Post by shiina on Jan 4, 2010 21:54:45 GMT -5
Kayla stared at Morgan for a moment. "You aren't mad at Lily even a little?" She asked, bewildered.
"No way am I mad! Why would I be? It's the opposite. I love vampires, I've always wanted to be one. You know that, Kayla. Wow, I never thought they were actually real! This is so cool!" Morgan mushed, begining to babble.
I felt the need to end her rant, before she began another string of babbling. "Morgan," I said, putting a hand haltingly on her shoulder, "you're babbling, stop."
She giggled and stood up. Kayla and I got up as well, attempting to brush of as much of the dirt, leaves, and dry, rust-colored blood as would come off our clothes.
"We should go in," I said, "to get cleaned up and maybe get some rest in a real bed if we have time. I think we could all use some of that."
Nobody spoke on the slow, long walk back to my house. Morgan stared vacantly into space and I noticed, looking to my other side, that Kayla was walking with a slight stagger. A distant and irritating voice in mthe back of my mind pointed out solemnly that Kayla's weakness and Morgan's death and rebirth were both completely my fault. That small voice nagged me through every silence that day, and it still haunts me sometimes, despite what I now know. I'll get to that later, though.
I noticed Morgans breathing was still shallow and quick, as if she feared something. Her hand fumbled mindlessly with the necklace she was wearing. It wasn't hard for me to figure her out. She claimed, speaking too loud, smiling too big, that she was happy and excited about her new found vampirism. But she was afraid; I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. That slightly too quick speech, the rising and lowering of the pitch of her voice. The vacant expression, the way she was blinking more than usual, faster than usual. I didn't know what to say to her.
So I said nothing.
The first thing I did when we got back to my house was check the time. It was about eight-thirty, so my mom wouldn't be home until about six that night and Ben probably around noon. That would most likely be more than enough time for us to get cleaned up without rushing.
"Alright," I said, anding Morgan and Kayla clean towels and washrags from the laundry room, "you guys can go ahead and take showers first. I'll start the laundry and when one of you gets out, you can take over the laundry and I'll get one. One of you can use the shower in the basement and the other can use the one upstairs."
Kayla immediately handed me her towel and washrag back, "You got dirtier than me, you need the shower more than I do. I'll start the laundry." She said.
I glanced at the large, still-fresh wound on her arm and realized that was probably the real reason she was so hesitant to get in the shower. It looked like it hurt witout contact, I could only imagine how much pain running water would cause. I could have made her wash it out with Witch Hazel, but I knew a faster, more painless way to help her.
I opened the refridgerator and pulled out one of my blood-filled water bottles. "Drink this," I said, handing it to Kayla, "feel better."
Morgan and I both discarded our clothes in the laundry room and Morgan went to take a shower in the upstairs bathroom while I went downstairs to the basement bathroom. I could hear the laundry start upstairs, and soon after turned on the water for the shower.
I hopped in, washing all the blood and dirt off gratefully. I watched the bottom of the shower as the dark, red-brown water swirled around my feet, eventually reaching its final destination; the drain. I finally decided that I couldn't take the sight of it anymore; couldn't stand being reminded of what I had done, the nagging thought that kept repeating, "That's Morgans blood down there. Her life; and it's going down the drain," so I looked back up at the turqoise tile of the shower.
"I can't believe this is happening," I whispered aloud to myself, the words loud around me somehow, even over the roar of the water, "I'm sorry, Morgan."
She wold probably realize sooner or later that it wasn't a gift to be a vampire, and I figure she would eventually hate me, unleashing all her anger on me for what I had done. I had a vivid picture in my mind of her picking me up one handed by the throat. I swear I couldn't breathe just thinking about it. Her hand squeezed tighter and tighter, and i was now gasping for breath out loud. Then, she pulled me in, alarmingly close to her face, so close I could feel her breath against my skin. But how could I feel her breathing? That soft, warm, feeling with a twist of violence distressing it, yet still, it was what it was. Her breath was brushing against my face, no mistake. And suddenly, she thrust out her hand and released me, sending me flying.
I hit the turqoise tile of my shower wall, suddenly transported back to my own home. My breath came in short gasps. What was that? I brought my hand up to my sore, tender neck. It actually hurt, I was even thrown into the wall.
I stood in shock for a few long minutes, letting the water cascade down my sking, warm and relaxing, but not calming enough to make sense of what had happened. Finally, I heard a yell from Kayla, "Lily, are you okay?"
"Yeah," I shouted back. I heard her go back upstairs and quickly washed my hair and rinsed myself off. I decided then to put that experience out of my mind for the time being.
Robotically, I pulled on some fresh, clean clothes. My mind was in another universe, and my body was only acting out what was simply a memorized routine. I took a deep breath as I stood dressed at the foot of the stairs. Water dripped from my hair onto my foot. I didn't want to go up, to face Morgan. I didn't trust myself not to cry.
