by VJ Dunraven
Mom remained silent, her mouth compressing into a thin line.
“... and you think it's best for me to leave it all behind—” Elizabeth looked her in the eyes, “because you expect me to believe that we're Vampires?” She jumped up from the couch and threw her hands in the air with exasperation, turning her back on her mom.
“I have no choice,” Mom said evenly.
“Well—neither do I!” Elizabeth abruptly swung around, tears spilling on her cheeks. “You don't know what it's like!” She stabbed a forefinger angrily towards her mom, then ran to her room and slammed the door.
Chapter 3
The Conversion
The dreary morning became grayer and colder as Elizabeth watched Sue park her pink VW by the curb from her bedroom window. In spite of her fatigue from spending the night tossing and turning, she was determined not to miss school. She grabbed her backpack and started down the stairs.
“You can't go to school!” her mom yelled from the bottom step.
Elizabeth pushed past her without a word and ran out the door towards the waiting car.
Mom raced after her and caught the passenger door before she had the chance to shut it.
“I said—you can't go to school!” Mom snapped.
“I can't miss my test!” Elizabeth glowered.
Anger leapt from her mother's blue eyes. “Get out of the car,” she demanded.
“No!” Elizabeth met her narrowed eyes and they glared at each other.
A tension-filled silence ensued.
Sue noisily cleared her throat.
“You will regret this.” Mom shifted her gaze from her to Sue. “Wait here. Don't drive off.” She turned on her heel and stalked back to the house.
“What's up with you and your mom?” Sue asked.
“We had a fight last night.” Elizabeth closed the passenger door.
“After we left?” Sue grimaced. “No wonder you look like hell! What did you fight about?”
“Just something stupid.” She couldn't tell her friends the latest madness her mother had invented in her head.
“Sshh.” Sue’s eyes darted past her. “She's coming.”
“Here. Take these,” Mom bent by the window and shoved two aluminum cans at Elizabeth, “since you're too stubborn to listen!”
“What are these?” Elizabeth stared at the black cans embossed with an elegant crest of silver and blue.
“Diet drinks. You'll need them for your thirst!”
“But—,”
“Take them! Drink if you feel thirsty—do you understand me?”
Elizabeth nodded. She would agree to anything just to get away.
“Don't forget what I told you.” Mom gave her a harsh look before marching back to the house.
“Why didn't your mom want you to go to school?” Sue asked as they drove off.
“So she could ground me, what else?” Elizabeth lied.
“She made us so late.” Sue frowned. “Mrs. Brown is going to fry us!”
“Sorry,” Elizabeth mumbled. “I didn't know she would flip out on me.”
“Will you fix your hair?” Sue fished out a comb from her purse. “You look like Medusa.”
Elizabeth placed the cans on her lap and untangled her long tresses.
“Did your mom say those were diet drinks?” Sue glanced at the cans.
“Yeah.” Elizabeth held one up and read a small inscription that said HRC Europe below the crest. “I think it's imported.”
“Let me know if they work so I can get some too.” Sue parked the car and turned off the engine.
“Sure.” Elizabeth handed back the comb and slipped the cans inside her backpack. “We are definitely fried.” She pointed at the little clock on the dashboard. “Extra crispy.”
Mrs. Brown's class was already underway when they tried sneaking in. The short, stout teacher paused mid-sentence, peered over the glasses on her nose, and gave them a long, hard look in the doorway. Her painted eyebrows contorted in annoyance and her plump red lips curved into an inverted crescent.
“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Miss Hamilton, Miss Reynolds!” she barked with hands on her hips.
All heads turned toward them.
“My car broke down,” Sue said rather convincingly.
“And your house was on fire?” Mrs. Brown retorted with a snort.
“That was last year,” Sue replied matter-of-factly.
Elizabeth elbowed her to shut up.
“Sit down, Miss Reynolds!” Mrs. Brown roared, and then turned to Elizabeth. “And what about you, Miss Hamilton? Did your car break down too?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Your house burned to the ground?”
