by Tim Collins
5PM
I sat with Craig and Wayne in Maths but it was really boring as they kept going on about how low cut Mrs Thomson’s top was. They were talking like they were experienced international playboys rather than spotty adolescents from a small town. I found it difficult to care about the subject, as all tops seem low cut to me if you can see a girl’s neck. Unless a girl is wearing a polo neck, I regard her as provocatively dressed.
It’s PE again tomorrow. I can’t face another lesson with that idiot Mr Jenkins so I’m going to ask Dad for a note to get me out of it. I’ll get him to write that I’ve got a bad back, and that I can’t do it for three months.
WEDNESDAY 2ND FEBRUARY
At first Dad refused to give me a note to get out of PE. He said it was the best lesson in school, and I should be looking forward to it. That’s easy for him to say, with his vampire strength and speed. PE might well be fun if you can run a marathon in five minutes and leap over hurdles as if they were paperclips. I can’t even do a forward roll!
In the end he agreed to write the note, but still managed to make it embarrassing. He went off into his study and wrote on ancient parchment with a quill. That might have been acceptable in the seventeenth century, but it isn’t now. I wish he would make at least some effort to get with the times.
Mr Jenkins almost had a heart attack when I gave him the note, but he accepted it nonetheless, and I enjoyed a blissful PE-free afternoon in the library.
THURSDAY 3RD FEBRUARY
We had a Science test this morning that I’d completely forgotten about. I hadn’t done any revision and I got it all wrong. It’s so horrible when you scan through the questions on a test and realize you can’t do any of them. I don’t know why humans think vampires are scary. Tests are much worse.
This afternoon I found out that the girls from the popular gang have given every boy in the class a mark out of ten for looks. I don’t care what the popular gang think about me, but I hope I didn’t get less than seven. I’m supposed to be a beautiful, aristocratic immortal. I’d be the first to admit that I’m not the best-looking vampire of all time, but I’d still like to think that I’m better than average-looking.
Jay from the tough gang waited outside the school gates tonight and gave everyone a dead arm on the way home (this is when he hits you so hard at the top of your arm that it goes numb). I didn’t mind because I can’t feel pain. Technically, the whole of me is dead, so a dead arm isn’t a big deal.
FRIDAY 4TH FEBRUARY
Craig has seen the list of marks out of ten and apparently I got a four! According to him, only three people in the class got a worse score than me! And they include Darren, who has fleas.
Why do none of the girls fancy me? I’m a vampire, I should be the class heart-throb. Judging from my score, I’m more Quasimodo than Count Dracula.
I have thick black hair and deep-set eyes, although I’m not good at eye contact. My skin is pure white when it’s not plagued with rashes or acne. I’m also quite tall for my age, and I would surely have grown to over six feet if I’d stayed human longer.
Why don’t these elements combine to produce the deadly, hypnotic beauty that’s rightfully mine?
Perhaps one day they will, and all the girls in the popular gang will be begging to go out with me. And I will laugh in their silly little faces.
SATURDAY 5TH FEBRUARY
I asked Dad today about why I don’t have the same attractiveness as other vampires and he suggested it was to do with the age I transformed. He said that supernatural beauty is something grown-up vampires need to attract prey, but vampire children don’t need it because they have their parents to get food for them.
Could he be any more patronizing? For a start, I wasn’t a child when I transformed, I was fifteen, and mature for my age, so you’d think that the laws of vampire biology would have made an exception.
He also said that you don’t hear my sister complaining about it. Of course she doesn’t. She hates boys and would be happy enough to spend the rest of eternity getting pampered by my indulgent parents. All I can say is that she’d better hope they don’t bump into any vampire slayers, as I have no intention of looking after her if they aren’t around.
He did make one useful suggestion, though. He said that to humans, vampires smell of the thing they most desire. He suggested that I might be stifling my natural vampire aroma with deodorant. I know he dislikes the smell of the Lynx I spray on every morning, so he might just be saying this to make me stop using it, but I’ll try cutting it out next week and see if it makes me more alluring.
SUNDAY 6TH FEBRUARY
Today we had a family outing to the seaside. My sister insisted that we all go on the ghost train even though it always makes her frightened. She had to bury her head in Mum’s gown when the carriage went past a luminous skeleton (or ‘skellington’ as she pronounces it). It was so pathetic.
The man in the ticket booth was dressed as a vampire, though he wasn’t putting much effort in. In fact, he was the first vampire I’ve ever seen who looked even more bored than me! He was also seriously overweight, which wouldn’t be possible for a real vampire. We live off human blood, not deep-crust pizzas.
MONDAY 7TH FEBRUARY
As suspected, Dad was talking nonsense about the whole vampire smell thing. I’ve been off the deodorant since Saturday, but far from attracting anyone, I ended up sitting on my own in every lesson today.
In Maths, I even stretched out my arms to see if the smell of my untreated pits would get the humans flocking round. Instead, everyone in the row behind me pulled their jumpers up over their noses to protect themselves from the pong like they do when Darren sits next to them.
