazed up at Ruksana Aunty with her shoulder-length hair flipping about as she looked here and there. Suddenly, I felt like muddied water was gushing through my brain. I rubbed my eyes, scratched my cheeks in confusion. The humidity clung to my body, my face with its layers of sunblock was becoming stickier by the second. I tugged at the knot below my chin. Threads sprouting from my headscarf prickled my skin. I wanted to rip it off.
Our troupe finally halted at ammi’s most beloved clothing shop. Her regularity as their customer was such that when we made our way in the air-conditioned space, Aslam bhai - the middle-aged shop owner - yelled out orders for the ladies to be served with warm chai, and for Hasan and I to be given orange juice boxes.
Rolls and rolls of cloth - colorful, shiny, patterned - were unfurled in front of ammi. I took a seat beside her, mesmerized by the shades, the swirling designs, the glittering fabrics. I didn’t notice someone was beside me, standing close. Getting closer, and closer until I felt it; a calloused touch, a graze over my finger.
I spun around, meeting Aslam bhai’s eye. He was on the seat next to me, his mouth curled in a furtive smile, his lips barely visible underneath the bushy silver-grey moustache. His watery eyes had a strange look in them. I jerked my hand away, and with the other I was reaching to my left, to tug at ammi’s abaya, when suddenly he grabbed my knee. He was grinning like the Cheshire cat, his eerie eyes digging deep into mine as if searching for something to tear, to snatch, to sink his yellowed teeth into.
“I want you to have these chocolates—" His grip tightened as four Dairy Milk packets magically appeared in his other palm. He extended them toward me, inches away, his yellow dirty nails clutching my legs tighter and tighter. Just then Hasan leapt from nearby, grabbing two bars. Aslam bhai let go, flipped his head to scowl at him. I grabbed the opportunity and began tugging rigorously at ammi’s abaya.
“What now, Alizeh?” She snapped, turning around. “What do you want?”
Her eyes fell on Aslam bhai, then on the chocolates in his hand. He gave her a different smile, a sweet gentle one.
“Baaji, I was just offering these to Alizeh beti.”
“Oh thank you bhai. But really-- there’s no need.”
“Oh I insist! You’re our most valued customer. Alizeh is just like my own daughter.”
There it was again, the disturbing twinkle in his eye. His toothy grin became wider and wider.
“Ammi, I want to go home please,” I cried.
She pursed her lips. “In a while. Just take the chocolates. Thank the man. And stay quiet.”
“But ammi--”
“Alizeh, I said we’re going to be here for a while. Let me shop in peace. Look at Hasan! Look how quietly he’s playing. Why don’t you ever do as you’re told?”
At this point, Aslam bhai interjected with the chocolates again, shoving them in my face now. As I wrapped my fingers around the packet, he extended his other hand, inviting me to shake it. I stared at it, almost expecting it to have stained from the pink in my tights. I turned to ammi, expecting her to politely refuse the invitation.
“Stop being rude!” she said, nudging my shoulder. “Go on. Thank him. Shake his hand. Have I taught you nothing?”
I don’t like him. I wanted to shout and stomp my feet. But I knew that would land me locked in the dark bathroom, the moment we were home. And so silently, I placed my hand in his sweaty palms. He clasped his fingers onto it, pressing them tightly as if trying to glue our skins together. And when he noticed ammi had turned back to the other man in charge, he slid his hands up my wrist, grazing it as he eyed me slyly, licked his lips, parting them once again into a wide smirk that exposed large, wolf-like yellowed teeth. I jerked my hand away and ran outside the shop. Ammi turned around, yelled at me to come back inside, but a second later, she was distracted by another colorful cloth unfurling in front of her.
For the rest of the hour and a half, I refused to give in to her demands, ignoring her even when she turned around, shot daggers at me through the plastic sheets at the entrance. I held my ground outside, in the increasing heat and humidity, scratching my scalp and chin every now and then, glaring at the shop owner, gritting my teeth. My eyes burnt as if on fire. I wondered: why doesn’t ammi love me anymore?
I found my answer the next day.
__________________________________________
I woke up to the sound of ammi frantically barging in my room.
“Oh Alizeh! Wake up. It’s here!” she cried. “Look at my dress, it just came from the tailor. Look!”
I squinted up at her. She was practically jumping with joy, a sparkle in her eyes as she gazed at the dress, the pride on her face as if she was witnessing perfection.
It was a momentous day-- ammi was hosting her first kitty party. The event was to mark her debut into the world of socialites, with her chin held up high, now that baba was finally home.
“Oh isn’t it –just lovely.” She sighed a happy sigh, still smiling at the dress. I wondered if she even knew I was there.
“What will I wear?” I asked her softly, terrified of somehow bursting her happy bubble.
She waved her hand, without looking away from the dress. “Oh we’ll find you something.”
