by Pete Johnson
‘Funny,’ I said. ‘Most parents try and stop their children reading too many horror stories.’
‘But then we’re not most parents, are we?’ said Dad, chuckling. Both he and Mum are still in an incredibly good mood.
11.15 a.m.
I’ve stopped reading already. There’s no getting away from it, vampires are nasty, bad-tempered, blood-sucking weirdos. And they’re so gloomy all the time. I just want to say to them, Lighten up. I mean, you’ve never heard of a vampire cracking a joke, have you? While I think laughing is the secret of life. I really do.
Well, think about it – what are the only good bits of school? It’s when you’re messing about with your mates, isn’t it, and you’ve got a pain from laughing so much. Those funny bits help you get through the rest.
And I’m always messing about, so I’m completely the wrong kind of personality to be a vampire. And yeah, I know I’ve got a fang dangling down my mouth. But that’s nothing to do with me. It’s like suddenly catching chickenpox, only I’ve caught a fang.
I keep examining this fang in my mirror. At first, I’d been a bit excited by what I saw. I even showed off a bit, didn’t I? But now I just keep thinking what would happen if someone in my class saw me. They’d run for their life, wouldn’t they? Well, maybe not Joel. But even he’d be very uneasy around me. And who could blame him?
I’m just not myself any more. Instead, I’m being turned into a hideous freak. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
8.35 p.m.
This evening I was allowed to stagger downstairs. Me and my pet fang sat there watching some telly. And I was trying to feel a bit normal when Dad got up.
‘We’ve got a present for you, Marcus.’
‘Bring it on then,’ I said.
Dad stepped forward with Mum smiling behind him. ‘This is for you, son.’ Then he whipped a white envelope out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I looked at it and sniffed. ‘Can I smell money inside?’ I said.
‘Something more precious than that,’ replied Dad.
‘Hmm, not sure I like the sound of that,’ I said, ripping open the envelope. Inside was a card with just one word on it in huge red capitals …
VED.
‘Say what you see,’ asked Dad.
‘What is this, an eye test?’ I answered. ‘I see V E D.’
‘Which spells?’ asked Dad.
‘Ved, I suppose.’
Dad and Mum grinned at each other. ‘And we’re delighted to inform you,’ said Dad, ‘that this is your new name, specially chosen for you on your thirteenth birthday by the Half-Vampires Association.’
‘Ved!’ I exclaimed. ‘What a veddy stupid name. This is a joke, isn’t it?’
‘Don’t be silly, love,’ said Mum. ‘Ved is your true name. And in the evenings when we are alone here or in the company of other half-vampires, we will call you Ved.’
‘Oh, please don’t,’ I cried, ‘as I absolutely hate it.’
But Mum and Dad just carried on speaking as though I hadn’t said anything. ‘It’s a fine name,’ said Dad.
‘Yes, with a wonderful simplicity about it,’ added Mum.
This got me even madder. In the end I sprang up and handed Dad the card. ‘You like the name so much, you can have it.’
The twinkle which had been in Dad’s eye all day suddenly died away. ‘Your mother and I already have our half-vampire names, and one day when we think you are ready, you may call us by those names.’
‘What a day that’ll be,’ I said. ‘But honestly, pick another envelope; find me a better name than that. How about Brad? I think that sort of suits me.’
‘Your name is Ved,’ said Dad, getting a bit cross now. ‘Honour that name tonight by saying, just before you fall asleep: “I am Ved.” Say it now.’
I looked at him. ‘I am veddy, veddy sorry, but I hate that name.’
Mum sighed. ‘You will come to see that name as a vital part of your ancestry.’
‘The day I do that,’ I said, ‘I won’t be me any more. I’ll just be some clone of you. And I quite like being me. OK, I’m a bit of an idiot, but basically I’m an all right sort of guy, and that’s how I intend to stay.’
Then I stormed upstairs.
9.05 p.m.
Mum and Dad have just visited my bedroom, on a sort of peace mission.
‘Overall, we think you’re coping very well,’ said Mum. ‘And your fang will disappear at midnight.’
‘So what happens to me next?’