I concluded that my natural smell is probably not attractive to humans, so I avoided Chloe for the rest of the day. I clearly don’t smell of the thing humans most desire. Unless the thing humans most desire is a cheese sandwich that’s been accidentally left in a locker over the summer holidays.
TUESDAY 8TH FEBRUARY
Today I heard a piece of news that pierced by heart like a stake dipped in garlic and holy water. Wayne fancies Chloe!
I must act soon! I’ll never forgive myself if she starts going out with that fool. I’m sure she won’t be interested in him, though. He hangs around with the popular gang, and he’s quite good at football, I’ll admit. But he’s got bad teeth and a downy moustache and he’s in the bottom set for English where they let you watch DVDs instead of reading books. My wonderful Chloe couldn’t possibly fall for anyone that stupid.
If only I could tell you the truth, Chloe! When he’s middle-aged and bald, I’ll be here for you just as young and attractive as ever. Or at least, just as young as ever.
Tomorrow, my beautiful prey, I shall reveal all.
WEDNESDAY 9TH FEBRUARY
10PM
I went to the library to reveal the truth about my nature to Chloe, but I was too nervous to say anything, so I went to the steps at the back of the library to hang around with my annoying friends the school goths instead.
They were talking about a new vampire show that started on TV last night, and weren’t they just the world’s leading authorities on the subject? Si got the ball of ignorance rolling by trotting out the myth that vampires can transform themselves into bats. Oh, can they now? And what happens to our bones when we do this? Do they magically shrink and then expand again? And what about our clothes? Do they somehow appear again when we transform back to human form, or are we naked? It would hardly be worth using your bat power if it meant having to spend the rest of the day with your privates on display.
Next, Brian said that he wished he was a vampire. I was so incensed by this that I was tempted to sink my fangs into his ample neck right then and show him the dull reality behind his childish fantasy. He’d be bored out of his mind in minutes, with no extra large pizza or afternoon nap to look forward to.
Then, worst of all, John said that he preferred zombies anyway. Zombies? What have those stinking corps
es got to do with vampires? How is this a legitimate comparison? And if even zombies did exist, what kind of cretin would prefer them to pale, beautiful immortals?
I utterly despair of these idiots I am forced to call my friends.
3AM
I’ve been having a think about what it would be like if I really could transform into a bat and fly into Chloe’s bedroom. Sometimes I wish the myths about vampires were true!
THURSDAY 10TH FEBRUARY
10AM
The girls from my class all fancy the actor from the vampire TV show, and they’ve covered their exercise books with pictures of him in serious and moody poses. How blind of them to obsess over this manufactured image of vampirism when they have the real thing right under their noses.
Sometimes I think these shallow humans don’t deserve my company.
6PM
In Art today I drew a charcoal picture of a girl fleeing in terror from a vampire in a graveyard. The girl was wearing a thin white dress and looked like Chloe, while the vampire was wearing a cape and looked like me. It was a very corny and inaccurate depiction, but I must admit I found it rather thrilling.
I got worried that Chloe would notice the drawing so I went over it until it turned into abstract shapes. My artistic talent, like my musical talent and my literary talent, must remain cloaked for now.
The art teacher asked me what the abstract shapes represented and I said ‘Desire’. I think she was quite impressed.
FRIDAY 11TH FEBRUARY
2PM
We did cooking in Home Economics today, which is always boring for me because I don’t eat. I only took the subject in my options because the alternative was Design and Technology and I’ve heard that includes smoothing down wooden poles on the lathe. Imagine if I tripped over and pierced my heart on one of those things! I’m surprised they even allow it.
We were supposed to be making spaghetti bolognese, and Mrs Molloy told me off for not draining the water before I added the tinned tomatoes. Why would I care? It’s going straight in the bin anyway.
Later I told Chloe about how much I hate cooking, and she said she hates it too! We have so much in common we must be soulmates.
Chloe said that she doesn’t care about cooking because she doesn’t want to end up as a housewife. She wouldn’t have to do any cooking if she was my wife. Or any housework at all if she didn’t want to. All she would have to do is stand on a moonlit balcony wearing a flimsy white dress and offer her perfect white neck to me.
4PM
The headmaster has announced that there will be a special Valentine’s postal service on Monday. I have just seventytwo hours to compose a message to write in my card to Chloe. Let’s just say that my Maths textbook will go ignored this weekend!
SATURDAY 12TH FEBRUARY
This morning I went to the newsagents near the station and bought the biggest card they had. It’s over fifty centimetres high, and features a love heart and a border of red roses. I’m not sure why humans think that particular shape resembles the heart, as it doesn’t look like one to me. Personally, I’d prefer the image of an actual pumping heart, like you’d see in Biology textbooks.
Anyway, I’m guessing that the card is the kind of thing that female humans find appealing. Now to compose an appropriate message...
Have a nice Valentine’s Day. (Too weak.)
Sending you sincere wishes on this Valentine’s Day. (Too formal.)
I’ve been watching you but you don’t know. (Too creepy.)
Roses are red, violets are blue, I’ve waited a century for a girl like you. (Too corny.)