“No, ma'am.”
“Quit making excuses and sit down!”
Elizabeth scampered to the chair next to Sue.
Mrs. Brown resumed the lecture in her monotonous voice and the class dragged on. Elizabeth kept glancing up at the clock.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. The sound resonated louder by the second, until she couldn't stand it anymore. She jammed a finger in her ear and jiggled it. She was doing the same thing with her other ear when a strong scent hit her nostrils. Elizabeth crinkled her nose. Why was Mrs. Brown wearing so much perfume? It smelled like wilted flowers in a graveyard!
“Achoo!” Gina Flemings, who was sitting two rows ahead, wiped her nose and sniffled.
Elizabeth cringed. The spray of moisture from her sneeze spread like an umbrella, landing squarely on Joe Watson and Ronnie Sims. She stopped jiggling her ears and covered her nose instead.
“Hey!” Sue kicked her chair. “Does my breath stink?” She cupped her palm against her mouth and blew.
Elizabeth glanced sideways at her. “No—why?”
“Why are you covering your nose?” Sue sniffed her palm and grimaced.
“Oh—.” Elizabeth un-cupped her hands from her nose. “I thought I was about to sneeze.”
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
Elizabeth glowered at the wall clock ticking like a time bomb in her ear.
Tick-tock-tick--Wwweeeiiinnngg!
She bolted upright.
“You okay?” Sue looked up from her desk.
“Did you hear that?” She frantically looked around for the source of the screeching electric guitar.
“Hear what?” Sue scanned the room.
“Never mind.” Elizabeth sighed and sat back. The sound had progressed into rock music and no one seemed to hear it except for Billy Smith, who was tapping his foot to the beat. But he has his ear buds on. Weird.
Mrs. Brown stopped writing on the board and faced the class. The music suddenly stopped. Elizabeth watched Billy pull out his ear buds.
The bell rang with a loud shrill. She pressed her hands firmly against her ears, feeling as if her head would split.
“What are you doing?” Sue gave her a 'you're weirding-me-out' look as she gathered her things.
“That bell! It's so loud!”
Sue rolled her eyes. “It's been that way for the past four years, goofy!” She chuckled and headed towards the door.
Elizabeth jiggled her ears again and followed her out.
“Billy!” Sue waved at the tall, dark-haired boy ahead of them who swung around and waited for them to catch up. “Do you have new music downloads?”
“I got the Red Jackets,” he replied.
“Do you know the song Bee Sting by the Red Jackets?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, yeah!” Billy grinned. “I was just playing it in class on my Ipod.”
Elizabeth paused, perplexed. She was right! Billy was listening to that song! But how—?
“Swweeet!” Sue enthused. “Can you send me the file?”
“No prob.” Billy nodded. “Tonight.”
Lunchtime came. Elizabeth rubbed her temples as they made their way through the throng of kids in the hallway leading to the cafeteria. Her head hurt from all the chatter around her.
“Headache?�
�� Sue asked.
“Yeah.” She flinched as they passed a group of jocks who were bantering boisterously.
They reached the cafeteria and took their places in line.
“What are you having?” Sue peered at the food on the counter.
“Salad.” Elizabeth gagged, assaulted by the combination of food, disinfectant spray, and trash. The server eyed her and frowned.
“Are you sure you're okay?” Sue peered at her with concern.
“I'm fine.” She swallowed the bile in her throat and held her breath.
They paid and headed to the table where Anne, Charlie, Vanessa, and Bryan were sitting.
“Sit here, Lizzie-bee.” Bryan grabbed a chair from the next table and placed it next to his. “Here, Sue!” He pulled another chair and set it by Elizabeth's.
“Tickets and flyers to the Mardi Gras!” Anne handed leaflets to everyone on the table. “Charlie and I are in the French Club committee this year.”
“You guys better not miss it.” Charlie helped pass the leaflets around. “We'll do the annual awards ceremony for students and teachers who contributed time and talent in service to the school and community.”