‘Cravings,’ said Mum.
I gaped at her. ‘What!’
‘You’ll get desperate cravings. You might want to visit graveyards, even try and sleep there,’ said Mum.
‘Gross or what?’ I groaned.
‘Oh, it only lasts for a few days,’ said Mum airily. ‘Well, usually.’
‘And what do I do in this graveyard exactly, while I’m having this craving?’
‘Oh, just wander about,’ said Dad. ‘Sometimes you sing too.’
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I cried. ‘That’s tragic.’
‘With me,’ said Dad, ‘Ibecame mad about bats.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘Spent ages trying to catch one and keep it as a pet.’
‘Well, I’m not singing in a graveyard or getting all matey with a gang of bats,’ I said firmly.
‘Of course, occasionally, half-vampires—’ began Dad, but then he saw Mum shaking her head at him and said, ‘But no sense in alarming you unnecessarily. I’m sure you won’t do that.’
‘Do what?’ I demanded.
Dad smiled. ‘I’ve said enough – more than the manual recommended, in fact.’
‘Well, I can’t wait,’ I said.
‘You won’t have to,’ said Mum. ‘The cravings should start first thing tomorrow. Well, goodnight, Ved.’
‘Who’s Ved?’ I asked. ‘Never heard of him.’
‘Do me a favour, Ved,’ said Dad.
‘If you do me one first,’ I replied. ‘Stop calling me Ved.’
‘Ved,’ Dad growled, ‘I am giving you some important advice, so break the habit of a lifetime and listen. Whatever happens, do not try and stop the vampire side of your nature coming through.’
‘No,’ said Mum anxiously. ‘Never ever do that.’
‘Why, what happens then?’ I asked. Total silence for a moment. And then I’m sure I glimpsed fear in Mum’s eyes.
Fear! But why?
‘I know you will be a sensible boy,’ Dad said at last, ‘and you can start by saying, “I am Ved” over and over. Will you do that for us?’
Total silence from me now.
9.45 p.m.
I’ve worked out why Mum looked so frightened by my question.
MY PARENTS KNOW I CAN STOP MYSELF FROM TURNING INTO A HALF-VAMPIRE. IT ISN’T A DONE DEAL AT ALL. I STILL HAVE THE POWER TO STAY AS I AM.
And surely I’m entitled to choose. Now, of course, some people – like Tallulah – would love to be half a monster. Actually she’d make a great vampire, as she’s got no sense of humour and is always very bad-tempered.
And my mum and dad are obviously having a good time – and that’s OK with me. I’m broad-minded.
But it’s not for me.
So here’s my cunning plan, blog. I shall secretly do everything I can to stop myself from turning into a half-vampire – starting now.
9.55 p.m.
‘I am not Ved. I am not Ved.’
I keep chanting this over and over.
10.50 p.m.
‘I am not Ved. I am not Ved.’
Yeah, I’m still saying it.
Friday 5 October
3.25 a.m.
Just been woken up by my parents peering at me, with torches. I blinked up at them. ‘I’m sure there’s a good reason for you two doing this. I’m just not sure I want to hear what it is.’
‘Sorry, dear,’ said Mum airily. ‘We only needed to see if your— Oh, yes, here it is on your pillow.’ And she very carefully picked up my white f
ang. ‘We wanted to keep it safe for you.’
‘Just make certain you water it every day – and I’ll tell you what, why don’t you call it Ved?’
‘This is for you too,’ said Dad, slapping down a five-pound note on my bedside table. ‘You get five pounds for a white fang, and guess what you get for your yellow fang … fifty pounds!’
‘But the yellow fang only comes through,’ said Mum, ‘when you have changed over into a half-vampire.’
So that’s fifty pounds I’ll never see, I thought.
‘And don’t worry about your cravings tomorrow,’ said Mum. ‘We’ll be here to help you.’
7.05 a.m.
Well, I don’t think I’ve woken up with any wild cravings, but I’ll just check with myself:
‘Marcus, do you want to leap around singing in a graveyard or pal up with the local bats?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘And have you got any other cravings?’
‘Not one, except – and this is seriously freaky – I want to go to school.’