I knew I had to suck it up, and I knew I was overreacting. I had to face what I had done. With a sigh, I pulled myself together and made my way up the stairs slowly.
"No way am I mad! Why would I be? It's the opposite. I love vampires, I've always wanted to be one. You know that, Kayla. Wow, I never thought they were actually real! This is so cool!" Morgan mushed, begining to babble.
I felt the need to end her rant, before she began another string of babbling. "Morgan," I said, putting a hand haltingly on her shoulder, "you're babbling, stop."
She giggled and stood up. Kayla and I got up as well, attempting to brush of as much of the dirt, leaves, and dry, rust-colored blood as would come off our clothes.
"We should go in," I said, "to get cleaned up and maybe get some rest in a real bed if we have time. I think we could all use some of that."
Nobody spoke on the slow, long walk back to my house. Morgan stared vacantly into space and I noticed, looking to my other side, that Kayla was walking with a slight stagger. A distant and irritating voice in mthe back of my mind pointed out solemnly that Kayla's weakness and Morgan's death and rebirth were both completely my fault. That small voice nagged me through every silence that day, and it still haunts me sometimes, despite what I now know. I'll get to that later, though.
I noticed Morgans breathing was still shallow and quick, as if she feared something. Her hand fumbled mindlessly with the necklace she was wearing. It wasn't hard for me to figure her out. She claimed, speaking too loud, smiling too big, that she was happy and excited about her new found vampirism. But she was afraid; I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. That slightly too quick speech, the rising and lowering of the pitch of her voice. The vacant expression, the way she was blinking more than usual, faster than usual. I didn't know what to say to her.
So I said nothing.
The first thing I did when we got back to my house was check the time. It was about eight-thirty, so my mom wouldn't be home until about six that night and Ben probably around noon. That would most likely be more than enough time for us to get cleaned up without rushing.
"Alright," I said, anding Morgan and Kayla clean towels and washrags from the laundry room, "you guys can go ahead and take showers first. I'll start the laundry and when one of you gets out, you can take over the laundry and I'll get one. One of you can use the shower in the basement and the other can use the one upstairs."
Kayla immediately handed me her towel and washrag back, "You got dirtier than me, you need the shower more than I do. I'll start the laundry." She said.
I glanced at the large, still-fresh wound on her arm and realized that was probably the real reason she was so hesitant to get in the shower. It looked like it hurt witout contact, I could only imagine how much pain running water would cause. I could have made her wash it out with Witch Hazel, but I knew a faster, more painless way to help her.
I opened the refridgerator and pulled out one of my blood-filled water bottles. "Drink this," I said, handing it to Kayla, "feel better."
Morgan and I both discarded our clothes in the laundry room and Morgan went to take a shower in the upstairs bathroom while I went downstairs to the basement bathroom. I could hear the laundry start upstairs, and soon after turned on the water for the shower.
I hopped in, washing all the blood and dirt off gratefully. I watched the bottom of the shower as the dark, red-brown water swirled around my feet, eventually reaching its final destination; the drain. I finally decided that I couldn't take the sight of it anymore; couldn't stand being reminded of what I had done, the nagging thought that kept repeating, "That's Morgans blood down there. Her life; and it's going down the drain," so I looked back up at the turqoise tile of the shower.
"I can't believe this is happening," I whispered aloud to myself, the words loud around me somehow, even over the roar of the water, "I'm sorry, Morgan."
She wold probably realize sooner or later that it wasn't a gift to be a vampire, and I figure she would eventually hate me, unleashing all her anger on me for what I had done. I had a vivid picture in my mind of her picking me up one handed by the throat. I swear I couldn't breathe just thinking about it. Her hand squeezed tighter and tighter, and i was now gasping for breath out loud. Then, she pulled me in, alarmingly close to her face, so close I could feel her breath against my skin. But how could I feel her breathing? That soft, warm, feeling with a twist of violence distressing it, yet still, it was what it was. Her breath was brushing against my face, no mistake. And suddenly, she thrust out her hand and released me, sending me flying.
I hit the turqoise tile of my shower wall, suddenly transported back to my own home. My breath came in short gasps. What was that? I brought my hand up to my sore, tender neck. It actually hurt, I was even thrown into the wall.
I stood in shock for a few long minutes, letting the water cascade down my sking, warm and relaxing, but not calming enough to make sense of what had happened. Finally, I heard a yell from Kayla, "Lily, are you okay?"
"Yeah," I shouted back. I heard her go back upstairs and quickly washed my hair and rinsed myself off. I decided then to put that experience out of my mind for the time being.
Robotically, I pulled on some fresh, clean clothes. My mind was in another universe, and my body was only acting out what was simply a memorized routine. I took a deep breath as I stood dressed at the foot of the stairs. Water dripped from my hair onto my foot. I didn't want to go up, to face Morgan. I didn't trust myself not to cry.
I knew I had to suck it up, and I knew I was overreacting. I had to face what I had done. With a sigh, I pulled myself together and made my way up the stairs slowly.