Minutes later, I came out of the bathroom, expecting her to be standing in front of my cupboard, hands perched on its oak door. Instead, I was met with a kurta hung lopsided on the thin black handle. There was a note attached to it that said: Wear this.
Five o’clock came quickly that day, like the women who started pouring in through the front door in multicolored swarms, their bangles and jhumkas jingling, giggles erupting through the hallway to the lounge and finally settling in the living room.
Ammi had handed me the little tasks beforehand, instructing me to do just as I was told – show an aunty the way to the powder room, get someone a glass of water. And so, I spent most of the evening running about on my tiny feet, amidst the crowd churning new gossip and laughter echoing through our house louder and louder by the second. Right before the entrée was to be served, I bumped into Ruksana aunty outside the dining room.
“Aray Alizeh! Haven’t seen you all night!” Her eyes wide and bright. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Oh,” I smiled. “I’ve just been helping ammi out.”
There was a sudden shift in her expression. “Did your ammi make you wear this color?” Her eyes narrowed on me and then quickly darted around as if she was afraid of someone seeing us together.
I looked down at the kurta hanging loosely on my body. It was a summer color; a burnt orange with a tinge of red blended into the fabric, the colors forming irregular waves. I gazed at it a minute too long, checking for stains. When I looked up, Ruksana aunty had disappeared. I caught sight of her flailing dupatta, in the distance and hurried forward in the direction, curious to know what just happened.
She turned into the living room, I rushed in right after her. She pulled ammi out of a crowd and took her to a corner.
“Farida, why have you made Alizeh wear that kurta?” she asked abruptly, clutching ammi by the arm.
Ammi gave her a puzzled, almost hurt look as if she had an abuse hurled at her.
“The color you picked out-- it’s all wrong. It’s making her look darker!”
Ammi’s eyes widened; her forehead creased. “I don’t know what do with her—” she sighed. “Her baba has also mentioned it a few times. Do you know any home remedies?”
“Yeah, yeah—I’ll give you a few recipes my mother used on all of us—Look,” she pointed to her own forearms, pinching the skin. “All white and clean now.”
She gave ammi a reassuring smile that proved useless in bringing any change in the creases on her forehead. I zoned out before I could hear what ammi said.
I walked away, feeling like muddied water was gushing through my brain again. My eyes began to sting, as if a fire was being kindled somewhere at the back of my head. I raced up the stairs to my tiny red table, grabbing the edges furiously as I crashed into the chair.
My fingers fumbled at first, then I started flipping the pages with angry little slapping motions. Finally, I thought, gritting my teeth. There was the happy-looking snowman, creamy white.
My fingers dived into the coloring box as if they knew they were on a mission. Out came the right color. Its sharpened tip dug deeper and deeper into the fat milky stomach of the snowman, violently leaving its stains even outside the bold outlines.
I sighed as I moved up from the page. My eyes still stung, but I was happy. My snowman was ready. Its antlers and nose brown, its body a shade darker. The color of dark chocolate. The color of chestnuts. The color of coffee beans.
I looked at the image and smiled. There, now the snowman is ugly too. Just like me.
__________________________________________
Scritch, scratch, scritch, scratch. I scraped the light-blue colored pencil across the white space; my attempt at fixing the damage done. I thought a sky in the background would brighten the page that was otherwise being dragged into a dull despair by the brown smeared inside the black outlines of a house.
But it didn’t work. Brown was still ugly. I couldn’t change it, even if I wanted to. So I abandoned it altogether and went on a hunt for a fresh new image; my hunt for redemption. Like a maniac, I flipped through the pages of my coloring book.
A snowman caught my eye for a moment, but almost instantly I turned the page to a flower vase. On another, there was a tea-set with a hefty-looking kettle, dainty cups with floral designs. I kept flipping, relishing momentarily in the soft rustle of turning pages when suddenly, I heard a loud clunk downstairs, followed by a clanking of what seemed like dishes. Then a buzz of voices trickled upstairs, sailing, bobbing in the air around me with an urgency. I fidgeted in my red chair. Uff. It’s a fish market downstairs! I threw my hands in the air.
After much concentration, as was possible by a seven-year-old, I tuned out the noise and finally settled on the flower vase. I picked up the light-pink colored pencil, tilted my head to the right. My nose almost touched the page as I pressed the lead onto paper. Scritch, scratch. Scritch, scratch. The white flowers turned pink. Scritch, scratch. The pink darkened, a little.
I moved my head away from the page and smiled. The flowers looked flushed, like ammi’s cheeks sometimes. Beautiful. I was about to choose a different color for the ones left empty when snap! Thick fingers in my face; slightly red, nails cut so deep they were buried inside the fingertips.
I looked up, and found myself staring into the large, frog-like eyes of a man peering from behind his black-rimmed glasses.
The stranger knelt down. He inched closer; I clasped the table edges with my fingers. We were face to face with only the tiny red table standing between us, protecting me. I shifted in my chair. My eyes quickly scanned the room, searching for my nanny. But the lounge was empty. The house was suddenly silent. The ruckus downstairs, dead.