This has never happened to me before. But right now I want to be back in totally normal, extremely boring, everyday life. I don’t even care how mind-rotting the lessons are. Anything’s better than hanging out in this Chamber of Horrors.
8.00 a.m.
Mum and Dad were astonished to see me downstairs in full school uniform.
‘Oh, we were going to let you have another day off,’ said Mum.
‘Well, you know I think school’s a really groovyplace and hate to miss one millisecond.’
They both just stared at me.
‘I wonder,’ said Mum, ‘if it might be wise to wait one more day, until we see how your craving develops?’
‘I haven’t got a craving,’ I said firmly.
‘You haven’t got one yet,’ said Dad eagerly. ‘But one could strike during the day.’
‘Honestly, I’ll be OK,’ I said.
And I know I will be.
CHAPTER FOUR
8.50 a.m.
Strolled into my classroom. ‘Yeah, folks, start cheering because he’s back. And if you’ve missed me shout “Missed you!” and do it really loudly now.’
Deafening silence.
‘Ah well, I guess you’re all just too shy,’ I said. ‘But I can see by your faces how thrilled you are to see me.’
‘Of course we’re pleased you’re back,’ came one voice at last: Joel. He started patting me on the back.
‘Joel, if I’ve got just one mate like you,’ I said, ‘then I really am desperate.’
‘So what’s been wrong with you?’ asked Joel.
‘I’ve had a very rare and mysterious illness,’ I said.
‘Called skiving,’ grinned Joel.
‘No, called a severe stomach upset.’ I knew this was what my mum had told the school and it wasn’t a total lie.
Then I noticed Tallulah hovering by us. I smiled at her.
‘Are you looking at me?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, I suppose I am,’ I said.
‘Well, don’t,’ she snapped, and then gave Joel a look before stalking off.
‘Don’t mind her,’ said Joel. ‘She’s a bit worked up because something’s about to kick off.’
‘What?’ I asked.
‘I’ve sworn an oath of secrecy which stops me divulging the details, even to a fine, upstanding mate like you.’ Then he added, ‘But you will be truly amazed.’
9.20 a.m.
I have just been ‘truly amazed’.
We had Year Eight assembly and Mr Townley, the headmaster, pranced up onto the stage: bald head, bristly moustache, yappy voice, and wears the same brown suit every single day of his life. He’s one of those people who looks cross even when he’s in a good mood.
Today he was rattling on about something or other when, bang in the middle of this yawn-fest, Tallulah shot to her feet and shouted out, ‘Mr Townley, I want to drink your blood!’ Townley’s mouth just fell open with shock.
But before he or anyone else could recover, up jumped a boy in my class. ‘Mr Townley, I want to drink your blood!’ And then another boy and another boy, all chanting the same phrase. Finally up sprang Joel. ‘Mr Townley, I want to drink your blood.’
By now, all the mob around me was on their feet – and I thought it would be extremely rude not to join in. So I pranced to my feet and said, ‘Mr Townley, I also want to drink your blood. Slurp! Slurp!’ I added that last bit just to keep the routine fresh and stop people getting bored.
Well, I got a great bellow of laughter for my efforts, which pleased me greatly actually.
But Mr Townley suddenly came out of his trance and bellowed, ‘Stop this tomfoolery at once.’ Although I think it was the highly menacinglook inhiseyes which also quietened everyone. When Townley goes berserk, even the teachers run for cover.
He then pointed at Tallulah and yelled: ‘You, to my room now!’ Then he asked the teacher who was hovering beside him like a nervous waitress to take the names of all the pupils who had let down their school so shamelessly. We would all have double detentions,while thisassembly would continue after school on Monday, for everyone.
Still, it had been a truly classic moment. I said this to Joel. He agreed with me, but then added, ‘Actually, while your enthusiasm was admirable, this was a dare just for the members’ – he lowered his voice – ‘of the M.I.S.’
‘Oh sorry, I hadn’t realized this dare was by invitation only,’ I said.
‘It was an easy mistake to make,’ said Joel. ‘I’m sure it doesn’t really matter.’
11.00 a.m.
