Rules Are Meant to Be Broken

by N. J. Nielsen

come back inside. “No, Christian’s not my creator, but he

  watched me for a very long time. He used to come and

  watch me through the windows. He was always so pretty,

  so transparent, he was as an angel should be. I never

  actual y thought he was real. I had a bad addiction to

  alcohol and drugs back then. Every day my angel would

  come back and watch over me. I thought maybe I was dying

  and he was coming to lead me into the afterlife. He was

  there to take me away from that place.

  “Then one day he wasn’t there anymore and she came to

  take me. She said she had to change me. She told me it

  would make me better, but it did not work. So she left me

  alone to die. I lay forgotten in the room and then I was free.”

  Charm patted Christian on the arm. “For a while I was lost

  and then I went to the park to wait for my angel to come find

  me again. I had heaps of time to reflect on it al since the

  drugs and alcohol no longer worked on me.”

  “Where were you?” Doyle asked.

  It was Christian who answered. His face at first held

  confusion but it slowly morphed into something Michael

  couldn’t quite read. “She was in an abandoned factory on

  Whitcomb Avenue,” he said quietly. “It burnt to the ground a

  couple of years ago.”

  “If it had been abandoned how did it burn to the ground?”

  Kerr asked.

  To Michael it seemed as though Christian was about to

  run so Michael grabbed hold of his hand to make him stay.

  “Because I set it on fire.”

  It nearly kil ed Michael to see the pain in Christian’s

  eyes. He pul ed Christian to his chest. This time, he would

  not let anyone make Christian leave.

  “I don’t understand,” Doyle said as he pushed his hand

  through his hair. “Why?”

  “I thought if I destroyed the place she got tortured in, it

  would cure her. Every day I saw those people doing things

  which caused her harm. They used her in every way

  possible. I couldn’t let them continue to do it. I had to stop

  them.”

  Michael thought al the memories seemed to be fal ing

  into place in Christian’s mind, things he had long forgotten,

  but even now it seemed as if they weren’t whole.

  “What happened to the one who created her?” This time

  it was Kerr who spoke.

  “I think I kil ed her.” Christian shook his head, “I think the

  factory is where I did it. I burnt it down around her to make

  sure she was real y dead. I think I was meant to be watching

  her, but the first time I saw her she was in Charm’s room,

  helping her stick the damn needle in her arm.”

  “It’s the first time Charm acknowledged me and I knew

  she real y saw me. After that day I became obsessed with

  her. I came to watch Charm and I forgot about watching the

  other. I was punished for my watching. It hurt so much and I

  could not move for a long time.”

  Pain washed through Michael as Christian shuddered

  against him. “When I was able to be myself again, I took

  care of the thing which had caused me so much pain. She

  would never cause me so much pain again. Not ever!”

  “Why were you meant to be watching her? How did you

  kil her?” Michael’s hand gently stroked Christian’s back in

  comfort as the others threw question after question at

  Christian.

  “I don’t remember. I just remember getting punished and

  I think it broke something in me. When I could walk again,

  when I found my sense of who I was, Kerr came for me and

  I left. I never went back to my place of punishment until…

  until Michael.” He pressed his face into Michael’s chest,

  Michael wrapped his arms further around him.

  Christian turned in Michael’s arms. “I am so sorry I did

  that to you.”

  Kissing him tenderly Michael said, “Don’t… I am here,

  and we are together, and it’s is al that matters.” Michael

  thought how even though his heart stil reeled at his

  mother’s rejection, Christian needed to hear the little white

  lie.

  “Any clues which your old place may have contained

  would have disappeared with Michael’s impromptu fire.”

  Kerr seemed frustrated. And Michael could relate; they

  final y seemed to be getting somewhere only to be knocked

  back down. If what he had found hadn’t been such a total

  shock he would have thought to look for clues, but at the

  time his brain was tel ing him to destroy al the evidence

  before someone else stumbled upon the horrific scene.

  Another memory assaulted Christian and he pul ed away

  from Michael to race to the attic. He might not be able to

  remember what they wanted him to, but he did have

  something they would want to see. Prying the boards from

  the wal he extracted the file he had placed there years ago.

  Running back downstairs Michael met up with him just as

  he had reached the first landing. Christian threw him a

  reassuring smile as they went back to the others, he

  handed the file to Kerr.

  “What’s this?”

  “I made this way back when I was watching them. I

  wanted to know who Charm was and I wanted to know how

  she could see me. It contains details of everything I

  observed about her.” Pointing to a name at the bottom of

  the first sheet, he said, “It has the name of the one I kil ed.”

  Ilana Yannis.

  Flipping to the back of the folder there was another file,

  this one was not about Charm. On the first page was a

  photo of a very beautiful woman, and yet her face was hard.