My heart began pounding in my throat; I tightened my grip on the table. The man gave me a creepy smile, lips stretched in slow motion, his eyes didn’t blink. Mine fell to the page, trying to find comfort in its array of white and pink.
“It’s me Alizeh beti,” the stranger said, lingering in front of me.
Play statue, he’s not real, he’s not real.
Then the weight of his hand pressed on my head and my shoulders shot up, closing in on my neck as if afraid he was a lion who’d go straight for the jugular. I gripped the table edges tightly and tightly and tightly. My fingertips lost all color, my knuckles turned pale. Shut up and have breakfast, or I’m calling the man to take you away! Ammi’s threat surfaced in my head. Dread somersaulted deeper and deeper into my insides.
Why did she call him? I’m not a bad girl anymore.
I wanted to tell him I’d been good all throughout last month. I had stopped pestering my mother for chocolates. I had stopped crying and screaming in the morning, refusing to be sent to school with the nanny. I had stopped asking my mother to feed me breakfast with her hands. I had stopped asking about my father. I wanted to confess everything, but no words came out. I could only clutch the table tighter, feeling the strands of hope slip out. But then everything halted – the pounding in my throat, the fear churning. I’d caught a familiar movement.
Ammi will tell the man to go away. I folded my arms, lifting my chin to meet his gaze finally, a smirk waiting in the shadows of my lips, waiting, waiting, waiting. And then it was gone.
Ammi had finally made it up the stairs, a few inches away but completely frozen. Not in shock, or horror. She stood with a calm smile on her face, as the strange man slowly caressed my cheek. I had to hold back a grimace. My nose prickled and before I knew it, fat teardrops were sprouting from my eyes, dripping to my cheeks, soaking into his fingers. Blurry vision, but I still caught sight of his smile waning.
“Farida! Why is she crying?” he flipped around, almost shrieking at ammi.
Her face turned into the sun right before its sets, going paler and paler. There was a quiver in her shoulder like a mirage glinting in the windshield. But then she shook her head and as if a switch had been flicked, her calm smile reappeared. But she took too long. It was too late.
The man had already turned, lunged right ahead. He grabbed me from across the table, pulling me into what felt like quicksand; one slight move, and the pressure would tighten and tighten until I was there no more. Play statue, play statue, I kept telling myself. My hands hung limply by my side; my upper body stretched out front.
Ammi walked toward me, knelt down.
“What’s wrong, Alizeh?” she asked. “This is your baba. Aren’t you happy he’s home now?”
Baba? But I don’t have a baba.
She had told me so herself, a year ago.
I’d come home from school, leapt up in her arms, and excitedly asked when my baba would come to pick me up from school.
Her face had fallen, skin turned ashen like I’d punched her in the gut, knocked the wind out of her. “Who told you that your baba will pick you up?”
“No one. Haniya’s baba picks her up every day,” I said thinking about my friend’s father appearing every afternoon in the swarm of mothers, grandmothers and nannies, like a genie in a bottle.
Color flushed through her cheeks the way ink slowly soaks into paper. I traced the wrinkles that appeared on her forehead, waiting for her to answer my question. But her hands had fallen to her side, her breathing slowed like her body was shutting down.
“You don’t have a baba,” she said, a faraway look swimming in her eyes, glistening in the blue light from the TV, growing shinier and shinier by the minute. She then shoved me out of her lap and turned the TV volume up.
After that day, I vowed to never ask about my father again, holding on to the resolution, clasping it firmly between my teeth every time my tongue itched with questions.
But then there I was, being awkwardly embraced on a Friday afternoon by a strange man who ammi claimed was my father. Nothing made sense.
Through tear-filled eyes, still locked in the man’s suffocating embrace, I stared at ammi but all she did was smile, nod and repeat, as if she herself was coming to terms with it.
This is your baba. This is your baba. This is your baba.
I lifted my arms, slid them beneath my father’s, finally returning his embrace. I thought: Maybe everyone’s baba appears out of thin air. Like a genie in a bottle.
When he pulled back, his eyes were on my coloring book where the flowers lay, half colored pink, the rest devoid of life. He moved the pink pencil away from the page, placed a light blue in my hand.
“You haven’t got the color right,” he said, giving me a tight-lipped smile.
__________________________________________
I remember Karachi as the city brimming with chai-dhabas at every corner, gutkha-stained buildings, and truck art graffiti splattered on the walls spared from making claims, ‘Jiye Altaf Bhai’ (Long live brother Altaf). I like to think it is those eccentric colors on the city walls that inspired me to splash a variety in my coloring books - the one true treasure I possessed growing up.
I spent my childhood glued to the tiny red chair, fingers immersed in a sea of color pencils, scritch-scratching my lonely afternoons away.
