Boring Scotland was boring my brains out of my boring head. Why did we have to come all the way out in the middle of fucking nowhere? I swear the changes parents make their teenage daughters go through. We just arrived off the boring plane, and I’m in my own personal boring cab and will be at my “supposively” boring new home. With dad being a constructor for castles in Europe, I guess it would make perfect goddamn sense to be here in Scotland. We are moving in one of those castles. It was a towering three stories, was completely made of large stone, gray, brick exteria, but the interia was more dark red in color making it dark . Unless you open a heavy curtain. Moving here from the US was a major impact.
“You can finally live in a castle like a princess, like you wanted.” Mom exclaimed excited for dad and persauding me to come.
Yeah, when I was like six. I had commented to myself. I was happy for my dad but it was a change when I had just finally settled in with my high school. I had been trying to settle since fifth grade through my middle school, to now in my second year of high school.i had just been accepted in with really two great friends. Chantelle and Simone. Then I find myself packing my bags for Scotland.
The cab driver turned left into a long narrow stretch of road. Left and right, both sides, were farms stretching out vastly beyond eye sight with boring cows, grazing boringly, and had that dumb and bored look on their faces. After another fifteen minutes and passing inlets to more road and houses, I had realized if you continue straight continuously it’s actually a driveway to the castle I am living in now. The cab pulled to a stop and heaved and backfired with a puff of black smoke. I opened my door and let myself out and my hightops crushed small rocks and pebbles underneath me.
“Rose get your bangs out of your eyes!” mom called out. My back was towards her but she knew my long bangs draped over my left eye. I rolled my eyes with my back stilled turned before I lifted the trunk of the cab and grab all my bags that held everything.
Trudging up the stairs up to the third floor where my room and Abigail’s room located. Bad mix. Trouble ahead. Look out new nanny. Abigail absolutley hates me to death. I just hate her because it is fun to get on her last nerve. I dropped my suitcases down on the floor and studied my room.
A semi-circle shaped bed was against the wall directly in front of the fireplace and above that was the flat-screen plasma TV. The floor was stone, smooth and cool. I had a large stone balcony with thick stone railings like in the scene of Romeo and Juliet. Where Juliet had confessed her love for Romeo and he had heard everything. I am familiar with Shakspeare’s work and have been ever since seventh grade. It was early in the morning. Four o’clock in the fuckin’ morning. We left the airport around nine o’clock. I am somehow full of energy, guess it was cause I was sleeping the whole way. I had to be at school in three hours and Abigail was energy full looking. I hooked up my setero and attached my ipod to it. I turned it up fullest volume and played my loudest song that would annoy Abby in the ajascent room. It was my loudest and dirtiest Godsmack song I had. The ear peircing volume had no effect on me even the slightest. I am so used to the loud screamo music thudding in my ear I love screaming loud beats. I kept adjusting my speakers and then hell bardged in my room with it’s highheels.
“Turn it off!” she screamed over the music. When it got to the“Fuck you!!!”part I let it be my answer
“Oh, my god you fucking emo freak of a sister!” she continued to yell as I finished my left speaker.
“I love you too.” I say in my regular voice volume adjusting the placement of my speaker, then rose to my feet. “You are going to damage your ears!” she continued. “Oh, my fucking god! Would you please shut the fuck up! I hate that you complain all the fucking time. It’s fucking annoying goddamn!” Abby pissed me off big time. I took my index finger and turned the knob for the volume even louder. “Don’t you ever tell me how to live my life again bitch!” I snapped.
Abby slapped me on my cheek. It turned my head and she ran off. “Fucking whore.” I murmur under my heavy demonic sounding breath. I chased after her. I caught up and pushed her down the stairs where she stopped on her back at the foot of the first step upwards. I swung over the wood railings and landed with my feet stomping the ground on both sides of her head. “Why’d ya run?” then she kicked me and I was knocked on my stomach. She got to her feet and I did too instantaneously. We ran to the kitchen, trying to fake right and fake left each other over the conter in the middle of the kitchen. “I ran cause I know how much of the devil you are!” she answered my retorical question. “At least I didn’t sleep with half of Orange High’s student body!” I insulted. “Ha! You’re one to talk. I haven’t been arrested three times!” Abby snapped quickly. “I’m not a slut like you, Rose.”
