Post by Jynx Pandora on Aug 1, 2012 14:42:58 GMT -7
jynx pandora
49. FEMALE. VAMPIRE. PANSEXUAL.
All I can remember is that it burned. It hurt. Like I was being torn apart. I wanted to die. I remember screaming for release. I remember seeing death’s door. I remember teetering on the edge. And then swift nothingness. I remember she said it was all going to be okay, she rubbed my hair, I think that was the last time she ever looked at me with love. I did it for her, I became what I am for her. Everything I did before this I did for her. And everything I’ve done since was only to escape. To run. I never wanted to see her face again and if I’m lucky I never will.
I had a family once. Not much of one, but I can remember it. It’s not happy. It’s not good. Simply a memory of a time before what I was now. Back when I was a lowlife, before I had all of this power but it came with a price. And now I’m more of a monster than I ever was as an addict. That’s how I met her. It was either in-patient rehab or jail. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to jail. I remember the shakes, the withdrawal, I remember how she helped my hand. She told me I was perfect. A beautiful doll broken on the cement. Like a little crippled bird without feathers. She always had a way of making me love and hate myself at the same time. And when I got out, she was the one who put the needle back in my hand. She tied the rubber around my arm. And when I was flying high she asked me. ”Do you want to be together forever, my love?” And I said yes. Like a child. After that she hated me, she couldn’t stand to look at me. I was 20 when I left that city, when I ran from her life, from everything I knew. I wasn’t that girl anymore.
That’s when I ran north, with only a backpack and trying to find a place to sleep by day, hiding from the light. Living with a curse now. He found me then, curled in a broken down shed behind what was no doubt of less than legal business. He looked at me and he knew. He saw right through me and he knew what kind of person I was. The monster that lurked deep within me. I was cold, shaking, and high, he took me to his apartment. Offered me a shower. Clean clothes. And food. He presented his arm to me, a cut welling blood, I couldn’t help it. I clamped my mouth to his alabaster skin, the taste of human blood on my tongue when I’d been living on rats for so long was heavenly. And I almost couldn’t stop. He passed out and I carried him to his room. I couldn’t sleep but I couldn’t leave.
He let me stay with him. On his couch. This beautiful stranger who seemed to know exactly everything without my having to say a word. And I fell in love. Not like I had with her. This wasn’t induced by drugs, withdrawal or any sort of enablement. Simply because he was a kind being, he helped me when he could’ve left me or worse. He was sarcastic and withdrawn, and I found such childish awe in listening to his stories. Whether they were memories of his or stories of other people and times, he was never clear. My outbursts never seemed to bother him, keeping a calm collect tone even as I was read in the face screaming at him. And he held me when I said that I was sorry. I got clean. I worked hard. And I didn’t do it for someone else this time. I did it for me. Because he believed in me. Because he understood. Because once he’d been me. But she found me. 5 years of happiness. And she found me.
No matter how far I run, she always finds me. And no matter how hard I try to keep him safe, he always finds me. So I’ve come here, where tensions are high. Where no vampire in their right mind would go, when such a feud exists. Hiding away, only being seen by those who know where to look. My old habits have died hard, and even though it’s just a snort of coke here and there and cigarettes I can’t keep myself out of the culture. Selling drugs to all the lowlifes who would rather get high than eat. Go with what you know right?
I had a family once. Not much of one, but I can remember it. It’s not happy. It’s not good. Simply a memory of a time before what I was now. Back when I was a lowlife, before I had all of this power but it came with a price. And now I’m more of a monster than I ever was as an addict. That’s how I met her. It was either in-patient rehab or jail. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to jail. I remember the shakes, the withdrawal, I remember how she helped my hand. She told me I was perfect. A beautiful doll broken on the cement. Like a little crippled bird without feathers. She always had a way of making me love and hate myself at the same time. And when I got out, she was the one who put the needle back in my hand. She tied the rubber around my arm. And when I was flying high she asked me. ”Do you want to be together forever, my love?” And I said yes. Like a child. After that she hated me, she couldn’t stand to look at me. I was 20 when I left that city, when I ran from her life, from everything I knew. I wasn’t that girl anymore.
That’s when I ran north, with only a backpack and trying to find a place to sleep by day, hiding from the light. Living with a curse now. He found me then, curled in a broken down shed behind what was no doubt of less than legal business. He looked at me and he knew. He saw right through me and he knew what kind of person I was. The monster that lurked deep within me. I was cold, shaking, and high, he took me to his apartment. Offered me a shower. Clean clothes. And food. He presented his arm to me, a cut welling blood, I couldn’t help it. I clamped my mouth to his alabaster skin, the taste of human blood on my tongue when I’d been living on rats for so long was heavenly. And I almost couldn’t stop. He passed out and I carried him to his room. I couldn’t sleep but I couldn’t leave.
He let me stay with him. On his couch. This beautiful stranger who seemed to know exactly everything without my having to say a word. And I fell in love. Not like I had with her. This wasn’t induced by drugs, withdrawal or any sort of enablement. Simply because he was a kind being, he helped me when he could’ve left me or worse. He was sarcastic and withdrawn, and I found such childish awe in listening to his stories. Whether they were memories of his or stories of other people and times, he was never clear. My outbursts never seemed to bother him, keeping a calm collect tone even as I was read in the face screaming at him. And he held me when I said that I was sorry. I got clean. I worked hard. And I didn’t do it for someone else this time. I did it for me. Because he believed in me. Because he understood. Because once he’d been me. But she found me. 5 years of happiness. And she found me.
No matter how far I run, she always finds me. And no matter how hard I try to keep him safe, he always finds me. So I’ve come here, where tensions are high. Where no vampire in their right mind would go, when such a feud exists. Hiding away, only being seen by those who know where to look. My old habits have died hard, and even though it’s just a snort of coke here and there and cigarettes I can’t keep myself out of the culture. Selling drugs to all the lowlifes who would rather get high than eat. Go with what you know right?
BEE – ADMIN EDIT – SUMMER GLAU.