One Saturday, ammi woke me up early, excitedly rushing to my room.
“Oh Alizeh! Wake up. It’s here!” she squealed. “Look!”
I rubbed my groggy eyes, blinking to adjust to the brightness. Ammi hovered over my head, beaming. The sun fell upon her in slanted rays that looked like they were seeping into her, filling her with all warmth and radiance. Her skin was golden, shimmering. In her hand, she swayed a large black box. I was still blinking, adjusting when it hit me. No way!
I jumped out of the bed, squealing. Ammi was holding the latest coloring box, the one I’d been eyeing in the toy store the previous weekend. She giggled, and pulled on my hand, rushing me outside toward my table.
“Go on. Open it right now!” she said, placing the box in front of me. I hurriedly grabbed a coloring book, flipping the pages in excitement, searching for an image that matched our happiness.
Finally! I sighed. There it was. The cheery snowman with the crooked nose, scarf flailing to the right, a wide smile on his face.
My fingers rushed to my gift. I unfastened the Velcro that held it together, and the colors stumbled out, vibrant, light, all shades gazing up at me. Pencils lodged at the top right, a section of watercolors at the bottom, and an array of sharp, oily crayons on the left.
I picked out a creamy white crayon, my heart beating was fast. I was afraid to move; afraid I’d break something. Ammi sat cross-legged on the floor beside me. I brought the crayon, swiping it gently through the snowman’s belly. I swirled it around on his face.
“The snowman looks beautiful, just like you,” she remarked, smiling.
In the evening, she took me to the park. We strolled around for hours. I trotted beside her, my fingers intermingled with hers, both of our hair fluttering in the breeze. Every now and then, she twirled me around, giggled with me as my skirt ballooned up. On our way back home, she bought me cotton candy in the car and when my little sticky fingers landed on her neck, she didn’t shove them away. Nuzzled in the car, basking in the pinkish-orange glow of the sunset, we were so happy.
A month later, everything changed. Baba had come home.
_________________________________________
It was on a Monday afternoon, two days after baba had arrived, when I first realized the change. I walked in through the front door, flung my schoolbag onto the sofa in the lounge downstairs. My nanny let out her usual exasperated sighs, but I ignored her and rushed to the dining room, loudly swinging its door open. I’d barely stepped inside when baba’s voice came roaring, slapping me in the face, “Alizeh!”
He was sitting at the head of the table, newspaper in hand, his saccadic gaze changes like a bird. Then his eyes landed on the school shoes I was still wearing inside. It was a habit I’d been adamant on keeping, despite my nanny’s pleading every day.
“Take them off,” he glared at me. “I don’t want to see you bringing in dirty shoes again.”
My head hung low, my tongue seething with anger. I bit into it as I turned around, my teeth digging in deeper and deeper when my nanny shot me a smug look outside. I held her gaze, even from the distance, as I added my shoes to the rack near the front door. On my way back, I took my revenge. I scrunched up my face, stuck my tongue out to her and sprinted toward the dining room before she could catch me. I win, I win, I chanted in my head.
But there was no winning for me that day. I plopped into the chair and found myself face to face with another tragedy: my peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches gone, replaced by gross thinly cut cucumber and tomato slices, the red and green juices blending, making a disgusting concoction in my plate.
This was too much. I wanted to scream. I wanted to release a constant, shrill note from deep within my gut that would make everyone’s ears bleed. But baba was sitting right there, watching me from the corner of his eyes. I silently stared at the red and green, hoping that if I waited long enough, he’d leave, and I’d get what I wanted. But he didn’t move.
“Why aren’t you eating this?” he asked a while later, his voice croaky and hoarse. His eyes bore down on me. Fear throbbed in my throat.
I held my breath, and the urge to gag, as I brought a cucumber slice to my lips. I gulped them all, with trembling fingers, one after another. Then I moved to the tomatoes, rushing through the motions, shoving each piece in my mouth, feeling the sting of its sticky juice as it dripped down my chin.
After lunch, I retreated to the much-needed comfort of my red table. I settled comfortably in the chair, scratching my chin at the spot still pricking from the tomatoes. The page was opened to a tea-set. The kettle with the happy eyes had one of its arms around its teacup babies, who had long, beautiful eye lashes.
The colored pencils waited on me. My fingers fumbled in the box, finally pulling out a dull, ashen grey. I smeared it in the white spaces of the kettle spout until baba’s voice rang in my ear: you haven’t got the color right.
I dropped it instantly, switched to a soft purple instead. I scraped the lilac in the kettle’s base. But suddenly, my ears twitched. I halted, frowning at the fat kettle only three-fourth filled.
I scanned the empty lounge. Golden wisps of an eerie silence floated in the space, growing, and growing, coming towards me. I gripped the metallic leg of the table, feeling the cold steel ground me. But a moment later, the shiny, silver legs were quivering. A tremor in the marble tiles underneath my feet. Thunder roared so loud, as if moving its angry body through the house. Tremors trickled through the marble tiles; terror oozed from all around me.