“No, your not.” I admitted. “Youarea cock-eating, dick-suckin, teenage fucker who is nothing more than bitch-ass whore!” I ducked suddenly and in perfect time. Abby had thrown a glass bowl at my head. I saw her run into the lounging room. I dashed after her sorry ass but when I stepped my right foot in Abby tackeled me from behind and we fell to the floor. We pulled each other’s hair, slapped each other, and punched each other.
“You bitch!” we screamed.
“Hey, hey, hey!” our new nanny’s voice ringed in. “What are you two ladies doing?” she pulled Abby off of me and I got to my feet. “What is the matter with you Americans?” her accent heavy with that Scottish twang.
Abby walked off and stomped up the stairs annoyingly. I had realized that my setero was still thudding through the walls and ceilings.
“Me and Abby have our typical sister issues.” I replied to the poor clueless nanny. If she thought that was hell…just wait and see. Wait and see.
In my room I had to get ready for my first day in Soaring Heights. It too was a castle but of course much larger than ours. Because of it being so late in the last semester of the school year I was not required to wear a uniform and I didn’t want to waste money on a boring uniform if all I’m gonna do is rip it, tear it, and dye it. So I wore this long t-shirt that was gray but had a red smeared handprint across it and it gave the appearance I was in a struggle with a person I was murdering. I slipped on my leggings that were gray but had black lace and a flower pattern that too was black. I slipped on and tied my classic black hightops but they were long enough to go to my mid thigh. My make-up was already done. Black metalic eyeliner, mascara, and it gave me that silver, black, and white sprakle in a mist way. Like when you look at a paint job on a car and when it passes by you and the angles you quickly see it looks like it shimmers from gray to purple to green to blue to red to orange. I had a shoulder rectangular bag that I wore on my left shoulder but it bounced against my right thigh. It was to be at school in thirty minutes. I had to ride on bike though. The only reason Abby is not going it because the senior classes had exploded in a science lab inicdent. So the seniors will pass the rest of the semester without attending the last month.
Pedaling down the narrow roads was a breeze but arriving on the streets was a different thing. It was deserted. Nothing really insight and obstacles insight weren’t much to look at. The morning air was coloorful but not uplifting. It was more of an intense and strongly powerful emotions seemed to seep out of think air like it had been sliced and the thickness was oozing it’s way out. When I approached closer to Soaring Heights Campus immediately eyes were gazing, whispers are exchanged, and the students had a major reaction to me.
I tried to act normal instead of straing back at the zillion eyes glued to me. I steered my bike to the bike racks they had set up for students. There are four and each is legiable to hold six. I took out my lock from my bag and hooked it up to connect the bike to the sqwiggly rail. I had continued to act like I knew what I was doing, which I did know what the hell I was doing, and made my way to the main office. I pushed open the door and let my eyes scan the office absentmidedly while strutting to the desk woman.
“How may I help you…” she paused staring down at me and observed my clothing. “ma’am.” She finished in an awkward voice. More like a judgemental voice and had a pinch of “I-know-this-girl-is-going-to-be-trouble” tone. “Yes,” I say with the same tone only mine was more like “this-bitch-is-going-to-get-on-my-fucking-nerves”. “You can help me. I need to be on the G Hall and I don’t know where it is.”
“It’s the fifth floor and the second hall. It should say ‘G Hall’ in gold lettering on the hall.” The woman instructed more nicely. Curling my lips into a short smile I said thank you and walked out. I looked to the nearest staircase. Oh, my fucking god. It was built like fucking Hogwarts. It would take me til the end of the day to get up to the fifth floor. I trudged up the wide stone steps and my steps echoed throughout like whispers of ghosts. As more time passed I had realized it was just four minutes after the homeroom bell. Shit!
I began jogging more upwards and finally made it to the fifth floor. I entered through the left hall and there were fifteen different rooms on this floor. I was lost. I know what room I suppose to be in, Social Studies but they didn’t have the fucking rooms labled. Double shit! I kept sneaking glances in each room I passed and saw one with a female teacher finely dressed and had a map on the screen. I had assumed it was social studies. I opened the door pulling it open and stepped in the somewhat large room with maybe twenty to thirty students. I looked to the teached and gave her my note of who I was. Then breifly turned my head facing the class who was staring back at me.
