Blood Diaries

by Marissa Moss

  “What a beautiful day! After such a beautiful night!”

  Then he hiccuped – hic! And fainted dead away.

  He came to, but kept on hiccuping and with each hiccup, he got weaker and weaker. Until the last hiccup, when he fell down DEAD.

  I know, I know, vampires are the Undead. How could Boris die? If you’re up on your vampire lore, then you know that there are two things that can kill a vampire.

  A wooden stake, right through the heart.

  And sunlight.

  Contrary to what you may have heard, garlic doesn’t kill vampires, though it does gross us out. Can’t stand it really, so it keeps us far away. That’s why Italian food isn’t popular with my family.

  And it’s also why Mr. Duncan, the P.E. teacher, is my sworn enemy. Besides being a typical bossy, out-of-shape-himself gym teacher.

  Coffee and garlic breath combined – what could be worse?!

  Back to Boris. The Sun-B-Gone potion counteracts the deadly effects of sunlight, but with Boris, the hiccups kept him from getting the full dose. And each time he hiccuped in the bright light of day, he got weaker and weaker and weaker. Until the impossible happened.

  So believe me, I was WIDE awake and totally careful the way I always am when it was my turn to drink.

  I just wish it didn’t taste so disgusting! Kind of like vampire mouthwash, the really nasty industrial-strength kind, used to remove all blood traces.

  The only thing that gets rid of the Potion taste is a quick slug of blood, so there are always cups of it poured out for us to gulp down after the Potion.

  Now my great-grandmother is working on some kind of anti-stake vaccine. She hasn’t gotten it right yet, but I’m sure she will someday. That’s one advantage of being immortal – there’s plenty of time to learn from your mistakes and get things right.

  Then she says she’ll deal with crucifixes and garlic. I bet by the next century, we’ll be totally invincible.

  We’re already better than the other supernaturals (zombies, werewolves, witches, all those guys), but with her help we’ll be Rulers of the Living and the Undead forever!

  I tell her that while she’s at it, add some type A negative blood flavoring. Might as was well invent a delicious vaccine instead of a yucky one.

  Here’s another little known fact about vampires, at least those in my family. While we can’t die (except for the two causes you’ve already heard about), we can get older. If we want to. It’s entirely a choice thing.

  We have a potion for that, too, also developed by -- who else? -- my great-grandmother. I told you, she’s one smart cookie!

  Most vampires decide to stay in their 30s, like my parents, my great-grandparents, my great-great-grandparents, and my great-great-great-great-great grandparents (yep, they’re all still around since they’re immortal). But some choose to grow older, like Granny and Gramps. Granny says that after you’ve been 32 for three centuries, you’re ready for a change.

  The Aging Potion is the reason you rarely see baby vampires. Like Mom says, who wants an immortal, crying poop machine? Better to go right to an age you can reason with, say four or five, in one quick gulp. Plus that way you can skip diapers entirely!

  So that’s another thing that happens at the end of each Jamboree. If you want, it’s your chance to drink some Aging Potion.

  Tonight I’m actually tempted. Usually I take one teaspoon every June, so when school starts in the fall, I’m the same age as the rest of my class. But now I wonder, why not skip middle and high school altogether and go straight to being a grown-up? I could turn into that handsome, dashing vampire Mom’s always talking about. No more Ugly Duckling! No more Scapegoat!

  But I don’t. I can’t. Not yet. How can I give up on middle school when I’ve only been going for a few months? I mean, if regular human kids can survive middle school, why can’t I? I can! I will!

  Because even if some people think I’m a doofus, I know I’m not. I just have to show them the real me. Without, of course, showing them the real me.

  It’s tricky to show I’m strong, but not too strong. Fast, but not super-fast. Clever, but not brilliant. But I’m a vampire – if anyone can pull it off, I can! And if I can be popular among humans, I won’t mind so much that my vampire cousins ignore me.

  The horrible night was finally over, and we got in the car to drive home, but Dad wouldn’t let me lay down in the coffin, like he usually does. That’s always my favorite part of the whole Jamboree, and now I didn’t even get that! This was the crummiest week ever.

  And it got worse.

  “Sit up front with your mother and me,” Dad said. “We need to talk.”

  Uh oh. It’s always bad news when a parent says something like that, and vampire parents are no exception. Wanting to talk is bad. Needing to talk is terrible!

  For all the talk of talking, there was a long, awkward silence.

  Mom was the one who finally broke it.

  “Edgar, dear, your father thinks that you’ve reached the age. . .”

  “It’s time for you to know about the Bats and the Rats!” Dad blurted out.

  No, not that, the Dreaded Bat-Rat talk! No kid wants to hear this, ever!

  I kept my hands over my ears and sang “100 Bottles of Blood on the Wall” all the way home. When Dad turned off the engine in our garage, I finally dared to stop. Was it safe? Dad stared at me. His usually chalky white face was bright pink. Could he be as embarrassed as me?

  When he saw I could hear him, he looked down and mumbled an apology.

  “Don’t worry, Edgar, I won’t say another word. I’ll spare both of us.”

  Phew! That was close!