  “This is the one I kil ed. She was the vampire who

  changed Charm.”

  § § § §

  Locked in his room, Sebastian sat and tried to drown his

  sorrows as he saw in Christian and Michael’s minds the

  picture of his beautiful Ilana. In a blur of tears his anger

  returned to him tenfold, showing him just why Christian

  needed to pay, and if it meant going through the family he

  now surrounded himself with, then so be it.

  Sebastian threw his ful glass of whiskey against the wal .

  Why did alcohol stop working after they had been

  changed? Right now he needed to get rol ing around the

  floor drunk.

  § § § §

  “What are you going to do about your mother?” Charm

  asked, changing the subject.

  With her question a harsh pain exploded through

  Michael’s chest. Honestly, he didn’t real y have a clue what

  he was going to do.

  “I guess I’l go and see her,” Michael sighed. It hurt to

  think he would lose his family for the third time in as many

  months.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Christian asked

  him. Shaking his head, Michael kissed him on the

  forehead.

  “No, I think this is something I have to do on my own.”

  Michael accepted the comfort Christian offered him and

  he listened to the words of advice everyone gave, yet deep

  down he knew that in the end, it would be
up to him to

  convince his mother he was not the monster she thought he

  was. So many thoughts ran through his head as he walked

  toward his parents’ house. So many things he wanted to

  say to her. So many things which he needed to say, to

  explain everything, but when their house came into view

  they al slipped away. Even though his mother’s car was

  parked in the drive, she refused to answer the door when

  he knocked. He knew his mother had a right to her fear, but

  he also knew if she would take the time to listen to him and

  real y hear what he was saying then maybe they could work

  everything out, so he didn’t have to lose them again. At

  least he hoped they could work it al out.

  “Mum!” Michael cal ed through the wooden barrier.

  “Mum, please let me in,” he rested his forehead against the

  door wil ing her to respond. “Mum, this is stupid; just open

  the damn door.”

  “Go away, you are not welcome here.” Her words were

  harsh and they cut deeply. “You can’t come in unless you

  are invited and I don’t invite you in.”

  “Mum! I’l break down the bloody door if I have to. I don’t

  want to, but I wil . For crying out loud, Mum. I just want to talk

  to you. Besides, I don’t need an invitation. This is my home

  too, remember?” Michael took a step back as he heard her

  release the deadbolt.

  When she came into view Michael couldn’t stop himself

  from bursting out laughing as she stood there with a

  wooden chop stick pointed directly at his chest, her eyes

  wild and frantic. The sad part was, he didn’t even know why

  he was laughing. It just seemed ridiculous that his mother

  was trying to kil him.

  “I’m sorry, Mum. I real y didn’t mean to laugh, but it’s so

  freaking funny.” Michael was about to take a step into the

  house when she brought the tip of the chop stick against his

  chest and applied the smal est amount of pressure.

  Not giving her anytime to react, Michael’s hands were a

  blur as he pul ed it out of her hand. “Do you real y want to kil

  me, Mum?” He grinned at her look of surprise at losing her

  weapon. “Just let me talk to you and if you stil want to stake

  me,” he chuckled, “then I’l help you push the bloody thing

  through my chest. I promise.”

  Michael winced as she pressed her back against the

  wal as he passed her going into the house. He stopped

  momentarily to make sure she fol owed him to the lounge

  room. “Where’s Gypsy?” He asked, suddenly realising the

  house was way too quiet.

  “Somewhere safe.”

  Sighing in frustration, Michael watched as his mother sat

  as far from him as she could.

  “Do you real y think I could hurt Gypsy, Mum? How could

  I, when she’s half of me? Do you think I’m capable of hurting

  you or Dad?” He shook his head sadly. “Mum, I—”

  “Why are you even here?” His mother seemed confused

  by the way he was stil being so familiar with her. Maybe if

  he had been honest with his family then she would have

  reacted differently. Did she think he was only pretending to

  be the son she had once loved beyond life? Did she even

  realise he was exactly the same Michael?

  “You’l always be my mother. I’m stil Michael. Do I act

  any different? Do I look any different?”

  “You’re not Michael. My Michael would never have felt

  the need to lie to his family.” It came out as a sob and it

  broke his heart. “My Michael wouldn’t want to be around

  dead things. Even if…” Michael knew she was hoping

  against hope he wasn’t the same as Christian.

  Even as his own heart broke, Michael restrained himself

  from trying to comfort her. “Technical y, yes he is dead

  because he doesn’t have a heartbeat. But we stil breathe.”

  He inhaled deeply indicating it to her. “Please Mum, I

  couldn’t bear to lose you again. Please. I love you.” Michael

  covered his face with his hands trying to push the hurt at her

  reaction away.

