by R. J. Rogue
"You alright?" Father asks.
I nod.
"Mathis and Agatha?" Bianca says.
"If they have returned, then this is only the beginning making Cedric the least of our problems," father says.
The ache returns and I bring a hand to my head and rub against it. I shake it off.
"We have to get them," Mike says. "Stop them while we have them here."
“No. I am more worried about how they found us," father says.
"Oh, almost forgot," I reach into my pocket and pull out the charm.
He smiles and bows his head as I place the charm around his neck. We help father to his feet. The dizziness returns and I try to ignore it once more, but it intensifies. My brain feels as though it is being punctured with pins and needles. I wince.
"We should get you back inside," mother says.
I look around and the place is a wreck.
"What happened?" I ask.
My family look at each other then back to me.
"You and Cedric destroyed the house."
I think for moment, and nod.
"Sorry, must've slipped my mind."
"Are you feeling alright, Evan?" Asks the curly red head. She is beautiful. Her eyes are gentle. And her skin is flawless.
"Yes," I respond. "Thank you for asking, um."
I try to get her to say her name. She waits for me to complete my sentence. Why not help me out here?
I look around at everyone else. Why is everyone staring at me like that?
"What's wrong?" I ask.
She stares into my eyes and I stare back.
"What's my name?" She asks.
I search for a clue from everyone else, but they all await an answer.
"What is my name, Evan?"
How does she know mine?
"I don't know, but you know mine. Tell me. What is your name?"
She shakes her head and slouches to the floor. She cups her hands to her mouth, then looks at me. The corner of her eyes begin to glisten into tears.
"Did I do something wrong?" I ask looking around.
"I--I'm Essence, Evan," she says. Her name doesn’t ring a bell. Everyone remains quiet. Mike looks away. Bianca’s face hugs the ground.
“You—love me,” she says.
“I—love you?”
"Yes," she says immediately. I look at everyone and let out a small chuckle.
"Whoa, that's uh. Pretty deep, I mean. I would know, right?" I smile. What kind of joke is this? We have more important things to worry about like Mathis, Agatha, and Cedric. Where are they headed?
"Is this some kind of a joke?" I ask. "We should be worrying about--"
"Why would you think it's a joke?" she asks.
"How can I love someone that I don't even know? I've never seen you a day in my life, but you say we are in love."
Her face hugs the ground. She's pained by my words, begging for the heart I don't have.
“So you were wrong. You said that you would remember."
"Remember? Remember what?"
"Take Evan inside please," my father says. I sniff the air and my stomach aches with hunger.
"That smell," I say stepping towards Essence. "It's -- it's--"
"Let's go, Evan," Mike says taking me by the arm with a strong grip. My eyes stay with hers as a tear leaves her eyelash and goes down her cheek.
"Essence," Bianca says. She whispers something to her and Essence nods her head. She turns away and before I can get another word out, they walk over to a truck that is nearby.
My mother, father, Mike, and Abel lead me inside.
"Who was that?" I ask them.
"My son," father says. "In due time."
Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Day Dreamer
It is my seventeenth birthday. The past couple weeks have been difficult dealing with this…thirst. I almost went insane with hunger when my father handed me a blood packet after the fight. The smell of blood is addictive. The taste, greatly irresistible.
The first few nights were horrid. Despite how hungry I was, I had refused to eat. One by one they’d come to my room and knock, trying to offer me blood. Explaining how it is important that I try. I smelled it though. Potent. But I just couldn’t see myself doing it.
The days and week that followed changed everything. The smell became much more irresistible. It was impossible to ignore. One night, Mike wasn’t taking no for an answer. He told me I was the most pale of everyone. An unhealthy pale. I laughed at the thought of a certain tone of ‘pale’ being unhealthy, but I understood what he meant.
And so he burst into my room, held it to my face, and when I smacked it from his hands, the beast within me burst free from its cage. The blood pack busted open, and before I knew it, I was on the floor, licking it off of the marble. I spent hours crying in my room afterwards. Hating myself for giving in.
The very color of it is such a pleasure to the eye. I would kill for it, but I shouldn't. My family is teaching me how to control the thirst to kill for blood. I laughed when they told me I use to be a vegetarian. They even oppose killing animals. Both acts seem to be a monstrosity to them, and so, we are fed -- by a human. A woman that works for a blood donor company that's just outside of the city.
They say she is a close friend. I've seen her a few times, but only from the window. Supposedly, I known her for years. All of them to be exact. She took care of you, they told me. She would drive up to the mansion and hand my father a supply of blood packets. My favorite type; O negative. It's sweet.
She would do as she always does and look up to my window before she leaves. I'd wave and she'd smile. Each time, despite how addicting she smelled from where I stood, I feel protective of her.
And the girl. The irrevocably beautiful, big curls of red hair to the shoulder, I was once in love with. Her name; Essence LaRoux. Today, I get to meet them both, Sarah, my stepmother, and Essence, my 'love.'
