I don’t leave my apartment. I don’t really eat, and I don’t really sleep, and I don’t answer the phone. By now, if I had a job, I don’t anymore. I do shower. Over and over and over. Hot water burning my skin, washing the trails of contact that man left on me down the drain. When I run out of soap, I pull on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, hide my face under a ball cap, and dart through the store, making eye contact only with my feet. Mia stopped showing up a few days ago. She’d come over, knock a few times, talk to me through the door. At first, I could hear her skin press against the red paint and her fingers land lightly near her face, tracing little patterns while she spoke. But that faded over time. I’m sure that means the vampire blood is out of my system. I should be done feeling different, but I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. I use thoughts of my vampire to chase away thoughts of the man. When I wake, trembling, covered in sweat, certain I’d felt his rancid breath on my face, hovering over me while I sleep, I calm myself by imagining my vampire snarling, baring his teeth, biting the man over and over and over until he’s ever so sorry he hurt me.
What do You think about Til Death (Immortal Memories)?