  Silently he swore as his mother gasped at his slip of the

  tongue.

  “How did you find out?” Michael asked quietly, and she

  snorted at him in disbelief or maybe disgust.

  “I saw him in those clippings — your Chris. So many

  years and he is stil exactly the same, then I remembered

  what Sebastian’s son looked like. I was surprised I didn’t

  recognise him at first sight. Did you know what he was

  when you first met? Did he… Did he?” her words trailed off

  as she gestured wildly toward him.

  “I didn’t meet Chris until a long time after I woke up —

  not dead. ” Michael decided against tel ing her it was

  Christian who had done this to him. “He real y is a good

  man.”

  “He’s not a man at al ! Apparently neither of you are. Do

  the others know, or are you keeping them in the dark as

  wel ? How can they stand to be around you?” His mother

  snarled, yet her eyes stil held a different emotion. And

  Michael knew she was fighting hard against her instinct to

  mother him.

  Michael nodded and winced as she inhaled sharply.

  “They know.”

  “Are they?” His mother couldn’t finish her sentence. Her

  eyes were wild and her fingers dug into the arm of her

  chair.

  Nervously, Michael nodded again.

  “You took your sister to a house where not one person is

  alive. A house where al they want is blood. How could you

  do that? How could you put her in danger? What if one of

  them had of been… thirsty?”

  This made al the pent up anger in Michael rise to the

  surface. “Then they would have walked out to the kitchen

  and fricken made a cup of tea.” Michael snapped as he

  smacked his hand down on the arm of the chair with

  enough force they heard the frame crack within. “Gypsy’s

  family. They love her, I love her, and they love you and Dad.

  You are the first family some of them have had in a very

  long time. And how do you treat them? Like they are a

  bunch of blood thirsty monsters that do nothing but kil

  people.”

  “Wel don’t they?” His mother threw her hands up in

  disbelief, and it was then Michael saw the little piece of

  doubt which he had lodged in her. She was having a hard

  time choosing between her son being a monster and her

  son being just that — her son.

  This was turning out to be one rip roaring — albeit very

  strange — argument. At least Michael could tel his mother

  was starting to become interested in what he was trying to

  tel her. She was beginning to see he was stil the same as

  he had always been.

  Again Michael slammed his fist down onto the arm of the

  chair again and whatever cracked before now completely

  broke in two. “No, Mum! We’re not murderers.” He thought

  it best not to mention how this was only a recent transition

  and stil had a few flaws that needed to be worked out.r />
  His mother’s voice was returning to normal pitch and he

  could tel she wanted to reach out and touch him in comfort

  but restrained herself. “Then how?” Her eyes had lost some

  of their wildness, now they were heading toward being

  merely curious. “Is it like Angel? Do you drink animal

  blood?” She relaxed slightly.

  Sighing, Michael agreed, “Something similar.” It hadn’t

  even occurred to him to forgo human blood; the very idea of

  it wasn’t appealing. But if it helped her to think of them that

  way then he didn’t mind. “Besides, we don’t need to kil the

  things we feed from. No harm comes to any of them. They

  get to go on and live their lives as if nothing has ever

  happened to them.” Biting his tongue to make himself shut

  up in case he broke down and told his mum the complete

  truth – confessing was something he never planned on

  doing – ever. His eyes burned and his nostrils flared, he

  hadn’t fed in a while and his mother’s scent was real y nice,

  it was beginning to make him dizzy. He would have to get

  away from her soon.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Michael shook his head in denial. He didn’t want to

  scare her again, not now she was final y starting to come

  around.

  “You want to know something that always confused me

  about vampires? Why did Angel not eat human food, when

  Spike clearly did? He was always going on about those

  damn onion flowers.” His mother relaxed further and

  Michael started to laugh.

  “Spike and Angel are characters on a television show.

  They’re not real. And besides, Angel always was a bit of a

  pansy.”

  In the next breath his mother changed the subject. “I can’t

  believe you broke my chair. How am I going to explain how

  it got broken to your father?”

  Michael shrugged and grinned. “So Mum, where is

  Gypsy real y?”

  His mother blushed. “Your sister threw the mother of al

  hissy fits and made your aunty Kay come and pick her up.

  She isn’t talking to me.”

  “Sounds like Gypsy.” Michael snorted and then winced

  as hunger pains cramped his stomach.

  His mother watched him intently. “You just lied to me. You

  do need to feed?”

  Michael’s hands had begun to shake. “Yes.”

  “Do I smel good to you?” It was not said in disgust or

  fear, for which he was grateful.

  Michael shook his head in denial, but answered truthful y.