“Oh! Ms. Mitchell!” the teacher exclaimed ethusiastically. “Welcome to Soaring Heights.” She turned to the class. “Class, this is Rosalina Mitchell. She is from the USA. So I want you students to behave yourselves and welcome Miss Mitchell to Scotland.” The class and I remained silent. This wasn’t kindergarden anymore lady. She turned back to me. “Rosalina you can take your seat beside Julia. Heads turned to Julia. I black haired girl with creamy milk skin and bright blue eyes. She remained the calm one glaring at me. I had set my stuff down on the floor the teacher had said, “You came at perfect goo timing, we were just about to get into American heritage. What music do you listen to there?”
I thought of a good response. “We have a different variety of music, country, rock, metal, screamo, hip hop, rap, pop, R&B, comtemporary christian, and mixture of all music.”
“I’m sorry what was that third genre?”
“Screamo.” I say shifting my eyes back and forth.
“Here, let’s have a treat for the class. I’ll let you search up some music you listen in America. You can try screamo first.” She urdged.
Lifting an eyebrow, all the songs that I knew were explicit in so many ways it wasn’t even funny. “Um,” I protested. “I don’t think it would be appropreiate for school considering certain words in the music.”
“Oh, it’s ok, you won’t get in trouble. I promise. It’s just for this class. As long as it is American then you’ll be fine Miss Mitchell.”
I shrugged and walked to the front of the class again and went to youtube.com where no particular song came to mind. “I don’t know what song to choose.” I say.
“Class choose a letter from the alphabet.”
“F!” someone called out.
First song that came to mind was Freaxx by BrokenCyde. I clicked on the music video and the song played. The tone was stratling the students and eyebrows were raised up to space. Suddenly I felt like I wouldn’t be liked because of this choice. Triple shit!
Then suddenly Julia stood up and started dancing very American. Swaying her hips, clapping her hands, and thrusting her shoulders different paces. I smiled. She was trying to make the fun of it. Suddenly more of the class one by one, then three by three, then everybody was out of their seats dancing to the pulsing music. I couldn’t help but dance with them. When Freaxx was over they wanted me to continue. I decided to stick with more BrokenCyde music and choose Get Crunk. The proper Social Studies class was like a small club filled with sophmores in uniforms.
Julia came over to me.
“Thank you!” I say over the loud laptop pouring out screamo.
“No problem! It’s always difficult to be the new girl!” she said loud.
We exchanged smiles and started dancing again. The bell had rung near the end of Get Crunk, students excitedly grabbed their bags and left the class room and chatter and blah blahs echoed louder than the music in the hall all about what happened in Social Studies.
I left the room in a dash and hurried to my next class. Science.
Julia and I had the same third period too and we sat next to each other. We were about twenty minutes into class and the teacher babbling crap about some scientific subject and I sneakily tucked my headphones into my ears and pretended to listen. The earphones were designed to not make even a whisper of sound on the outside, so the loudest volume could not be heard by a person two inches away from you. I drowned out everything from my senses. A folded up piece of notbook paper landed right in front of me. I unfolded it and read the writing.
Nice music last period
How about you and I get fuckin freaky after school?
Circle Yes or No
Oh, my fucking god! It was a kind of feeling that takes you by major surprise. It was like I felt turned on but then it was written by a creeper. Who the fuck is Cameron? I turned my head behind me and right diagonal from me down there he was. Holy Hell! I turned back my head to the sheet of paper. What the fuck?! He’s fucking hot as hell! His brown rusty hair was dyed a caramel color for his bangs and boys who dye there hair were always sexy to me in some way. I turned my head slightly again. He was glowering at me! We held eye contact for what seemed like moments of days. His eyes were a dark, deep blue. He brought up his hand and bent his fingers in the waving fashion. His smile pleasing and knew what he wanted. OMFG!!!
I circled “No”.
I didn’t want to lose my virginty to him. I just got here. Even though he turned me on it doesn’t mean he’s good for me. But damn he is hot. But I don’t need to waste my time for getting in trouble with whoever was in charge, the, I don’t know, sex police saying having unmarrital sex is against religion or law. I don’t need the other trouble. I made a promise to myself to not make anymore bad descions. I never want to ever make a mistake likethatagain.
I tossed back the note over my shoulder and behind me I heard it crumble with the unfolding process. Then I went back to drowning out the world from me.