I raced to the window at the other end of the lounge, eager to witness the brewing storm. The room was darkening by the second.
This is odd, I thought, straining my neck to peer up at a calm, glowing sky. White cotton dabs across the clear slate of light blue. So very odd. I glanced back inside, where the light was still slowly vanishing. I clutched the panes as a rumble reached my ears again, a vibration under my feet like the floors were unsteady, the house about to break. I ran to the living room hoping its window would reveal to me the dark skies, and muddied clouds I was picturing in my mind’s eye.
The living room’s window opened up to an off-white wall blocking my view of the street outside. Below the wall was our garden; a vibrant block of green. I crouched down, and stretched my neck up, my eyeballs touching the eyelids. Far from the green, right above the off-white, there was a small patch of light blue. My heart leaped. My mind though, was fuzzy. How can this be? I’m sure my eyes are mistaken.
I bent down further, convinced it was all a mistake. Just then, I heard it again. This time a faint hollow sound like a giant thumping his foot outside, against the walls of our house. What’s really happening?
I made a run for my parents’ bedroom. But I never made it there.
I had wanted to see clusters of puffed up grey clouds, dragging their weight across a dead sky, thin cracks of lightning splitting them in half. But as I’d inched closer to my parents’ bedroom door, the roar of the thunder became deafening. It turned from a hollow growl to an ear-splitting sound leaking through the crack under the door. I clasped my hands tightly on my ears.
Baba brought a storm with him.
_________________________________________
The next afternoon, ammi had her usual shopping spree on the schedule, and I was to tag along because her friend, Ruksana Aunty was also bringing her son Hasan, who was around my age.
Around three o’clock, ammi asked me to get changed, handing me a new frock; a white sleeveless dress that left my stick-like legs exposed. I walked out of the bathroom, twirled around for her. She smiled as she fastened the beady buttons at the front and then asked me to wait near the entrance for her.
When she came downstairs, I was stunned. It was the first time I had seen her in a jet-black abaya. The dark garment hung so loosely on her form, concealing every curve within, that when she stepped right in front of the pedestal fan in the lounge, the dress had ballooned up making her look weightless. I pictured her floating up to the ceiling at any moment and thought: She could be a funny-looking batwoman.
We were all ready to head out to the bazaar. Just then, baba walked in through the main door. He didn’t say salaam even though he had been asking me to say it every time I entered the house. He had an ugly scowl on his face as he kicked off his shoes, his eyes trained on me.
“Farida why is she not covered up?” he growled at ammi, a slight revulsion flickering in his gaze. I hung my head, heating rising to my cheeks, despite the fan whirling loudly nearby, on full blast.
“Why are you even taking her out in so much sun? Just look at her! Look at her skin,” baba said, irritated.
I frowned at my hands; a sourness gathered at the back of my throat.
“Get away, you’ll get darker and darker,” my nanny shrieked in my ear.
A random afternoon, I was perched in front of the lounge window, soaking in the blazing sun. She’d rushed to grab me away, ammi was racing upstairs. Her feet thudding loudly, her face dark red.
“Don't say that about my child!” she had yelled, shoving my nanny away.
I lifted my head, turning to ammi, her cheeks popping out of the black scarf tied tightly around her head. Her forehead creased. I thought: This is the moment. She’ll yell at baba now. I kept thinking, now, now, now, but the silence simply stretched on.
Ten minutes later, we were finally outside. I was wearing the same white frock. Only now, it was paired with pink tights and a black scarf. My face lathered with thick layers of SPF 100. When ammi had been spreading the creamy liquid, massaging it deeply into my baby skin, I had taken a peek at myself in the mirror, face half like a ghost’s. I realized then, for the first time, how I truly looked.
I realized: Yuck. Brown is ugly.
__________________________________________
It is true that the bazaars in Karachi are a world of their own. The one we ended up at was a special cramped up space, overflowing with sweaty odors mixed with the tangy smell of samosas wafting from the nearby roadside stalls. Every nook and corner were hogged by a vendor with a new trick up his sleeve. From shiny, colorful bangles being sold to services on offer for all kinds of embroidery needs. It was chaotic and noisy. And extremely frightening for a seven-year-old.
My fingers were latched onto ammi’s at all times as she threaded her way through the crowd, expertly dodging the oncoming hasty shopper. Hasan trotted right beside me, holding onto his mother’s flailing dupatta. He wore blue shorts, his hair was ruffled up, unmade. I made a mental note: Only girls aren’t allowed to show their hair and legs.
But then I gazed up at Ruksana Aunty with her shoulder-length hair flipping about as she looked here and there. Suddenly, I felt like muddied water was gushing through my brain. I rubbed my eyes, scratched my cheeks in confusion. The humidity clung to my body, my face with its layers of sunblock was becoming stickier by the second. I tugged at the knot below my chin. Threads sprouting from my headscarf prickled my skin. I wanted to rip it off.
