Tears of the Broken (Dark Secrets)

by A. M. Hudson

  Stifling the urge to scowl at her and tell her to mind her own business, I looked up from my bony hips and nodded, taking the plate. “Thanks.”

  “Night, honey,” Dad muttered, way too casually. He knows there’s something up—but he isn’t going to ask. Dads are smart sometimes, but even smarter to stay out of it.

  There’s no comfort for me in the dark, tonight. I can’t dream that I’ll wake up and meet David across the road tomorrow; I can’t fantasise about the day we’d get married or how we’d sit on the porch, rocking back and forth on a swing while we watch our grandchildren play in the yard, because those dreams are the darkness, now—a haunting kind of darkness. They were what kept me going when I didn’t want to breathe, they were what made me think that perhaps I’m not cursed for killing my family, but now, it is ever clearer that I am cursed. I will be punished—haunted by those dreams forever—because David and I can’t possibly be together.

  A dancing flame flickered against the wick of the vanilla candle by my bed; I sat in its gentle glow and blew out the match, breathing the cindering smell of wood as the flame withdrew.

  It’s no use. I can’t sleep, tonight—not with the thought that at any minute a vampire might come crawling through my window—or worse, that he never will again.

  How could he do this to me? I’m so mad at him for being a vampire, and for making me fall so madly in love with him. It’s not fair. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t just fall out of love. But I can’t be with a murderer, either. I mean, how does one get past the fact that their boyfriend permanently erases people from existence. If I’d known that when I first met him, I really doubt I would’ve fallen for him—unless he smiled at me or caught me when I fell or told me he loved me after forcing me to pour my heart out to him.

  I sighed heavily as I looked at the flickering reflection of light in my dresser mirror. The gentle glow took some of the darkness from my room, but the nightmares that used to hide in the shadows when I was a little girl peeked out from the past. All the things my parents said weren’t real—all the monsters and demons and nightmares—actually are. I mean, there could be a Bogey Man under my bed, for all I know. I slid my ankle under the covers and moved my hand away from the edge of the mattress.

  David is a monster; he is the epitome of nightmares. But a small part of me wants to accept him. A small part of me—a very small, irrational and rose-coloured glasses part—doesn’t care. I just love that damn vampire so much.

  But at the same time, I can’t separate myself from the idea of a life lost, from the fact that when David meets a man in a dark alley, it doesn’t matter if that man has children who call him Daddy, a wife who has cancer or a mother who’ll be waiting for him to return with her milk—David will erase him—and never think twice about it.

  But I will.

  I couldn’t live with myself if I had to kiss the lips of the very thing that draws life from this Earth, every day, for the rest of my life.

  Then again, I don’t think I can live with myself if I don’t.

  For such a short time, I thought I was going to be okay. David rescued me from a dark future—showed me what real love felt like, gave me my first kiss. No one has ever kissed me like that before, and no one has ever told me they love me—and meant it like that.

  There’s still so much I want to ask him, but until I get my own thoughts straight, it’s probably better if I don’t see him. All I’ll do is hurt him further with repulsion.

  Disregarding my resurfaced fear of the Bogey Man, I flipped my legs over the side of the bed and padded to my desk to write all my mind-boggling deliberations down.

  Dear Diary,

  It’s funny how love goes; you think you have morals and strong beliefs, but when you strip it all down, the truth is that I want to love him. I want to forget about what he is and just love him. But, by accepting him, I’d be condoning murder.

  On the other hand, I can go on forever not loving him, when there’s nothing I can do to save those people, anyway. Will I punish myself for what David is?

  I looked up from the pages of my diary to the phone by my elbow. I wish it would ring, and in my moment of weakness I could tell my best friend everything. He’d know what to do.

  What would he say?

  I already know the answer to that. He’d tell me to run. In fact, he’d be on the first plane over here, stick me in a duffel bag and carry me off to a faraway land, where he’d pack me into a crate and stand guard for the rest of my life.