Not ever do I want to make any choice like that. It had made perfect sense at the time but now looking back on it, I would have never met Julia. Instant friendship formed!:) I want this to be different. Never would I do that choice again. I have to keep that promise to myself.
School was just average. It didn’t really make such a difference. Only I did have eyes gazing at me for my clothing. I went down the stairs and onto the bike rails. Unhooking my lock I had just happen to unconciously look up and leaning against the school’s walls. He certainly didn’t go here. He dressed wickedly. Black skinny jeans, black boots, black shirt with a black jacket with earbuds hanging from the uselss tightening strings. His hair black, pale skin, and dark gray eyes. I lifted an eyebrow and thought to myself.
Damn! How many hot guys live in Scotland? I turned away from him casually like I had just been casual and it was just a glance and a thought nothing really important more. I stuffed my lock in my bag and began to steer my bike away.
Cameron was suddenly in front of me.
“Oh, my fucking god!” I shouted in shock. “Cameron you scared the fucking shit out of me.”
“Sorry, and hey, I’m sorry about the note in Science.” He apologized.
“Oh, no it’s fine. Trust me, all is forgiven.”
“I was wondering if instead of what I said, if we could just hang out. And not like a boy and girl thing, but if being friends with you is all I’m gonna get, I might as well enjoy it.” He said laughing at his own pun. I couldn’t help but laugh too. Not because it was true but because he was not as strong determined as I would expect. He treats me like a person, not a girl! That’s sweet. It touches me to see that instead of just sex, Cameron just likes me as a person.
“Sure, I don’t mind at all. In fact, Cameron, I would be glad if we hung out. And I need to know Scotland around here. Are there any Hot Topics here?” I asked.
“Yeah, in fact there’s this whole store the size of wal-mart where you’re from. But I haven’t bothered going in because it seemed…strange.” He admitted.
“Well, have no fear, Rose the Hot Topic Lover is here!” I say playfully sprouting out my arms like a stupid cheerleader. We laughed.
“Call me Rose.” I corrected.
“Rose, how about tonight? Around seven?” he asked nervously and uncertain.
I shrugged like it was no big deal to sweat over. “Yeah, that actually perfect, I can skip out on my dad’s cooking tonight.” I joked.
“Ok, I’ll see you tonight then Rose.” Cameron good-byed.
“See ya tonight!” I say swinging my leg over my bicycle seat and started pedaling.
“Hey Sweetie!” mom called from the lounging room. “How was your first day?”
“Good mom, and is it ok if I go to this major sized Hot Topic with a new friend?” I asked permission. “With who?” she asked.
“Do you have your dad and I’s number unblocked from your cell phone?”
“Yes.” I answered annoyed
“Are you going to have sex?”
“How old is he?”
“He’s a sophmore.”
“Is he hot?”
“Mom!” I cried. “Can I go? Stop playing around.”
“Sure, when is he coming over?”
“Aww, too bad you’re going to miss out on dad’s cooking.” Mom complained weakly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll eat.” I assured.
“Ok, see you back here at ten.”
“Ok!” I say turning and stomped on the steps to my room.
Seven had came soon. School had let out at one o’clock and time flies fast here in Scotland. Because Cameron is sixteen he is legal to drive and we drove a good twenty mintues to that super-sized Hot Topic. The building was black with neon colors for their north, south, east, and west Hot Topic entrances.
We entered through the south entrance. Colorful displays of graphic tees nailed to the red velvet colored wall, the music medium volume and perfect for even friends to communicate with each other. Asscerories were placed more further towards the middle of the store, the racks stuffed with dark, neon, and colorful skinny jeans, and shirts for sale. The north entrance was for more dying coloring of hair. The east was the vans, converse, and sneakers section, the west was the music and entertainment. People with peircings, dyed hair, and heavy clothing wandered, monitored, and clerked the store.
“So, you’ve never been here before?” I asked Cameron.
“No, not ever.”
“Well, let me try to fuck up your wardrobe as much as I can and see if you like your new style.” I said taking his wrist.