Our troupe finally halted at ammi’s most beloved clothing shop. Her regularity as their customer was such that when we made our way in the air-conditioned space, Aslam bhai - the middle-aged shop owner - yelled out orders for the ladies to be served with warm chai, and for Hasan and I to be given orange juice boxes.
Rolls and rolls of cloth - colorful, shiny, patterned - were unfurled in front of ammi. I took a seat beside her, mesmerized by the shades, the swirling designs, the glittering fabrics. I didn’t notice someone was beside me, standing close. Getting closer, and closer until I felt it; a calloused touch, a graze over my finger.
I spun around, meeting Aslam bhai’s eye. He was on the seat next to me, his mouth curled in a furtive smile, his lips barely visible underneath the bushy silver-grey moustache. His watery eyes had a strange look in them. I jerked my hand away, and with the other I was reaching to my left, to tug at ammi’s abaya, when suddenly he grabbed my knee. He was grinning like the Cheshire cat, his eerie eyes digging deep into mine as if searching for something to tear, to snatch, to sink his yellowed teeth into.
“I want you to have these chocolates—" His grip tightened as four Dairy Milk packets magically appeared in his other palm. He extended them toward me, inches away, his yellow dirty nails clutching my legs tighter and tighter. Just then Hasan leapt from nearby, grabbing two bars. Aslam bhai let go, flipped his head to scowl at him. I grabbed the opportunity and began tugging rigorously at ammi’s abaya.
“What now, Alizeh?” She snapped, turning around. “What do you want?”
Her eyes fell on Aslam bhai, then on the chocolates in his hand. He gave her a different smile, a sweet gentle one.
“Baaji, I was just offering these to Alizeh beti.”
“Oh thank you bhai. But really-- there’s no need.”
“Oh I insist! You’re our most valued customer. Alizeh is just like my own daughter.”
There it was again, the disturbing twinkle in his eye. His toothy grin became wider and wider.
“Ammi, I want to go home please,” I cried.
She pursed her lips. “In a while. Just take the chocolates. Thank the man. And stay quiet.”
“But ammi--”
“Alizeh, I said we’re going to be here for a while. Let me shop in peace. Look at Hasan! Look how quietly he’s playing. Why don’t you ever do as you’re told?”
At this point, Aslam bhai interjected with the chocolates again, shoving them in my face now. As I wrapped my fingers around the packet, he extended his other hand, inviting me to shake it. I stared at it, almost expecting it to have stained from the pink in my tights. I turned to ammi, expecting her to politely refuse the invitation.
“Stop being rude!” she said, nudging my shoulder. “Go on. Thank him. Shake his hand. Have I taught you nothing?”
I don’t like him. I wanted to shout and stomp my feet. But I knew that would land me locked in the dark bathroom, the moment we were home. And so silently, I placed my hand in his sweaty palms. He clasped his fingers onto it, pressing them tightly as if trying to glue our skins together. And when he noticed ammi had turned back to the other man in charge, he slid his hands up my wrist, grazing it as he eyed me slyly, licked his lips, parting them once again into a wide smirk that exposed large, wolf-like yellowed teeth. I jerked my hand away and ran outside the shop. Ammi turned around, yelled at me to come back inside, but a second later, she was distracted by another colorful cloth unfurling in front of her.
For the rest of the hour and a half, I refused to give in to her demands, ignoring her even when she turned around, shot daggers at me through the plastic sheets at the entrance. I held my ground outside, in the increasing heat and humidity, scratching my scalp and chin every now and then, glaring at the shop owner, gritting my teeth. My eyes burnt as if on fire. I wondered: why doesn’t ammi love me anymore?
I found my answer the next day.
__________________________________________
I woke up to the sound of ammi frantically barging in my room.
“Oh Alizeh! Wake up. It’s here!” she cried. “Look at my dress, it just came from the tailor. Look!”
I squinted up at her. She was practically jumping with joy, a sparkle in her eyes as she gazed at the dress, the pride on her face as if she was witnessing perfection.
It was a momentous day-- ammi was hosting her first kitty party. The event was to mark her debut into the world of socialites, with her chin held up high, now that baba was finally home.
“Oh isn’t it –just lovely.” She sighed a happy sigh, still smiling at the dress. I wondered if she even knew I was there.
“What will I wear?” I asked her softly, terrified of somehow bursting her happy bubble.
She waved her hand, without looking away from the dress. “Oh we’ll find you something.”
Minutes later, I came out of the bathroom, expecting her to be standing in front of my cupboard, hands perched on its oak door. Instead, I was met with a kurta hung lopsided on the thin black handle. There was a note attached to it that said: Wear this.
Five o’clock came quickly that day, like the women who started pouring in through the front door in multicolored swarms, their bangles and jhumkas jingling, giggles erupting through the hallway to the lounge and finally settling in the living room.