  Okay, perhaps the phone ringing is a bad idea.

  Argh, what am I going to do? I dropped my head into my hands. This isn’t hard—or at least, it shouldn’t be. I know what I should do; I know what I want to do. But they conflict.

  I sighed and looked out at the dotted glimmers of silver, sparkling in the night sky. The stars, which once were twinkles of hope for me, stared back down into my insignificant little life, offering no solace or resolution at all.

  Of course this hard. Matters of the heart; they’re never solved sensibly.

  Love is irrational. Love is unfair.

  There will be no going back. No lazy afternoons by the lake, warm and safe in David’s arms. We’ll never get married or have babies, never grow old together and get arthritis, and if I become a vampire—never die.

  Before I lost my family, death was not something I wanted. It was always something that, for me, would be years away—hundreds of years. But in the face of immortality, all I can think of is how restless it must be to know you’ll never find peace, never reunite with those who’ve passed, never find out what’s on the other side. And sure, you get to live forever, but I bet the novelty would wear off pretty soon—and then what? Then it’s too late.

  Eternity is a very long time, I mean, what if I did become like him, and after a few thousand years he got bored with me?

  “That,” a voice broke through the silence, “could never happen.”

  “David?” I shot up out of my seat and pinned my back to the wall beside my dresser. “How long have you been there?”

  Sitting with his legs tucked up, leaning comfortably against my window frame, he watched me move. “Long enough.”

  “Long enough for what?”

  He jumped off the ledge, landing silently in my room. How could I not have noticed that before? “You’re not afraid of me, are you, Ara?”

  My head moved from side to side—my eyes wide, and my hands flat to the wall behind my hips.

  He stopped approaching. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know.” I tried to take a breath, but couldn’t.

  He looked up from his feet, smiling, with a hint of mischief behind his eyes. “Do you?”

  Deep down—I think I do. I took a very deep breath, and exhaled.

  “Mmm.” David closed his eyes, breathing deep through his nose. “You smell so sweet.” The beat of my heart hid under a gasp as David appeared in front of me. His hips pinned mine to the wall while his cold fingertips brushed my hair away from my neck, and he ran his nose along the curve of my shoulder.

  “David?” I whispered. If I can hear my heart trying to break out of its cage, then surely this vampire can, too.

  “Yes, my love,” he said, breathing soft, cool kisses along my jawline.

  “You’re scaring me.” I stayed still.

  He looked up then, and shook his head. “If I had done this to you yesterday?”

  “I would’ve thrown you on the bed and—” I cleared my throat.

  “Then, what is so very different, today?”

  “Because, today—you’re a killer.”

  “I was a killer yesterday.” He laughed incredulously.

  I looked down; he’s right. But the difference is that I know about it, now. I’m essentially an accessory to murder.

  David took a half a step back. “If I could perform a memory charm on you, would you want me to?”

  “You could do that?”

  “Just answer the question, please.”
>
  “I—” I don’t know; happiness was a part of my life when I was in love with David, the boy. All of this reality is just too unusual. I feel insecure, like I’m walking on a glass cliff top—sure I might fall through at any minute. But, would I want to love him if I didn’t know he was a killer? “Yes,” I said very quietly, looking down.

  “Then why can’t you accept me, now?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Ara, look at me,” he said. “Love is complicated, but you can’t deny that you’re in love with me?” His eyes, green and intense, searched mine. “You refuse my affections, you will watch me walk away—give up our love, for what? To make a stand against a natural predator? That’s all I am, sweetheart—” he leaned closer, laughing softly as his eyes flicked over my face, “would you give up your first born to protest against lions killing a zebra?”

  I pushed away from him and darted across to my desk. “That’s the problem, David. I will be giving up my first-born. I’ll be giving up everything.” God, he doesn’t get it! “I can never have a family, a life, not even a death if I choose you. I’ve been over it—there’s no right way to do this.”

