Diary of a Wimpy Vampire

by Tim Collins

  FRIDAY 18TH FEBRUARY

  8.30AM

  We don’t have to go to school today because it’s snowing. My sister ran into my room at six to announce this like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened. She must have opened her curtains to see snow a million times by now, but it still makes her giddy with excitement.

  She’s so stupid that I wonder if she even knows she’s been alive for almost a century. Perhaps she has no sense of time passing at all, like a goldfish swimming around a bowl.

  When you’re as dense as my sister, living forever is a breeze. But when you’re as sensitive and intelligent as me, it’s not easy. Not that I expect anyone to understand.

  From the excited laughter I can hear outside my window, I’m guessing that everyone else shares my sister’s idiotic joy that a snow day should occur just before the half-term break. All it means to me is that I have to wait ten long days before I see my darling Chloe again.

  10AM

  My sister has built a snowpire using carrots for fangs and a bin bag for a cape. I thought my parents would tell her off for exposing our identity, but they seemed to think it was the most adorable thing they’d ever seen. As ever, it’s one rule for me, and one rule for my sister.

  Dad said it was the only vampire he’d ever seen that really would be destroyed by sunlight and then he laughed at his own stupid joke.

  1PM

  I am so bored I am now watching Sesame Street. I have to say, I find the character of The Count somewhat offensive. He has a huge nose, pointy ears and a ridiculous Eastern European accent. They wouldn’t get away with doing this about any other minority group.

  If they insist on showing all the usual cliched stuff like castles and bats, they could at least balance it out by showing the positive side of vampirism as well, like our unnatural beauty and strength.

  Plus, if they’re going to show a vampire with a rank of nobility, why does it always have to be a count? They would find that vampires have also been archdukes, barons, knights, margraves, viscounts and kings if they spent more time researching and less time making up silly jokes about us counting things.

  SATURDAY 19TH FEBRUARY

  7AM

  Mum and Dad are out hunting, and I’m expecting a bumper harvest of blood. They always get loads when it’s snowing, as it makes humans much easier to trap and mesmerize.

  I can’t wait to see what kind they bring back. If you’re a human and you’re reading this, you might think it must be boring for me to drink blood all the time. But I think it must be boring to eat food all the time.

  There are so many different flavours and textures of blood that it never feels like you’re having the same thing over and over again. Sometimes, if it’s a special occasion such as a transformation day, we even have a three-course meal, starting with a glass of something light and thin like type A-, tucking into hot bowls of thick, nourishing type B+, and finishing with a sweet dessert blood from someone with high blood-sugar levels.

  5PM

  Good news! Mum and Dad have brought back loads of lovely type O-. And the best thing is, they’ve harvested so many flasks of it they couldn’t even fit them in the fridge, and they’ve let me take some up to my room for a feast!

  7PM

  Having a good time getting through the blood. Starting to feel a bit stuffed, but it would be a shame to waste all this lovely stuff. I imagine this is what humans feel like on Christmas day.

  9PM

  Still getting through the flasks. Have decided to teach myself dancing.

  10PM

  Why won’t Mum and Dad admit they attacked the caretaker? Why do they insist on lying to me? What else are they hiding from me?

  11PM

  My parents are alright really. I shouldn’t be so suspicious of them. They’re not so bad when it comes down to it.

  12AM

  Why doesn’t Chloe love me? Nothing ever goes right in my life. What does anything even mean?

  1AM

  Feeling ill now.

  SUNDAY 20TH FEBRUARY

  I would like to apologize for the haphazard nature of yesterday’s entries. When vampires drink too much blood, it produces a state that is similar to drunkenness in humans.

  I have been lying in bed with a thumping headache today. It’s at times like this that I wish vampires could sleep.

  In future, I will be more careful about how much blood I consume. It’s said that if vampires regularly drink too much, they become bloodoholics. You used to hear about drifter vampires who lived in a constant state of thirst, becoming too slow and clumsy to hunt, and leading a miserable existence of sneaking into blood banks through windows. By the time they were caught and destroyed by irate mobs, they were usually relieved.

  MONDAY 21ST FEBRUARY

  I am feeling better today and have decided to limit myself to three flasks of blood a night.

  I went down to the shopping precinct today and sat on a bench. I noticed that a nearby group of older teenagers were smoking, so I asked them to stop but they refused. I can’t believe how anti-social they were. Don’t they know they could kill someone with those things? Obviously, they couldn’t kill me with them, but they could have damaged the lungs of a human. What if my precious Chloe had been walking past?

  I know I wouldn’t like it if someone went out in public and did something harmful to me, like throwing holy water and garlic everywhere. If I had vampire speed, I would have snatched their cigarettes and thrown them away in a rapid blur of motion. As it was, I had to make do with tutting and shaking my head, but I think I made my point.

  TUESDAY 22ND FEBRUARY

  10AM

  Dad told me off this morning for hogging the bathroom when I brush my teeth. He said that vampires don’t even need to do it, as our teeth can’t decay. That may be true, but I still need to keep my breath minty fresh. After my experience with the deodorant, I’m not taking any chances.

  1AM

  If you think half term can be boring, you should try going without sleep for the whole thing.