A short ten minutes later Cameron and I had agreed on four new complete outfits: red skinnies with black thick horizontal lines, black skinnies, maroon colored skinnies, and blue jean skinnies, a graphic tee that was red but had Gir on it eating waffles, a tee that read in a purple-gray color writing, “BC13!”, a pink shirt that read in black writing, “Get Your Crunk On”, and a jacket in green, blue, orange, and pink splatter pattern, with neon green earbud built in the jacket.
“You like it?” I asked him.
“Very hot.” I commented.
“Let’s look for something for you.” He said. “Ok.” I agreed.
A long two hours I had five outfits with maybe some extra if you mix and match: a pair of white skinnies, red skinnies, gray skinnies with black verticle thick lines, and two pairs of black skinnies, three graphic tees: one was black with a rainbow of words that read, “Teach Me How To Scream”, second one was white with a purple kute Hello Kitty that said “Free Hugs”, and the last graphic tee was an Asking Alexandria shirt with a yellow scene with a bunny and a zombie. The other two shirts were, District 12 from the bookThe Hunger Games, and one that is dark blue and read in white Camp Half-Blood from the novel,The Lighting Theif.
It was forty after nine. Might as well get back home.
Cameron had me back on time and when I closed my door, with the bags on my arms I went around the driver’s side and squated to face Cameron.
“Thank you. You’re a good friend. I’m actaully glad you passed me that note or else we wouldn’t have met.” I confessed. I snuck a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight Cam!” I shouted walking away.
I closed the door after I had waved a final good-bye.
“Hello Honey, how was your date?” Dad asked.
“It wasn’t a date, dad, I just went out with one of my new guy friends.” I said.
“So basically, how was your date?” dad repeated.
“Touche.” I say as I admit it does sound like a daye but it was just a hangout. “Well I’m off to bed, see you tomorrow dad.” I climbed up the long stairs again. So much climbing with stairs this long day.
I set my bags down by my drawers where all my clothes were. I took off my bloody pattern shirt, loosened my high hightops and slid them down my legs and off my feet. I stripped myself down and clothed back in gray sweat pants, a holy white t-shirt and put my hair up sloppily in a ponytail. I flopped on my back onto my semi-circle bed and stared at the ceiling. All I was missing was coming back and I didn’t want it to. Those rumors spreading around about me at Orange High, the lies they make, they’re the ones that make the world full of hatred. I’ve done nothing but party without any harm to anybody. Gossip, lies, just shit that made me who I am. With everything wrong in the fucking world, it was difficult to cope well.
I put my palms to my eyes. My cheeks were soaked within seconds. No one was going to be able to comfort me. I was left to help myself. Weeping was one of those things. Tears are what seem to me like, all the bad things were being washed away from my memory inside my veins. Everything ugly, bad and infectious inside me was being drained with tears and they showed my face how much I do care about what goes on in my life. I’ve had enough of tears for my life, I need to dry myself.
Sitting at my vanity I looked deeply into my reflection. I saw a sad, defenseless girl who was lost in the world. The redness of her skin was warm and wet, the blackness of her hair was deep into eternity, and her pale skin was like it was touched by a gray, polished pearl color. My long bangs were combed to the side as the tips were dyed green to blue to purple. Who am I? Behind all that I appear?
Wiping my face dry I had felt the night air grow heavy on me. Do you know that feeling when someone stares at you and you can feel their gaze? Probably classmates have done it or strangers who see a difference in you from them or the people around them. But that feeling of being watched, stalked, and observed was making my stomach endlessly plumit to nowhere. I turned around slowly then before I even knew what was happening I was pinned to the wall and cold breath was surrounding my neck. I tried to push back on what felt hard like marble but I had been prepared for anything like this since I was fourteen. I searched egarly for my knife and stabbed it hard in my attacker’s side. A scream in horror and unexpectancy of pain. I ran for the bedroom door but I had to turn around and see what was happeing. Making sure it was real and not another SPA experience. It was a man, tall, lean with muscle, and all in black just like…just like that guy who watched me undo my bike after school.
A million situation rushed through my head like a tornado and gave me an annoying brain pain.
I was being dragged to the floor and my head was beside the bloody knife and in reaching distance. I tried to stab the unknown stranger in his collar area but he kept dodging and moving to extremely fast. I couldn’t see his face, it was just a zig-zaging blur. Finally I closed my eyes and took a leap of faith lodging the knife into the section where his neck and collar area met. Again a scream in such terror and next to my ears rung my head. I ran towards the stone balcony and had entrapped myself with this attacker who was more determined than a horny motherfucker in a Red Flag Zone. With the streets flooded, might I add.