  This morning, when I went to bed, I found a book on my pillow.

  I told myself I wasn’t going to read it – NO WAY! But I couldn’t help wondering if there were some vampire secrets I really should know, like if I turn myself into a bat too many times, will I not be able to switch back someday? And how close to garlic can I get without passing out? Considering Mr. Duncan’s nasty garlic breath, that’s essential information. What about crucifixes? If they’re broken, are they still powerful, and how much damage can they do to a strong vampire anyway?

  Those were things I should know, and a book isn’t like a parental talk. You can shut it whenever you want, you can read certain parts and skip others, and, most of all, a book can’t embarrass you!

  I ended up reading most of it that morning. Here are some of the useful things I learned.

  1) Most vampires age from ten to sixteen, skipping the middle part. Only the bravest souls face those years. That way they go straight from pinatas and jump houses to driver’s licenses and the need to shave. For guys, we can skip the annoying voice cracking and go straight to deep, manly baritones in the blink of an eye.

  You would think that would make me want to drink the Aging Potion at the next Saturday Vampire Jamboree, but it did just the opposite.

  I want to be unique, a pioneer, one of the few vampires who faces the middle school and early high school years with grit and determination.

  Maybe that’s more important than being cool. Instead I can chart new territory – the Life of a Middle School Vampire.

  One small step for me, one giant leap for vampires everywhere! Maybe that will make my cousins finally appreciate me and see how cool I really am. I bet Zoe is a coward and totally skips the next decade.

  2) Another thing I learned is that there IS an antidote for garlic! This will be super-useful and make P.E. much more bearable. It’s so simple -- ordinary, every-day parsley. You know, that green stuff that decorates plates in restaurants but no one actually eats. I just have to stuff my shorts, socks, and pockets with parsley, and I’ll be fine.

  3) There’s a reason vampires despise zombies, besides the obvious fact that they’re blithering idiots.

  Zombies exude a particular smell, part dried maggots, part foot fungus, part who-knows-what. To humans, it’s disgusting, but to vampires it’s absolutely nauseating. E
vidently a vampire can’t be near a zombie without getting the heaves.

  That’s why anti-zombie kits always include these.

  Which makes me wonder why any vampire would invite a zombie to the Saturday Jamboree. Maybe the zombie crashed the party and wasn’t invited at all. Makes more sense.

  I didn’t finish the whole book, but I read a lot of it. Not that I said a word to Dad about it. He didn’t mention it, either. In fact, it was a perfectly ordinary Sunday.

  Mom and Dad worked in the garden. There’s a whole section of great herbs – henbane, hemlock, poison ivy, poison oak, and some oregano.

  Me, I played Zombie Slaughter with my human school friends online. It’s our favorite game and we’re pretty good at it. So even though I can’t have kids over to our house, I can still kind of be with them on the weekends and after school.

  My screen name is Proto Powerful Dude.

  Lucas is Blaster Beast.

  Joel is Fearsome Force.

  And Howard is Make-My-Day Harry.

  Now that I know more about real zombies, the game is even more satisfying. I wish I could tell Lucas, Howard, and Joel about their nasty stink and raging stupidity, but I can’t. They’d ask me how I know so much and that’s a question I can’t answer.

  After hours of Zombie Slaughter, I almost forgot that tomorrow is Monday, which means school, which means more of Gertie’s nasty insults. It’ll be like the Saturday Vampire Jamboree all over again, only this time it will be mortals jabbing me with their elbows and telling me how dumb I am.

  Maybe I should just stay home.

  January 10

  Lame excuses didn’t work for not going to the Jamboree and they didn’t work any better for not going to school. Mom practically pushed me out the door.

  I dragged my feet, but somehow I still got to school on time. As soon as I walked through the front gate, it started. Someone threw a ball at me. Someone yelled out, “Hey, Dweeb, stop uglifying the school!” Someone else moaned, “The stink! The stink! The horror!”

  Gertie stood right in front of me, blocking my way.

  “Go home, Edgar. You’re not welcome here until you stop your bloody meat-eating.”

  I clenched my fingers so hard, my nails gouged my palms. I wanted so much to bite her stupid neck and make her shut up! But I didn’t. Biting humans is SO not allowed! If you really have to drink living blood, then find a dog or cat, a squirrel or chipmunk. Even a hamster is okay. NEVER touch a human if you don’t want raging crowds going vampire crazy.

  Joel crossed the hall in front of me, looking scared. He didn’t say a word to help me. Howard came in behind me. He was too nervous to do anything, either. I knew Lucas would act the same way. And I couldn’t blame them. I’d probably do the same thing if the situation were reversed. I couldn’t count on anyone sticking up for me.

  Except myself.

  “You can’t tell me what to do or what to eat! I don’t make fun of your veganism, your eat-only-green-things extremism. What gives you the right to force your diet on everyone else? And is this really about food anyway?”

  I wanted to say that being nasty to someone didn’t make her more important or powerful or more popular – she was already all those things. Why did she have to be so snooty, so better-than-you-ever-could-imagine-yourself-to-be? But I knew if I mentioned popularity, I’d only enrage her more. Veganism was one thing, the P-word another.

