"I sit upstairs...and wait...and wait...and wait (there should be screaming by now) he always does this, always late. Finally I hear the front door open and creak as it shuts on its dodgy hinges. His laugh echo's through the house along with a rowdy women's. Sounds like a young girl this time...shame. The footsteps continue until they're almost underneath me, they're in the living room, no, now the kitchen. More laughing, I'm getting worried by now; there should be screaming. It would come, it always came.
Sure enough, less than three minutes later it started. Screeches so loud they left my ears ringing, I could almost see the smirk on his face. his muffled laughs soon bounced off the walls. ergh, so loud.
As I lay in our bed, the cheap cream sheets comforting me, I wondered if this was all one great big dumb-ass mistake (OF COURSE IT IS, DUMB-ASS!). The shrieking died down and then stopped completely, then the back door creaked open and closed and then wet footprints trudged up our wooden stairs. Wooden stairs, never carpet (BLOOD STAINS!) Ergh. The cheap-steel hand turned, then shook, then the door slammed after he had shoulder barged it open.
"Are you OK?" I asked with a flatness to my voice, he nodded and said
" Are you? Was I to loud?" Yes.
"No" I sighed, he took two steps towards the bed and looked at me with those big, blue icy eyes. What was I supposed to say; 'Its OK your a brutal murderer'? I tried again. "Look, Charles-"
"Don't call me that, its Carl. I've told you-" I rolled my eyes ans he took another step forward and pulled off his blood soaked shirt...no, tomato juice, just tomato juice. oh, wow, his bare skin teased as he unbuckled his belt. He -never Carl, if I couldn't call him his real name then no name would do- pulled down his also blood soaked...tomato juice soaked jeans. ooh, I almost groaned as he pulled on his dark blue nightgown over his white boxers.
He walked up to the bed, leant in and kissed me, long, hot, sweet...he went up to the door but waited, hand outstretched for the handle, and I knew that he knew I had something to ask. I didn't intend to disappoint
"Why can't I go out? I've been in this house for almost six months now. You- your scaring me." he sighed and replied
"well I would wouldn't I?" Oh, just SHUT UP! "No"
Boom. Ta-dah! No. that's all I got? yeah, seems right. I soon heard the pitter-patter of the shower and only then did I venture down our wooden stairs to our crappy kitchen; there was blood everywhere. In deep puddles on the chipped floor, smeared across the table and splattered across the closed blinds. I walked over to the sink and picked up a damp sponge, I yelled at the door
"You left juice everywhere again!" no reply. He scared me so much.
water splashed across my baggy skull tank top and past the top of my grey shorts. I ignored it as I couldn't stop the thoughts overwhelming my brain.
How could you, Carl (HE-)? How can you leave me here whilst you skulk around and bring back helpless drunks to slaughter yet condemn me here? Why not just kill me? (HE LOVES YOU!) he never loved you, you'll be next, you'll be next... ergh. I fell to my knees and started to scrub, then up to the table and watched it soak into the now pink sponge.
I know that one day (NEVER!) maybe even one day soon (NEVER!) I'll get out of this-...this prison. This hell hole. Quite unexpectedly, there were three short, hard knocks on the front door. My head jolted up and upstairs I heard pitter-patter of the shower turn off abruptly. I skidded up to the sink, dumped the sponge, drained the bloody water and yanked on the tap.
The water rushed past and over my hands but the blood wouldn't come off. I tried the sponge, no luck. Panicked, i grabbed the nearest thing to me, a blue tea-towel, no, a robe...Charles...I looked up and stared into his big blue eyes, still cold as ice but warmer somehow. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I held my hands out out to him but all he did was look impatient. He wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb and picked me up. He was in a damp T-shirt now with casual jeans and his favorite belt. he shouldered the kitchen door open stepped out. an arrow came hurtling towards us from the left, then all I could see was red.
Low pitched yells and rough voices came from all directions but all I could see was red. someone dived at us with a stake...a stake? Charles wasn't a vampire (IS HE?!)just a ...killer...ergh. another arrow went shooting past my cheek; blood, which was all I could see, rolled down my face and Charles (HE) flinched, (FLINCHED?! HE'S A KILLER!) and through all the red I felt a rush, like I was moving so fast, it made me dizzy.
Several minutes passed until we finally stopped, I felt extremely dizzy and Charles (IS IT EVEN CHARLES? HOW WOULD YOU EVEN know?) let me slip out of his arms, only to grab my wait with eez and hold me steady. I composed myself and turned to face him. he said
"Sorry." what the ....?
"What happened, there was blood, so much blood and then- then...they tried to-"
He bit me. In the neck
The blood disappeared and all I could see was the actual blood, the real blood, run down my shirt. Feel the real blood on my neck, the real blood in his mouth... and the real blood that remained in my body turn cold as ice. then I couldn't breathe but- it didn't matter, i didn't need to. I looked into his red eyes-
all I could see was black . . ."
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