Ammi had handed me the little tasks beforehand, instructing me to do just as I was told – show an aunty the way to the powder room, get someone a glass of water. And so, I spent most of the evening running about on my tiny feet, amidst the crowd churning new gossip and laughter echoing through our house louder and louder by the second. Right before the entrée was to be served, I bumped into Ruksana aunty outside the dining room.
“Aray Alizeh! Haven’t seen you all night!” Her eyes wide and bright. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Oh,” I smiled. “I’ve just been helping ammi out.”
There was a sudden shift in her expression. “Did your ammi make you wear this color?” Her eyes narrowed on me and then quickly darted around as if she was afraid of someone seeing us together.
I looked down at the kurta hanging loosely on my body. It was a summer color; a burnt orange with a tinge of red blended into the fabric, the colors forming irregular waves. I gazed at it a minute too long, checking for stains. When I looked up, Ruksana aunty had disappeared. I caught sight of her flailing dupatta, in the distance and hurried forward in the direction, curious to know what just happened.
She turned into the living room, I rushed in right after her. She pulled ammi out of a crowd and took her to a corner.
“Farida, why have you made Alizeh wear that kurta?” she asked abruptly, clutching ammi by the arm.
Ammi gave her a puzzled, almost hurt look as if she had an abuse hurled at her.
“The color you picked out-- it’s all wrong. It’s making her look darker!”
Ammi’s eyes widened; her forehead creased. “I don’t know what do with her—” she sighed. “Her baba has also mentioned it a few times. Do you know any home remedies?”
“Yeah, yeah—I’ll give you a few recipes my mother used on all of us—Look,” she pointed to her own forearms, pinching the skin. “All white and clean now.”
She gave ammi a reassuring smile that proved useless in bringing any change in the creases on her forehead. I zoned out before I could hear what ammi said.
I walked away, feeling like muddied water was gushing through my brain again. My eyes began to sting, as if a fire was being kindled somewhere at the back of my head. I raced up the stairs to my tiny red table, grabbing the edges furiously as I crashed into the chair.
My fingers fumbled at first, then I started flipping the pages with angry little slapping motions. Finally, I thought, gritting my teeth. There was the happy-looking snowman, creamy white.
My fingers dived into the coloring box as if they knew they were on a mission. Out came the right color. Its sharpened tip dug deeper and deeper into the fat milky stomach of the snowman, violently leaving its stains even outside the bold outlines.
I sighed as I moved up from the page. My eyes still stung, but I was happy. My snowman was ready. Its antlers and nose brown, its body a shade darker. The color of dark chocolate. The color of chestnuts. The color of coffee beans.
I looked at the image and smiled. There, now the snowman is ugly too. Just like me.
__________________________________________
Frank Kowal received his bachelor's and master's degrees in education and English from the Brooklyn Center of Long Island University. Now, after 46 years of teaching in NYC's public schools and colleges, he has started what he hopes is a new career in writing. He has had a short story published in Academy of the Heart and Mind, and essays published in Adelaide and Literary Yard. |
“No, Professor, You’re Wrong Again!”
Teaching English full time at a local community college for over 40 years had been a wonderful experience—until I stood in front of my last evening class before my June retirement.
The course I was assigned to teach at night was SC-E 100: How to Succeed in College. It was a class designed strictly for first-year students who worked during the day.
But in this class sat Thomas, a student who sat against a side wall, facing everyone with scheming eyes; a student who, for some inexplicable reason, began questioning the validity of nearly every topic I brought up for class discussion by making comments such as:
“Professor, we know why we’re all here. Can we please move on to a more meaningful topic?”
“Professor, we know we should visualize when we read.”
“Professor, we know how to use a textbook’s index.”
While a number of students started telling him to just shut up, I explained to him in class that I was simply following the course’s curriculum. But since his criticisms continued non-stop, when I finally did speak to him in the hallway, I told him that his comments were so annoying that they could possibly ruin his chances of getting letters of recommendation from his future professors, should he ever need such letters.
He definitely did not like what I was inferring, so after mulling things over for a while, he actually agreed to change his behavior.
Yet during the next class he started calling out all over again:
“No, professor, when you write a business letter to a person whom you don’t know, you do not have to start with Dear Sir or Madam. It’s perfectly okay to start with To Whom It May Concern. Everyone I know has done that, and they’ve always gotten a response. Also, Dear Sir or Madam is old fashioned.”
“No, professor, when looking for a job you don’t have to write a formal letter about yourself on a company’s employment web page. All you have to write on the web page is ‘Hey Human Resources’ and then add what you can do for the company, plus the salary you want.”
“No, professor, when going for an interview, you don’t have to wear a suit any more. Some of my friends, wearing everyday street clothes, have been interviewed for positions in large companies requiring extensive knowledge of computers and have gotten those jobs.”