  There’s nothing to watch on TV and I’m stuck on an end-of- level boss in my current PlayStation game. Welcome to the shadowy, fiendish realm of the undead. I don’t think.

  I will now try and count up to 10,000 just to pass the time.

  2AM

  I got as far as 148 before I realized how much I resembled The Count from Sesame Street. I refuse to conform to these vicious stereotypes.

  WEDNESDAY 23RD FEBRUARY

  8AM

  How can it only be Wednesday? This half-term holiday has already felt longer than most summer holidays. What if Chloe has moved again to a different town? What if another boy has stolen her from me while I languish here? What if she’s dead? And I don’t mean dead in a cool way like me, but actually a dead body.

  I must stop torturing myself with these possibilities.

  7PM

  I tried to shave my upper lip tonight because I’ve heard that it makes a moustache grow quicker so you look older.

  I kept cutting my lip and having to wait for it to heal, so I got bored. I don’t really want a moustache anyway, because Dad has one, and it’s not cool to look like a miniature version of your parents. In the nineties I had a human friend whose dad used to make the entire family wear matching orange tracksuits. He said it would make it easier for them to find each other in the event of a fire, although why he chose such easily flammable items of clothing for this, I have no idea.

  1AM

  Why has this forbidden desire taken over my life? Why did I have to fall in love with a mortal? I am the predator stalking over moonlit hillsides, and she is the sheep for whom I burn with desire.

  That last bit came out wrong.

  THURSDAY 24TH FEBRUARY

  I think something very odd happened to me today, but I’m not sure if I was imagining it. I was walking down the road to the shopping precinct when a coach full of old people drove past. I caught the eyes of one of the old ladies in it, and I thought fo
r a second that she was Caroline Blake, a girl I used to fancy in the fifties. As the coach drove away, I tried to work out if it was possible. If she was fifteen in the early fifties, then I suppose she could be in her seventies now.

  I’ve got so used to moving around that I forget humans get older. Since I knew Caroline, she’s probably got married, had kids, had grandkids, bought a house, moved house, got a job, lost a job, got another job, got ill, got better and gone grey. And what have I done in all this time? Nothing.

  Even my heroic attempt to memorize all the statistics on Supercars Top Trumps seems trivial and pointless in this light.

  FRIDAY 25TH FEBRUARY

  The experience that I might or might not have had yesterday has made me realize I have to declare my love to Chloe soon. I can’t let her slip away and watch her go past in a coachload of old folk in the 2070s. Today I shall reveal that I’m immortal and announce my everlasting love for her.

  On second thoughts, I might start by asking her to come to the cinema with me.

  SATURDAY 26TH FEBRUARY

  Tomorrow my sister and I will celebrate our transformation day, which is the vampire equivalent of a birthday.

  It’s celebrated because we’re supposed to believe that the day you became a vampire is more important than the day you were born as a human.

  We were both transformed in East London on 27th February 1927. Mum and Dad fed on our necks until we were weak, and then mixed vampire blood into our veins. A few moments later we effectively ‘died’ and then came back to life as vampires. A transformation isn’t always a pleasant thing to watch, but then again neither is human childbirth if we’re being honest.

  My parents took us from the crowded orphanage where we lived to a comfortable town house, so they’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. But I still find it arrogant of them to assume that we want to celebrate the end of our human lives. They’ve been vampires for so long now that all their human memories have gone, but every now and then I still get an echo of how it felt to enjoy a satisfying roast dinner or drift off to sleep with the rain falling on the window.

  I haven’t forgotten the actual day I was born on, either. It was 14th May 1911. This is how I know I’m nearly 100 years old.

  Note to self: One way or another, I must win Chloe’s heart before my 100th birthday. I can’t turn 100 without having had a girlfriend. That would just be tragic.

  SUNDAY 27TH FEBRUARY

  My sister came bounding into my room at six this morning to remind me about our transformation day. I don’t know why it still thrills her so much. I admit I used to find it exciting, but after a while it begins to serve as a depressing reminder of how long you’ve been undead, and how little you’ve achieved in that time.

  I was quite happy lying in bed and thinking about Chloe, but my sister insisted on dragging me downstairs. For breakfast Mum took a flask of type AB+ out of the fridge that she’s been saving for a special occasion.

  After we drank it, we opened our presents. I got a Faberge Egg, some original Leonardo da Vinci sketches and a smoking jacket that once belonged to Lord Byron. I would have preferred Guitar Hero, but I made an effort to pretend that I got what I wanted. Mum and Dad are being suspiciously nice to me at the moment. They must be trying to win back my trust after I found out about their attack on the caretaker.

  My sister got a Stradivari violin, a crystal skull and a ballgown that once belonged to the young Marie Antoinette. She seemed overjoyed with her presents, although I can’t imagine what use she’ll make of them. You can bet that skull will be broken this time next week.

  I’m back at school tomorrow, and I’ve promised myself that I’ll ask Chloe to come on a date with me.

