Bloody Little Secrets

by Karly Kirkpatrick

  *

  The house was empty. The silence pressed against me. Sue would be out for the evening, and I had a few hours until the ice cream date. I trudged upstairs, then threw my school bag on the bed. I collapsed on the floor in front of the fridge. My salvation. My curse.

  I didn’t want to open that door. But then again I did. I wanted it so badly. My mouth watered at the thought, remembering now that lunch was quite a while ago. The fangs slid down into my mouth. I tried to turn away, but my body wouldn’t let me. I just wanted to go back a week in time, well, maybe two. Back to my cozy house and my parents and my annoying little brother.

  I ran my hand down the front of the fridge and pulled the tiny key from my pocket. There was no avoiding it. I unlocked it and swung the fridge open. Only two bags left. I picked one up, feeling the thick red liquid slosh around in the bag inside my hand. It was heavy. This was life that I was holding. I was taking the opportunity of life from someone else, someone who possibly needed it to survive. But it was better than the alternative—taking it from the source. Besides, I needed it to survive as well. And drinking this, well, it was definitely saving lives.

  I sat on the bed and folded my legs. I plugged in the hose-like valve that would attach to a person’s I.V. And I sipped the blood bag empty, just like it was a juice box full of fruit punch. My cells rejoiced as the blood shot down my throat. I almost didn’t want to taste it. I didn’t want to enjoy it. This was wrong. I was wrong. A mutant created to destroy life. And yet, I had no idea who destroyed my life to create me. I leaned against the wall as I drained the second bag, deciding that it did no good to hate myself. I didn’t choose this. But when I found the person, the being, the monster that did, they would pay.