He was slowing dramatically. Reached out his arm and his hand had touched my cheek tenderly, I noticed the sudden gentleness and looked down on his bowed head.
“Please,” he begged coughing up blood from this throat. “Please, help me.” Then he had fell on me and dragged me down with him. His chest rested on my lap and his arms limp. Heavily breathing, chest heaving, I tried to remove him from me. He felt weak. I felt his ribs through his torso. I quickly got to my feet and ran to the door. My fingers were curled around the knob then I stopped. Facing the gritty wood of the door I turned stutterly around and saw his body lay on my balcony. Dead was what he looked like. Dying right in my sight and I want to kill him for his attack. How could I trust him? I was too loving to let him die. Not alone. No one should ever die alone. That actually the worse way to die. Alone, with no one to listen to your last words, to not hear any last words, to not see anyone you love before you drifted into black death. I know how that feels.
I threw his arms over my shoulders and tried my best to carry him to my bed for rest. Blood kept seeping out of his body. Think quick you, stupid-ass! I ran outside my door and closed it. “Mom!” I called out for her to answer.
“What baby?” she replied in a muffled voice.
“Where are the bandages?”
“What did you do now?” mom complained.
“Nothing, just incase for future reference.” It wasn’t all a lie.
“In Abby and your’s bathroom second drawer fist coloum.” Mom instructed.
“Thank you ma’am!” I said.
“You’re welcom sweet—snore” she was cut off from passing out. She went back to sleep. I grabbed the white bandages and raced back against time to my room. I opened and slammed the door closed and made it to myy bed in less than three seconds, yes I new record!
I proped up my attacker and began wrapping the white stretchy healing tape around his neck which was clearly open from all the red that stained his pale skin. With my hand being so close to his cool skin it seemed that we had the same colored skin. That polished gray pearl color. Not that our skin tone shined or was greasy but it was a dull in shine but it was a natural good dull.
I lifted up his black shirt and to his side it was like a war field from an arial veiw his body was the defenseless ground and like the ground at the end of a battle it was torn, beaten, and stained with crimson blood. I dabbed it with my gray sweat pants and tried my very best to clean his wound up. I wrapped the badages around his torso. As soon as I was finished rubbing close to his wound he shot up in beads of sweat on his forehead and his breathing was deep and fast. I fell backwards and on my bottom and waited for a reaction from him.
He gripped his neck and torso and felt all over his body and realized he was ok and looked at me. Suddenly within milli-seconds he was in my face close enough for his cold breath to be crawling on my skin again. His lips next to my ear whispered softly, “Thank you, thank you.” He pulled away and I saw his clear face. Pale, eyes dark gray almost pure black and big to capture my attention, face wide enough to hold any expression, his mouth looked pure and moist the perfect shade of faded pink, his chin was dimpled. His black hair was somewhat long. His came to an end in the middle of his neck, his bangs swished to the side but still in his face covering come of his eyes in the most mysterious way that made me want to do many things with him. He is the hottest guy I have ever laid my eyes on. Mezmerized so easily by the simple shifting of his eyes observing me I had nearly gone into a complete daze then I realized he was on top of me.
“You’re welcome, but can you please get off of me.” It was not a question it was a simple demand. He sat on his knees and I crossed my legs and we stared at one another for god knows how long.
To break the silence I wanted him to answer questions I have.
“What’s your name?”
“Alexander. What is your’s?”
“Rosalina. Rose for short. Now why the fuck did you attack me?”
His breaths were stammering the air between us and he couldn’t come up with either a good explaination or a believable lie.
“I need food fast.” He demaded not harshly but basic needily.
“Ok, what do you want? I can go make it and bring it back up here.” I offered.
He shook his head. “No, I need to be at the nearest cow farm…please, will you come with me?”
“What the fuck is going through your head? After our little struggle I don’t know if I want to go anywhere with you, Alexander.” I say. For some reason, his name said from my lips were like tasting pound cake for the first time. Sweet, new, fresh, and different. I liked saying his name. Alexander…
“Please, it would explain a lot more for you to see. Rose,” he begged. “please come with me and I swear to you, your life will be different from your old one.”