  “That may be so, but you still have a choice to make.” His voice shook on the word choice.

  “Why do you have to a vampire?” My lip quivered and fresh tears stung the edges of my dry eyes. “Why did you have to make me fall in love with you?”

  David stood stiff. “I didn’t make you.”

  “I know.” I folded my arms and rolled my chin to my chest. “But I do love you, and now I have to choose between love or life, and I want that life, David. I want a family—like Mum had; I want a little Harry. I want to be a soccer mum and do car-pooling and argue with my daughter about the boys I think aren’t good enough for her—and then, one day, when I’ve had a good life, with the man I love, I want to know what it’s like to be old—and die.” I looked up, and my eyes narrowed. “Can you understand any of this?”

  “More than you could know.” Misery swallowed his voice, and then—he evaporated. A breathless second passed before he appeared on the edge of my bed, with his face in his hands.

  What is wrong with me? My mouth should be sewn shut; I always manage to say something to destroy him.

  Look at him—he’s no monster—he’s just a boy, he’s just David. “Damn you for being so cute.” As I slumped beside him on the bed, I let out a loud sigh. “What’s it like? Eternity? Is it very painful?”

  David looked at me with round, tear-filled eyes. “It’s very, very long,” his voice broke. “We have souls, you know? Vampires? We have souls, like you,” he swallowed, “and soul mates. I’ve searched for nearly a hundred years, Ara, and I have finally found you.” He took my hands; I let him. “You don’t understand what that means.”

  “Explain it to me.”

  “It is an unyielding bind—unending. Wherever I go in this eternity, there will never be another girl for me. I will never be as happy and complete as when I’m with you.” He sniffed once and reached up to my face, stroking his thumb over my cheekbone. “Please don’t make me live without you? Not now that you know; not now that I know what you are to me.” He paused and his sparkling emerald eyes drew my soul to the surface.

  “What exactly am I to you, David? You say soul-mate, but you were just going to leave me behind.”

  “I never wanted to do that. I never wanted any of this, I—” He turned to face me completely and shook his head. “Please understand—you’re not just my soul mate, Ara. You’re my one true love. I need you to come with me. Please say you will.”

  The anguish in his eyes forced me to close mine. I can’t answer him, because I can’t give him the answer he wants.

  “Ara, please. For the sake of a few drops of blood?” His voice became desperate. “You would throw away everything? You would turn your back on love?”

  “No, David,” my voice edged beyond discreet. “I won’t turn my back on love. But I won’t be a part of murder, of death, of fear. It’s more than a few drops of blood. They’re people. Does that mean nothing to you?”

  “It does have meaning to me—but not in the way it does to you.” He lowered his head, maybe ashamed of himself—he should be.

  “David, I will always love you—to the very depths of my soul, but I won’t live out eternity as an immoral killer,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Immoral?” With a slow breath, he floated up to stand and towered over me—casting a dark shadow across my face. “You think me to be—immoral?”

  “I’m sorry, David, but…I do.” I kept my head down, my eyes on David’s clenched fist, and his energy—the kind of force surrounding him that’s normally warm and soft—turned cold, and a strange tearing sensation filled the air with a chilling rush over my chest.

  “If you could only see what you are doing—what it will do to me to be without you.” The smooth, weightless tone of his voice became thick and coarse. “I am not immoral, and I do have a heart—feelings to be exact.”

  When our eyes met, my stomach tightened into my throat at the sight of the liquid agony in his very human eyes. “David—”

  “No. Can’t you see? Ara—you have no idea what you’re giving up.”

  “If you knew my heart, you’d know those words are untrue,” I whispered, looking away from the broken pieces of the boy I love.

  “If I knew your heart, Ara, I would’ve known I should never have shared myself with you.” He cut the air with his hand.

  “You’re right,” I said irresolutely. “You should never’ve told me.” It hurts me to think like this, but I’d still be in the blind, rose-coloured bliss that first love brings if he had just left without telling me why. Well, either that or sad and alone. But at least it would all be normal.