“Sue is one of the awardees,” Anne added.
“Congrats, Sue!” Elizabeth said.
Sue thanked her and the rest of the group who expressed their kudos.
“We're also doing the Mardi Gras King Cake contest. You should participate, Vanessa!” Anne handed her a form.
“You betcha!” Vanessa reached out to grab the paper.
“Oh, and don't forget—,” Charlie waved the extra leaflets in the air to get their attention. “There's a prize for the best costume.”
“And because the Mardi Gras is also a dance,” Anne said, “you guys can bring a date.”
“Who are you going with, Bryan?” Sue asked.
Bryan looked at Elizabeth. “I don't know yet,” he replied over her head. “It depends.”
Elizabeth stared at the untouched salad on her tray. She knew Bryan would rather take her than ask some girl on a date.
Sue nudged her. “Aren't you hungry?”
“I think there are bugs in my salad.” Elizabeth peered at the tiny creatures crawling on the lettuce.
“Where?” Sue slid closer to look at her plate.
Elizabeth caught her scent. Her stomach growled.
“I can't see anything.” Sue turned to her, “looks fine to me.”
Elizabeth’s gaze drifted to the pulse throbbing on Sue's throat. She swallowed hungrily. God, she was thirsty!
Sue frowned. “What? Is there something on my neck?” She threw her head back to give Elizabeth a better view.
Elizabeth moved her face nearer. She was so famished and dehydrated that her gums itched. If only she could have a little ... she slowly parted her lips.
“Hey!” Sue snapped. “I'm getting a neck ache! Do you see anything?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah! Stay still.” Elizabeth blinked several times to zap whatever hallucination she'd fallen into and pretended to pick something off. Her hand trembled on contact with Sue's warm skin and an odd tingle emanated from her fingertips.
“Yikes!” Sue jumped. “Your fingers are freezing!”
Elizabeth quickly snatched her hand back and grasped her own neck in a chokehold. Something was wrong. A burning sensation had ignited in her parched throat and her thirst had become urgent, demanding immediate gratification. It wasn't water she craved.
Her eyes traveled greedily around the table. She was making a selection, but couldn't figure out why or what for. She fixated on Bryan and licked her lips.
“Lizzie-bee?”
His questioning emerald eyes brought back her sensibilities. Heat bombarded her cheeks when she realized how close she had drawn herself to him. His breath fanned on her face and her mouth was within an inch away from his, as if they were about to kiss.
She quickly recoiled.
“Did you hear what I said?” Bryan asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I'm sorry—what was that again?”
Bryan rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Who are you going with to the Mardi Gras?”
“Oh. That.” Her gaze drifted to the column of his neck. Peculiar sensations sizzled through her. She wanted to plant her mouth right there. She wanted to ... to—something was definitely wrong.
Bryan cleared his throat. “You're staring like I'm good enough to eat.” He pinched her chin playfully.
Elizabeth swiveled in her chair and pushed her tray forcefully away. The others stopped chatting and curiously glanced at her.
For a moment everyone was silent. What on earth was the matter with her?
Her mother's words rang in her head. You can't go to school. It's not safe.
Realization dawned and panic brewed. She has to get the hell out of here!
“I have to go.” She hastily stood up, grabbed her backpack, and shoved her chair away.
“Lizzie-bee! Wait!” She heard Bryan call after her as she fled.
She ignored him and rushed to the exit doors.
The brightness outside shocked her. Instinctively she covered her eyes, feeling like they’d been stung by wasps. She hid her face in her hair and peeked cautiously between her fingers to reorient herself. Keeping her head down, she made her way towards the covered walkway that led to the main building.
A few students brushed by, leaving a trail of savory scent in their wake. Her senses heightened in response. She stared after them, singling out a girl who was walking alone.
Opportunity, an unfamiliar voice whispered in her head.