I’ve searched through the frozen mists of eternity for you. (Too vampirey.)
Yield to the forbidden music of my soul. (Way too vampirey.)
Dear Chloe, please can I sink my teeth into your neck and drink your blood? (One step at a time, Nigel.)
SUNDAY 13TH FEBRUARY
I have chosen the message for my card...
In eternal admiration, love from ?
As you can see, it has a clever double meaning, because my admiration really is eternal, as I’m immortal.* I have practised writing the message ten times in fancy handwriting and now I shall put it in the card.
Soon you shall join me in my world of darkness, frightened mortal lamb.
* Some pedants complain when this word is used to describe vampires, as we can be killed if you ram a stake through our hearts or lop our heads off. But I’m happy to use it because it sounds cool. Anyway, I’d like to see those pedants heal broken bones in a matter of minutes.
MONDAY 14TH FEBRUARY
A worrying development today.
Although my card was the biggest, Chloe got a total of three Valentine’s cards! Three! I know she’s beautiful, but I presumed nobody else would fancy her because she’s a prefect.
How am I going to fend off two love rivals?
I was so worried I hardly noticed that I didn’t get a single card myself. But just imagine the scene if I possessed the vampiric good looks that should be mine. A desk piled high with cards, every pair of female eyes in the room fixed on me, my dark hunter’s eyes meeting Chloe’s expectant gaze, and my voice burning with ancient desire as I proclaim my love for her.
Instead, I get one less card than flea-ridden Darren. I am truly a creature of the damned.
TUESDAY 15TH FEBRUARY
Though it annoyed me to do so, I sat on a table with the girls from the popular gang in Maths to catch up on the Valentine’s gossip. Based on their information, I’ve compiled a table of suspected love rivals:
Name Wayne Cross
Likelihood Very high - told Peter Ellen he fancied her, and Peter told Samantha Jackson.
Threat level Low - he has bad teeth and even more spots than me, and is from a rougher area of town than Chloe, so there would be a class barrier like in Wuthering Heights (which we’re doing in English).
Name Gary Martin
Likelihood High - Walked her home once.
Threat level Low - he has rich parents but attends lunchtime chess club and smells of disinfectant.
Name Craig Hopper
Likelihood High - posted eight cards in total.
Threat level Medium - he is the bestlooking boy in our year, but he says he’s a ladies’ man and doesn’t want to commit himself to one woman.
Name Sanjay Bhatti
Likelihood Unknown.
Threat level High - his parents live on the same street as hers, so he would have ample opportunity to make a move.
Name Darren Riley
Likelihood Unlikely - cannot afford card.
Threat level Moderate - although girls don’t usually fancy him because he has fleas, Chloe is very caring and feels pity for social outcasts.
Name John the Goth
Likelihood Unknown - too quiet.
Threat level Low - too quiet.
I feel slightly better about the situation now I’ve completed my table. Although there are some potential threats out there, I am convinced Chloe will be mine if I act fast.
WEDNESDAY 16TH FEBRUARY
Jay from the tough gang charged me 50p just to walk past him in the corridor this afternoon. It was so humiliating. I should be striking fear into the hearts of mortals, not unwillingly contributing to their next pair of trainers.
I attempted to talk to Chloe about Valentine’s cards in the library at lunchtime to see if she’d worked out that I sent the best one. I tried to steer the conversation round to the topic by asking her if she’d had a good week and if anything unusual had happened. She wasn’t taking the bait, so in the end I had to come right out and ask her if she got any cards. She said no, and then looked down at her book, blushing a deep red. Her delectable blood filled her cheeks and in my head it sounded like stormy waves crashing on a beach. Needless to say, my fangs extended and I had to clamp my mouth shut. We stayed in this awkward stalemate for the rest of lunch, with her staring down at her textbook and me drawing on every ounce of self-restraint to prevent myself fro
m tucking into her neck in front of everyone.
It was actually quite a relief when she had to go to Business Studies.
THURSDAY 17TH FEBRUARY
There’s been a vampire attack right here in town! I’m so angry with Mum and Dad, the greedy pigs! Why can’t they hold back from their blood-drinking urges?
The worst thing is, they wouldn’t even own up to it. I only found out because Mr Talbot the school caretaker was looking a bit pale and I asked him about his health. He said he’d collapsed on the way back from the pub at the weekend and blacked out for a couple of hours. Although his wife didn’t believe him, he said that he’d only drank two lagers. He had to stay in bed for a couple of days, but just as he was about to see a doctor, he started to feel better again. He kept scratching his neck, and when I looked closely, I saw a couple of telltale fang marks on it.
I confronted Mum and Dad about their behaviour as soon as I got home, but they insisted that they’d only been feeding in towns over twenty miles away, which was our agreement. I don’t know why they insist on lying to me. It’s obvious that they were too thirsty to wait until they were further away, and fed off poor old Mr Talbot instead. So just because they couldn’t contain their urges, they risked exposing our identity and forcing us to flee this town, meaning that I would never see my dear Chloe again. In other words, they put their own stupid thirst above my first ever chance of happiness! How can I trust them again?