I have not been able to attend school nor do I remember much about school. Even though I’ve always attended, I’ll feel like a new student in every classroom. As people say my name, I will not know theirs. I wonder what excuse my family gave the school as to why I was gone. When I go back, will my thirst entirely be under control with all those people crowded around me? Or will I lose it?
It didn't take much time to repair the house from the damage caused by Cedric and I and since then, there has been no sign of him. No sign of his brother, Mathis, or sister, Agatha, but something tells me I’ll see them again. They will try to fight us. They will fail.
I can't remember much of how things were before I died. Each time I try, all I see is tension I had with Cedric, meeting my family, and Mike. Everything else is as choppy and random as a dream.
Mike and I sit on the lip of the bell.
"We should probably start getting ready," he says. "Some people are already here and more are coming."
He stands to his feet, and looks down at me.
"What are you thinking about, Ev?" He asks.
I shrug.
"When we die, and our soul lives on, what becomes our purpose?" I ask.
"To accept at we lived," he says.
"Then what was our purpose while we were alive?"
"To accept that we'll die."
"That's…tragic."
He laughs and pulls his hood over his head.
"What's the worry, Evan? We don't have a soul and we're already dead, remember?"
I look up to him and stand to my feet.
"You think we don't have a soul."
He places his hands on my shoulders, then laughs.
“It shouldn’t matter what I believe,” he says. “What matters is what you believe.”
I nod and try to laugh. Mike’s expression goes from seriousness to a smirk. He’s is being a shrink again and knows it, but I appreciate it. I really do.
"Let's hurry, the band is already playing and we have to get out of these clothes and into something more …formal."
He jumps from the bell a
nd makes his way to his bedroom’s balcony. I jump down onto mine and head back inside my room. After I get dressed, someone knocks on the door.
"Come in," I say.
It's Bianca.
"Happy Birthday, brother," she says. She hugs tight, but it doesn't hurt.
"You look great," she says.
I look down at my black dress shoes and both of the arms of my black and white tuxedo. "Look kind of like dad," she chuckles.
"Thanks," I smile. "That's what I was hoping to achieve.”
"Everyone's waiting for you downstairs."
"Yeah. I at least wanted to look at myself."
"Didn't work huh?" she laughs.
"Nope," I smile. "Guess I'm the only one left in the house who has a mirror."
"Shall we throw it away?"
"No, it's fine. I still like it," I say fixing my tie, though my reflection is absent.
"Okay, I'm ready. Walk with me?"
"Of course," she says.
As we get closer to the top of the golden railed staircase, it is quiet. I had thought I would hear people or music or Mike's voice bouncing off every corner of the mansion.
"Anyone get here yet?" I whisper.
She smiles.
"See for yourself." She motions me to keep walking. I step into the light and peer over the banister.
"Happy Birthday, Evan!" they all say as balloons rise to the ceiling and confetti bursts. Music blasts and send vibrations throughout the lobby area of the mansion. The crowd consists of my family and faces I've never seen before dressed in black dresses and tuxedos. The band plays on a stage.
"Thank you and I appreciate all of you for coming. Please enjoy the party and, um, yeah,” I say trying to find the right words, but laugh.
Red and black streamers hang from the ceiling, red and black balloons and confetti cover the floor, streamers also twist and lock around the railings and pillars throughout the lobby, and a huge banner hangs from the chandelier which read, “Happy Birthday! Welcome Home!”
"Come join the party!" Mike calls from below, waving his hand.
I walk down the golden railed staircase and join the party. People pat my back and shake my hand.
"Happy Birthday, Evan!"
"Nice to meet you, Evan!"
"I haven't seen you since you were a baby!"
I get to the fountain where Mike and Abel wait, dressed in their tuxes, black roses beneath their collarbones. They pull me into a hug.
"Looking sharp, Ev," Mike says. "This is the first time I've ever wore a bowtie."
"Fits you well," I say.
"Nephew!” Abel exclaims. “Ah, one second.”
He hands his glass of red wine to Mike. I would hope it’s wine unless vampires can get drunk off of blood. He holds up a black rose in front of me from its bright green vine. Its petals are blossomed and the thorns have yet been picked.
“The decoration,” he says. “Do you know what black roses symbolize?”
“There’s way too many,” I say shrugging with a smile. “But tell me something new.”
“Well,” he says then burps. Mike tries to hold his laugh.
“Most would consider black roses to only symbolize negative things such as death, hatred, or what have you. But, for us, it means rebirth and rejuvenation. The beginning of a drastic change. Like you, Evan.”
I smile then think to myself.
“Sounds my death,” I joke. Abel and Mike join in laughter.
“I guess you’re right,” Abel responds. He pins the rose to my tux then pats my shoulders. “There. Brings out the color in your eyes.”
“Thanks, uncle.” He takes the glass from Mike and finishes it in a couple gulps.
"The refreshments are a marvel."
"I don’t think I’ve ever wore a tux," I say.
Well," Abel says grabbing another drink from one of the servers, 'Thank you,' he tells him. "Now, you own one.”
He tosses back the glass.
"Still won't look at good as me," Mike says as he smirks.
"Think so?" I say lifting my chin and poking out my chest.