“You know nothing about my life!” I shouted turning defensive. “You don’t know what I have been through!”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through either and I am offering you a chance at experiencing something different and I know for a fact you have not seen this in your life before.” Alexander assure.
It intrigued me how he made having a new experince make me want to come but not stupid descions. “How can I know you will not harm me or anyone I love?” I asked.
“If something does happen to harm you even the slightest pinch, because of me, I will gladly let you kill me if it harms you.” He swore.
It was touching. Deep. Something I can’t describe in words. “Ok.” I agreed. “I’ll come, but I have to come back safe and sound.”
“Promise.” Alexander assure and on the balcony’s railing like he was ready to leap for death. He turned to me and reached out his strong hand. “You can trust me. I won’t attack you.” Hesitating at first then going through my fear I took hold of his hand and he lifted me effortlessly onto his back where my arms coiled around his neck like a snake does to the trunk of a tree. “Ready?” he asked.
“I guess,” I said hesitantly. “Wait you mean you’re going to jump from the third floor?” I asked scared. Alexander had leaped from the balcony and with his legs in the motion of running he was running on air literally. As we descended he moved further and faster in speed. Accelerating to an intense speed I was afriad to even loosen my grip on him it seemed like three seconds then he haulted and ii let go. My legs wobbly and unstable. I fell on my ass and straightened my eye sight from seeing quints I normally saw singles.
Alexander entered the barn where cows were held and an irrated and deepmoooooocame from the stables. I curled into a ball and thought of my memory that I regreted so much and how could Alexander know about that? My family, dad, mom, and Abby keep it secret. Not even my grandparents know about what had happened. Only the four of us knew. I may listen to screamo but my two real good songs are In the Arms of the Angel and You raise me Up. Those songs keep me here on earth. Just wandering that my favoriate person is still watching down on my judgements and choices. He raises me up. He still does, but that’s in my heart, is it really him keeping me here? Or is it that I have to find someone else who can?
“Rose?” Alexander asked lifting up my chin where our eyes met. His lips redder than the pale soft pink they were a few seconds ago. “You didn’t see what just happened?”
I shook my head taking my wrists and wiping them across my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Crying? You have no need to be ashamed anything.” He assured his arms coiling around my back.
I needed to get the topic off me. “Why did you bring me out here?” I asked.
“I originally came here to eliminate your sister, but I had mistaken you for your sister—”
“Well why didn’t you get her at the house? How could you mistake that slut for me?” I interuppted.
“My mistake, sorry.” He apologized then continued. “but I had never wanted to hurt you. I actually wanted you to be safe.”
“Well, if what you say is true…are you like my stalker person?” I asked.
“No, I’m not a stalker person. But I am something that I want to reveal to you. Do you know what I am Rose? If you do, tell me what you know about what I am. Think of all the facts that were left out in your prescence.”
“Oh, my fucking god!” I realized. My face wide. How could he be who he is? Is it natural? it must be. It is rare though. “You’re cannaibal!”
Alexander dropped his head like a person would do if they were annoyed or dissapointed or a mix of both. He raised his head and I could tell he was preventing himself from being angry at me for some reason. “What makes you think I am cannaibal?”
“You tried to attack me, then you drunk cow blood which is the closest blood to a human. So you’re cannaibal!” I said.
His hand flew to his face. “Oh, my god. You are so lucky I am so attached to you.”
“For once in my life I am actually saying to a guy,” I said. “Don’t be in love with me!”
“Can you honestly blame me for being in love with you?”
“Yes.” I said raising my eyesbrows. “I am not a good person to be inlove with. I—I—” I stammered and I couldn’t finish that sentence. I almost blurted what I am screamed at my therapist.
I looked away from Alexander. Staring at the barn but my mind racing, shifting, twisting, and exploding with thoughts and memories. I bit my lip hard enough to taste a little blood. Alexander backed away from me quickly and suddenly. I shifted my eyes to him. He was holding something back like he needed to barf. He held his nose between his fingers and covered his mouth with both of his palms. I got to my feet. I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are you ok?” I asked cautiously approaching him.
It was complete silent for large moments. It was so intense that it clawed up my skin like a desperate demon escaping the light of heavan.
“What are you, Alexander?” I asked.
He took in a deep heavy breath and said, “Vampire.”