Only it did
I’ve just had my head torn off by Tallulah. Now there’s an experience I’ll never forget.
She’d been away from lessons until break time and a rumour went round that she’d been suspended. But she got away with a letter home to her parents – and a double detention. So you’d have thought she might have been a bit relieved about that.
Oh no, she blew over to Joel and me at the end of break like a mad tornado. ‘Howlett, you’ve got the IQ of a plankton,’ she cried.
‘As high as that!’ I cried. ‘Oh, thanks.’
‘That dare was nothing to do with you, but you had to interfere and try and be funny, didn’t you?’
‘You didn’t like the slurp, slurp bit then?’ I said.
‘I didn’t like any of it,’ she cried.
‘If I might just interject here,’ said Joel. But Tallulah squelched him with a glare. ‘Or maybe I’ll just stay quiet,’ he murmured.
‘Because of your act of sabotage,’ went on Tallulah, ‘all members of M.I.S. have got to do another dare.’
‘Oh, have we?’murmured Joel unenthusiastically.
‘Yes we have,’ said Tallulah.
‘I think sabotage is a bit strong,’ I said.
‘Nowhere near as strong as a word I’d like to use,’ she said.
I said, ‘Look, Tallulah, I’m sorry you think I sabotaged your dare, and right now, if I could, I’d make myself invisible.’
‘Do it anyway,’ said Tallulah. Then she added, ‘You don’t take anything seriously, but M.I.S. is not to be laughed at, ever.’
As she swept off Joel murmured, ‘Isn’t she marvellous?’
4.30 p.m.
Now here’s a weird thing. When I got home both my parents were waiting for me. But that’s not the weird thing yet. No, I’m just building up to that.
They asked me how I was feeling and looked distinctly crestfallen when I said, ‘Never better.’They were certain I’d have had some mad cravings by now. Then they asked about my day. So I handed them this letter from Mr Townley saying what a thoroughly naughty boy I’d been.
And normally my parents would have freaked out at receiving a letter like that. But – and here’s the weird thing at last – they weren’t bothered at all. Well, not when they found out what I’d done in assembly.
‘You heard your friends say: “Mr Townley, I want to drink your blood!” and
you just had to join in,’ said Dad, with pride throbbing in his voice. ‘Well, I suppose that’s understandable. You are a half-vampire.’
And there was Mum smiling away too. But that wasn’t why I’d joined in. I saw some pupils fooling about and so I had to support them. It was just a laugh and nothing to do with my vampire side bursting through.
4.35 p.m.
Nothing at all. Just like to make that really clear.
4.45 p.m.
Mum said to me, ‘So what would you like for tea, Ved?’
‘Who are you talking to?’ I asked.
‘You, of course,’ said Mum.
‘But my name’s Marcus.’
‘I’m using your other name – your true name.’ And then she said it again really softly: ‘Ved.’
‘Mum, you really can’t do this, you know. After thirteen years of having one name, you can’t suddenly give me another one. That’s just going to leave me seriously confused. In fact, there’s probably a law against it.’
‘We wait until your thirteenth birthday to tell you your wonderful secret,’ said Mum. ‘As that’s when wethink you’re ready to appreciate this news. And it would make your father and me very happy if you would now call yourself by your real name at night, and embrace your destiny,’ she said.
‘Marcus is my real name,’ I said firmly. ‘If you really wanted, you could call me Marcus Ved, or Marcus Von Ved – now that’s got a certain ring to it, hasn’t it?’
Mum just frowned in reply.
10.30 p.m.
‘I am not – nor ever will be – Ved.’
I shall fall asleep chanting that again tonight.
Saturday 6 October
9.05 a.m.
It seems to be working. Not a glimmer of a craving. Result, or what?
10.15 p.m.
Tonight Mum said, ‘I’ve got something to show you, Ved.’ (Yeah, she and Dad are still pushing that creepy name.) Then she got out her certificate for French A Level. Grade A too.
‘Yeah. Great, Mum, but you have let me see it about ninety-four times before. Not thatI’msaying you’re a show-off or anything.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but did you ever wonder when I found time to study for this exam?’