He laughs and shakes his head.
"I'll let you win today because it's your birthday."
"You two are always competing," Abel says.
"He usually starts with me," I say giving him a playful push.
Mike bounces off.
"Well, someone's feeling strong," he says rubbing his shoulder.
"I'll allow you two to rip each other to shreds," Abel says. "The brunette over there has quite an eye for me." He holds his glass up, then tosses it back.
"Good luck," I say. My uncle dances his way to the dance floor and enjoys the music with the brunette. My mother, father, and Sarah stand next to a gift table.
"I'll catch up to you in a minute, Mike," I say giving him a pat on the shoulder.
"Sure thing," he says. "I'm going to probably still be right here. Bianca," he whispers. "Is a bit of the jealous type." He nods his head to the dance floor. Bianca stares then waves. She eyes Mike with a squint.
"Whoa, um yeah, you take care of that," I laugh.
"I shall try," he says drinking some punch.
My father and mother are dressed formal as usual. Sarah is behind them. I was unsure if she had shown up or planned to. She’s dressed casually and has a large bag that slings around her shoulder.
"Happy Birthday, Evan," my father says pulling me into a hug.
"Happy Birthday, son," my mother says kissing my cheek and gives me a hug.
I look at Sarah and her scar creases with her smile. I suppose her scar was from the accident my family told me about. I had not noticed the other times she had come to visit to drop off the blood packets, but I suppose it was because I was forced to keep my distance from her.
"Happy Birthday, Evan."
"Thank you," I say.
"We'll leave you two to chat," my mother says pulling my father to the dance floor.
"I'm glad you came."
"I told you I would be back before your birthday.”
I nod my head in agreement, but fail to remember.
"So, how does it feel? Being a vampire?"
"It will take some getting used to like when I want to look in the mirror, but besides that I'm adjusting."
"That will take time,” she smiles as she switches her bag to her other shoulder.
"They told me a bit about what happened, but said they're leaving the rest with you."
"You lived with me most of your life. Three weeks ago, you were human. Then, you died. Now, you can live forever."
"So when I was human I lived with you?"
"Mhmm," she nods. "Sixteen years."
"Sixteen years," I repeat to myself.
"We knew when the time comes you would forget everything about your human life. That's just the way it is I guess, but it’s up to you to choose what you believe."
"I believe," I say. "It's a bit difficult to feel what I believe, but I believe."
She smiles weakly.
"Good."
"What's in there? Blood packets?"
However, I can usually smell them when she’s coming up the road.
"You use to be a vegetarian," she chuckles and it fades. "But no."
She walks over to the table opening the bag and I follow. She pulls out one notebook after another.
"I have much more at home, but these are your most recent notebooks I had you write in."
"Write? Like what?"
She smiles.
"Everything, and you used to hate when I was so pushy about it."
We laugh about it, but it's short-lived.
"I knew that you would forget everything, but I told myself I would try to help you remember. So every day, I had you write so when the day came and you'd change, you can read your words and hopefully they would mean something to you."
I grab one and hold it in my hands. The feel of it is familiar. The pages. The wear and tear.
"Can I have them?" I ask.
I frown at myself.
"I'm still trying to remember what I wrote, but I can't. I can't see it."
"And it’s okay that you don't. All I can hope is that you do believe. Believe that you were human before. You lived with me, and I --"
Her voice trails off.
"And I love you."
She kisses my forehead and turns back to the table. She closes the bag and runs her fingers across the notebooks.
"I'll leave these with you."
She smiles, but it's not convincing. She cares about me, and I am fighting myself to feel the same, but it's as though those feelings belong to someone else.
"Thank you," I tell her.
She smiles and wipes her cheek from a tear and I hug her.
"I must go. I'll see you soon alright?" she says fighting tears.
"But the party just --"
"Happy Birthday, Evan."
Without another word, she walks away. She opens the red doors, stops, and looks back. She smiles at me through her tears, then closes the door. I stare at the red wood then at the notebook in my hands.
"Can I have your attention please," I hear Abel say on the microphone, tapping his glass with a spoon. The music stops and the people listen.
"I want to thank you all for being here for my nephew's birthday," he holds his glass up to me, "and being great friends to our family over the years – well, centuries."
Everyone laughs.
"But it's been great. He's come home, he's grown up, and --" he shakes his head, "I've just waited what felt like forever for it to happen...Kaius. Valencia."
He calls them up with a hand and they join his side, smiling. I exhale deeply and look over at Bianca and Mike. Mike roots his fist in the air and Bianca waves. I couldn't help, but laugh. I'm happy for them both.
"Evan, son," my father says. "You have given us life over the years. Though you were not here, with us, you were in our hearts."
"Not a day had gone by that we didn't think of you," mother says. "Sixteen—now, seventeen years, it has been. Felt longer than all the decades and centuries I have lived. You reminded me of what is was like to be human. Constantly asking questions. Trying to find yourself and your purpose."
"We hope we can help you understand everything there is to know about yourself and our family," father says. "We look forward to teaching you more, and loving you forever."