Since I had been unable to correct Thomas’s behavior, I finally decided to just ignore him. He continued criticizing my lessons, and I continued conducting them as if he weren’t even in the room.
Week after week and month after month, that’s the way things remained.
Until the middle of June came with its final exams.
As I distributed the four-page SC-E 100 final to Thomas’s class, he had the gall to suggest that we all get together at a local restaurant afterwards for a farewell dinner.
I told him that I liked the idea, but that I wasn’t interested.
(I really wanted to tell him something else.)
END
The course I was assigned to teach at night was SC-E 100: How to Succeed in College. It was a class designed strictly for first-year students who worked during the day.
But in this class sat Thomas, a student who sat against a side wall, facing everyone with scheming eyes; a student who, for some inexplicable reason, began questioning the validity of nearly every topic I brought up for class discussion by making comments such as:
“Professor, we know why we’re all here. Can we please move on to a more meaningful topic?”
“Professor, we know we should visualize when we read.”
“Professor, we know how to use a textbook’s index.”
While a number of students started telling him to just shut up, I explained to him in class that I was simply following the course’s curriculum. But since his criticisms continued non-stop, when I finally did speak to him in the hallway, I told him that his comments were so annoying that they could possibly ruin his chances of getting letters of recommendation from his future professors, should he ever need such letters.
He definitely did not like what I was inferring, so after mulling things over for a while, he actually agreed to change his behavior.
Yet during the next class he started calling out all over again:
“No, professor, when you write a business letter to a person whom you don’t know, you do not have to start with Dear Sir or Madam. It’s perfectly okay to start with To Whom It May Concern. Everyone I know has done that, and they’ve always gotten a response. Also, Dear Sir or Madam is old fashioned.”
“No, professor, when looking for a job you don’t have to write a formal letter about yourself on a company’s employment web page. All you have to write on the web page is ‘Hey Human Resources’ and then add what you can do for the company, plus the salary you want.”
“No, professor, when going for an interview, you don’t have to wear a suit any more. Some of my friends, wearing everyday street clothes, have been interviewed for positions in large companies requiring extensive knowledge of computers and have gotten those jobs.”
Since I had been unable to correct Thomas’s behavior, I finally decided to just ignore him. He continued criticizing my lessons, and I continued conducting them as if he weren’t even in the room.
Week after week and month after month, that’s the way things remained.
Until the middle of June came with its final exams.
As I distributed the four-page SC-E 100 final to Thomas’s class, he had the gall to suggest that we all get together at a local restaurant afterwards for a farewell dinner.
I told him that I liked the idea, but that I wasn’t interested.
(I really wanted to tell him something else.)
END
Keith Burkholder has been published in Creative Juices, Sol Magazine, Trellis Magazine, Foliate Oak Literary Journal, New Delta Review, Poetry Quarterly, Scarlet Leaf Review, and Birmingham Arts Journal. He has a bachelor's degree in statistics with a minor in mathematics from SUNY at Buffalo (UB).
Gamma Rays come out of this French Bulldog’s eyes
This French Bulldog has powers. His name is Riley, and he is can destroy enemy spaceships this way. This is how he can protect planet Earth.
Riley is a strong dog. He is mentally powerful, and nothing makes him upset. He goes about life in a confident manner. He has had this gamma ray power ever since he was born.
This dog also has mental powers. He can use mental telepathy to communicate with different life throughout the solar system.
The universe is this dog’s domain. He loves being powerful and this means the world to him in general as well.
Riley has saved the planet Earth many times from unknown invaders. Planet Earth is a place where crime is taken seriously, especially with Riley.
Riley loves peace and serenity. He loves a place where people feel safe. He tries to keep planet Earth safe whenever he can.
The planet will always evolve. It is a place where people need to feel free and do not have to worry about problems.
Problems will always occur on Earth. Whether it is from outsiders or from people who reside on this planet in general.
I wish Riley well in his future endeavors. May the planet remain crime free due to his existence? This is all anyone can hope for as the future calls us with its beckoning call.
Riley is a strong dog. He is mentally powerful, and nothing makes him upset. He goes about life in a confident manner. He has had this gamma ray power ever since he was born.
This dog also has mental powers. He can use mental telepathy to communicate with different life throughout the solar system.
The universe is this dog’s domain. He loves being powerful and this means the world to him in general as well.
Riley has saved the planet Earth many times from unknown invaders. Planet Earth is a place where crime is taken seriously, especially with Riley.
Riley loves peace and serenity. He loves a place where people feel safe. He tries to keep planet Earth safe whenever he can.
The planet will always evolve. It is a place where people need to feel free and do not have to worry about problems.
Problems will always occur on Earth. Whether it is from outsiders or from people who reside on this planet in general.
I wish Riley well in his future endeavors. May the planet remain crime free due to his existence? This is all anyone can hope for as the future calls us with its beckoning call.