Unable to resist, she found herself stalking the girl. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, moving stealthily, quicker than she thought herself capable. Gradually, the gap closed between them. As the girl turned into an isolated corner, she reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Hey!” the girl yelled.
Elizabeth's gums prickled and she salivated, her attention riveted to the girl’s throat.
The girl struggled against her firm grip, spilling her books. “What are you doing? Let go—!”
The shrill sound of the bell drowned the girl's voice, signaling the end of the lunch hour.
Elizabeth winced in sudden awareness. “Sorry! I'm so sorry!” She quickly released the girl's arm and backed away. “I thought you were somebody else. Sorry!” Oh God! What was she doing?
For the second time, reality set in as she watched the girl angrily pick up her books from the ground.
No one is safe around her, she thought in dismay.
She turned and ran—away from the girl, far from everyone. She kept on running until she found herself at the end of the football field. She collapsed underneath the nearby bleachers, rubbing the back of her neck. The pain had come back and it burned as badly as her desiccated throat.
Her body began to tremble.
She was hot; she was cold; she was wild with thirst.
Her eyes stung from the sunlight. She was in agony; she couldn't breathe. The darkness was swallowing her.
“Drink!” her mom's voice penetrated her fading consciousness.
In her delirium she saw her mother’s face in the shadows, squeezing her cheeks, forcing her cracked lips open.
“Mom . . .” she muttered, dazed, as warm liquid slid down her throat. It felt good, but then her stomach clenched violently. She wanted to throw up. Her whole body shuddered. She was being electrocuted. Sharp needles tortured her from her head down to her toes. She felt the life hammered out of her in relentless, excruciating blows. With her last ounce of strength, she threw her head from side to side and screamed.
“Hush, it will be over soon.” Mom stroked her hair.
But she couldn't stand it anymore. The pain was unbearable. Let me go, Mom, please ... let me die.
Everything went black.
Chapter 4
The Aftermath
Elizabeth opened her eyes, blinked multiple times, and looked around. She was propped against
a pole underneath the bleachers, an empty can next to her and another one in her hand.
Diet drinks. Her mom had made her drink some. She bolted upright, glancing to the left and to the right, frantically searching for her.
The contents of the can in her hand spilled from her jerky movements. She paused and studied the liquid that dribbled to her fingers. It looked familiar. She touched it cautiously.
She'd seen this before.
Then, recognition hit her. With a horrified shriek, she flung the can away. The contents splashed in a glorious crimson map on the pavement.
It is blood.
Minutes later, she found herself walking towards home on the side of the road. Her cell phone kept ringing, but she didn't want to talk to anyone. Dark clouds rolled in, bleak as her mood. The winds picked up and rain fell. She raised her face, welcoming the downpour, oblivious to the cold and thunder overhead. She wished lightning would strike her—because she hated what she had become.
By the time she reached the house, she was drenched to the bone. But before she had the chance to squeeze the doorknob, the door opened.
Mom stood with a large towel in her hand.
“I saw you!” Elizabeth pointed a forefinger at her.
Mom threw the towel at her and walked away.
“You were there!” Elizabeth trailed after her, drying her face and flinging the towel into a nearby chair. She followed her mom to the kitchen, where she sat at the table and started to read the day’s paper. Stung by her disregard, Elizabeth furiously rummaged in her backpack.
She slammed two empty cans on the table. “Don't deny it! You made me drink these!”
Mom gave her a disinterested shrug and went back to her paper.
“Why are you ignoring me?” Elizabeth trembled in aggravation. “Talk to me!”
“It's no use talking if you're not ready to listen,” Mom replied without bothering to look up.
Elizabeth plopped on the opposite chair and buried her face in her hands. Her life had fallen apart and her mother couldn't understand what she was going through! But she couldn't cry anymore. Crying never solved anything.
She took a deep breath. “I'm ready now,” she replied with all the calm she could muster.
“Good,” Mom put down the paper, “because I have no intention of wasting my time, if you're going to argue and refuse to accept the truth about who we are.”