  “So that’s it, then—you want nothing to do with me, now?” David asked.

  “You should’ve given me more time. I wasn’t ready for you to come back yet, David.”

  He took two slow steps away from me, and his head tilted to one side as the distance became greater. “Well, have no fear, my love. I shall not make that mistake again.” He sounded a hundred years old to me, then. The weight of his existence tore down my walls as I watched him walk away, and somewhere inside me, a little voice screamed out, echoing from the depths of my soul—warning me that if he leaves now, I will never see him again.

  “Wait!” I called in a breath of desperation—reaching for him as I jumped to my feet. “David, wait.”

  He stopped, crouched on the ledge of my window, keeping his eyes on the night below.

  “Please.” I clutched at my heart as it burned in my chest. “Please, give me more time. I’m not ready to let go, yet, I just—maybe we could have until the end of the summer, at least. But, I just need time to think about it.”

  David turned his head and looked into my eyes. Tears flowed down over my cheeks, and when the vampire jumped back into my room and stood right before me, I didn’t even flinch. Not one uneven breath escaped me.

  He leaned down and pressed his cold fingertips to my face, rolling it firmly upward to meet his. A short gasp stopped in my throat as David’s smooth, gentle kiss parted my lips, and his unnaturally icy touch only made my heart soar.

  He inhaled deeply through his nose, then pulled away with a sharp breath and looked deep into my eyes. “Follow your heart, mon amour,” he said, keeping hold of my face. “When nothing in this world makes sense anymore, just follow your heart.”

  I drew a shaky breath and closed my eyes as an intense exchange of hope and fear consumed our souls, and in a flash, as I opened them again—he was gone.

  Gravity made me stumble forward a step in his wake, and my heart burned with the absence of his kiss.

  The night below my window, cool and quiet, regarded none of the tension in my soul. A lonely cricket hummed his perfect song, and I closed my eyes as the last day that life was everything I expected came to an end.

  Squinting in the bright morning sun a
s my joggers clapped over the pavement below me, I started down the street—away from the school. I want to run as far away from that building as I can get.

  I drew deep, throat-grazing breath of the near-autumn chill, and tried to ignore the thin layer of frost over my cheeks, also stinging my ears. Running used to be a free-flying, bouncing kind of feeling for me, but now, it’s more like trying to jump under water. I’m so unfit. I think I’ve had too much chocolate and not enough real food. But it’s good to feel real. The tight stitch, the inability to breathe, the sweat beading on my brow—it’s all normal. And none of it’s fair. I should be ignorant to all of it—sunshine, birds singing, hearing my dad talking in the kitchen or a car taking off down the street—no one my age should appreciate the little things.

  When I wake up, my only dilemma should be which dress I want to wear. It sucks that I have to either lose the boy I love, or become immortal—and the fact that David kills people really sucks. No pun intended. The only trouble is, when I conclude not to love him, it hurts inside—a physical ache in my gut, like the one that nearly made me throw up on the first day of school.

  If he wasn’t an evil vampire, I’d have no problems loving him until the end of summer—well, until the end of time, really—but I can’t change what he is, and I can’t accept it, either. I just can’t.

  I stopped running and folded over for a second, pressing my fingers to the mind-consuming stitch in my gut. I must’ve been running for longer than I thought.

  People started to fill the day around me, and cars stole the quiet from the

  T-junction at the end of the footpath. I looked at my watch. Wow, it got late—I’ve been running for twenty minutes.

  “Hello stranger,” a soft, soprano voice said.

  I turned around, surprised. “Hey, Emily. Do you live around here?”

  She shook her head and motioned behind her. “Spencer lives here. I stayed over last night.”

  “What?” My eyes bulged. “Stayed over?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled and nodded. “Oh, I mean, not like that—I was just babysitting his little sister.”