  MONDAY 28TH FEBRUARY

  I went back to school today, and am happy to report that cruel fate has not yet snatched Chloe from me. I had a good chat with her in the library at lunchtime, although I didn’t ask her to come on a date with me as I’d promised myself. I think I spent too long talking to her about the questions on fish farming we had to do for Science. It wasn’t a very seductive topic, in retrospect.

  I tried to think of something I did in the holidays to tell her about, but the only things I could thing of were the time I drank too much blood and my transformation day, and that side of my life must remain cloaked for now.

  But soon you shall know the truth, flower of the mortal realm.

  TUESDAY 1ST MARCH

  10AM

  Craig was giving everyone a pinch and a thump this morning, saying ‘Pinch, punch, first of the month’. I didn’t mind because I don’t feel pain, but Wayne looked rather angry.

  1PM

  Craig has given Susan from our class (who looks like a troll) a note saying that he fancies her. Except he hasn’t really, because the note was a fake written by Wayne to get revenge, and now Craig has found out that there will be a fight in the playing fields after school. Chloe and I had a chat about how childish all of this behaviour is. We have chosen to attend the fight nonetheless.

  7PM

  The fight was a disappointment to say the very least. We all stood around in a circle chanting the word ‘fight’ and then Craig and Wayne pushed each other a bit until Mr Morris came along and broke it up.

  It’s times like this when I wish there were still a few vampires around to give us some proper entertainment. Although all vampires would face permanent exclusion if they killed one of their own kind, they could formally challenge each other to duels. These duels were epic physical struggles of vampire martial arts that often went on for days and crossed several continents. Which sounds more entertaining than a couple of teenagers shoving each other until a teacher turns up.

  After the non-fight, I walked Chloe home for the first time. She lives on Heywood Lane, the poshest road in Stockfield, as her dad works in insurance. We could afford to live there if we wanted, but Dad won’t spend money on anything because he says it will draw attention to us. Yet he lets Mum hang her ancient ballgowns and corsets on the washing line where everyone can see them. Could he be any more of a hypocrite?

  If you ask me, we’re much more likely to draw attention to ourselves by living in a semi-detached house. If someone with better hearing than Mr Perkins ever moves in next door, they might wonder why we stay awake all night every night.

  WEDNESDAY 2ND MARCH

  We had a lesson about food chains in Science this morning, and it was one of those occasions where I have to keep quiet even though I know the teacher is wrong. Mrs Jones claimed that humans are ‘apex predators’ because they reside at the top of their food chain. I know this is nonsense because vampires feed on them, so we’re the ones who really sit at the top of the food chain. But I managed to keep quiet as she spewed out the misinformation.

  I’m still off PE on Wednesday afternoons on account of my imaginary bad back. Whenever I walk past Mr Jenkins he really glares at me to see if I’m ill. I know he can’t wait for me to go back to his stupid lessons so he can find some new way of humiliating me.

  Usually, when I’m feeling angry about a human, I just remind myself that they’ll get old and die one day, and then I begin to feel sorry for them. Not in the case of Mr Jenkins, though. I can feel no pity whatsoever for that fiend.

  THURSDAY 3RD MARCH

  We had an assembly about global warming today. Apparently, the polar ice caps are melting, and everywhere will be underwater soon. Mrs Maguire kept going on about how we mustn’t leave our TVs on standby to save the planet. Why should she care? She’ll be dead by then. How does she think I feel? I’m immortal, and I’ll be around to see the whole stupid thing. And the worst thing is, I hate swimming.

  I wouldn’t mind spending eternity on a watery planet with Chloe, though. We could live on a mountain together, and feed on the people swimming past. It would be really romantic.

  This afternoon we had fire alarm practice, and Craig sent all the younger pupils into a frenzy by pretending it was a real fire. I got told off by Mr Morris for not being quic
k enough, but I didn’t care. A real fire wouldn’t do me any lasting damage anyway, unless somebody accidentally chopped my head off in the panic.

  FRIDAY 4TH MARCH

  I spent today avoiding Craig because he was showing off his new camera phone and I’m under strict instructions to stay away from cameras.

  The idea that vampires don’t show up in photographs is just another silly myth, of course. But like many of these misconceptions, it has a basis in truth. Vampires have to stay out of photographs because they make it obvious that we don’t age. The last thing you want is for someone to produce a photo of you looking exactly the same twenty years ago.

  This is more of a problem for Mum and Dad, as their vampire beauty draws attention even if they’re in the very background of a shot. Whereas I’m so instantly forgettable you could live next door to me for years without noticing that I’ve always been fifteen.

  Overall, we’ve been quite good at avoiding photos over the years, but every day it gets harder to duck out of the way of digital cameras, speed cameras and CCTV. The only bright side is that our mantelpiece isn’t cluttered with embarrassing childhood snaps.

  SATURDAY 5TH MARCH

  Mum is upset with Dad because he never uses the mobile phone she bought him. I told her not to buy it, as he always mistrusts new technology. He wouldn’t even buy us a washing machine until about twenty years after everyone else had one because he thought it would shrink his capes.

  Mum says that she just wants to be able to ring him and make sure that he’s safe, but I don’t know what she thinks is going to happen to him. Unless he falls heart-first onto an upright wooden stake, I doubt he’ll be in too much danger.