  “Because I’m taking care of the planet and living creatures, and you’re not!” Her voice was shrill and her face was red. She looked like a firecracker about to explode.

  “You’re evil!” she shrieked. “A waste of space!”

  That did it! I snapped.

  I got mad, vampire mad, as in fangs and all. It’s the way vampires look right before they sink their teeth into their prey and, believe me, it’s terrifying. Even if the vampire is in 6th grade. Even if the vampire is me.

  The bell rang and I realized what I was doing. Holy liverwurst, I was in trouble! Did Gertie think I was a vampire or just crazy? Either way, it wasn’t good.

  “Gertie, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I said, back to my normal self. “You’re right about vegetables – they’re great for you. And I’m so glad you’re taking care of the planet. I’m thinking about becoming a vegetarian myself.” I was really babbling now, spouting all kinds of nonsense.

  “Oh, Edgar, I’ve seen the real, true you! I promise I’ll keep your supernatural secret. Only I can know that you’re a. . .”

  The late bell rang. Did Gertie really know I was a vampire? Could she really keep a secret? Was I in deep doo doo or what?

  I rushed off to class. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe Dad wouldn’t lock me in my coffin for the next ten years. Maybe I could go back to being invisible, the kid nobody notices. I was so worried that my parents, my grandparents, the whole vampire clan would be furious with me, I couldn’t pay attention to anything at school. Granny was yelling at me in my head.

  “Edgar, how could you? You’ve broken the trust of every vampire! How can we have such a traitor in our family?”

  Even worse was Grandfather’s voice.

  “I told you, the mortals must never know the truth of our existence! We must quash rumors, not start them. How could you have been so puny and weak as to lose your temper with a silly human girl? Where’s your vampire dignity?”

  I couldn’t blame them for being mad. I’d done the one thing a vampire should never do, reveal their true self to a mere mortal. And now only one thing could save me – if Gertie really could keep a secret.

  What were the odds on that?

  I studied everyone, trying to guess if they knew anything about me. It was weird. Everyone was looking at me, but no one would look me in the eye. I had a creepy feeling about this. By lunch, even the 8th graders were staring at me. That was a BIG sign that something was wrong. What 8th grader pays ANY attention to a 6th grader?

  I sat down with Joel, Howard, and Lucas, like every other day. But it wasn’t like every other day. I could practically feel the vibrations of their nervousness radiating through the lunch table.

  For once, I felt self-conscious taking out my blood juice box. My bloody rib sandwich seemed to scream “Vampire!” I wrapped my lunch back up in its plain brown paper bag.

  “I’m not hungry today.” I shrugged.

  Lucas stared at me, clutching his throat, his face paper white. “Are you thirsty?”

  “Is it true?” Joel blurted out. “You’re a vampire?”

  “Who says so?” I demanded, though I knew exactly who.

  “It’s all over the school,” Howard said.

  Gertie looked exactly the same way Zoe and Lucinda did when they were around Barnaby and Thadeus.

  Then it struck me.

  I was cool!

  Of course I was! Being a vampire is totally cool. I knew I wasn’t supposed to spill the beans, that being a vampire was Top Secret Classified Information, but was it so terrible if some kids thought I was a vampire, so long as I didn’t admit to being one?

  It turned out I didn’t have to say anything anyway. Gertie did all the talking. Thanks to her, even my teachers looked at me differently.

  In social studies, Ms. Jewel was talking about immigration, how most Americans came here from somewhere else. She called on me, something she’s never done before.

  “Ahem. . . Edgar, why don’t you tell us where your family came from?”

  She sounded really nervous. I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I smiled a big toothy grin.

  “From Transylvania. Home of Dracula!”

  I tried to imitate Grandfather’s accent as best I could. I think I did pretty good. I must have, because when I said “Dracula,” three girls in the back row screamed. The girls who didn’t shriek, gaped at me like I was a rock star or something. Was it really such a bad thing if people found out we were vampires? Nobody was grabbing torches or pitchforks. Nobody was scrambling for wooden stakes. Nobody was even brandishing garlic or crucif
ixes.

  Maybe it was time for vampires to safely be vampires.

  The rest of the day was like some kind of dream. Girls following me, teachers passing me in the hall with looks of interest, jock boys smiling at me and saying, “Hey, Dude!” As if they were curious about me. Me!!

  When I thought it couldn’t get any better, something truly amazing happened.

  No one has ever invited me to their house. Not to birthday parties, not for a little kid play date. Not ever for anything.

  I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to say.

  “No!” I yelped. “I’m not busy. I’d love to come!” I realized as soon as I said it, it wasn’t a cool thing to say. I should have seemed bored, not excited. That’s a nerd-dweeb-dork way to behave. Everyone may think I’m cool, but I still have to learn how to act cool.

  Not that it seemed to matter. Lucas grinned and said, “Great!”

  Except what would Mom say when I didn’t come home from school like usual? What would she say about me going to a mortal’s house? There are rules about these things, but to be honest, I hadn’t paid attention to them since I was sure nobody would ever invite me over.