Some Feelings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Eliza and Damien are two very different people, whose paths meet but who never had enough time.

Submitted: February 09, 2017

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Submitted: February 09, 2017

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It all started when I was seventeen.
I was skipping school with my friends when I first saw him.
As I turned my face away from the brick wall, I saw a figure approaching my car. It was my first car, a red mini cooper my parents had bought me when I turned sixteen. The silhouette, who looked like a tall, muscular guy wearing a black hoodie was walking very fast, almost running toward Andria and our little group of friends.
I wasn’t anywhere near them. I was standing next to a tall, brick building, smoking a cigarette. My friends said they were bored and sick of the smoke, so they all went back to my car. Something about the man didn’t seem right. He took his hoodie off and looked around. He was about twenty four or twenty five. As he came closer to my friends, dark thoughts crossed my mind. I was afraid for my friends and didn’t even know why. None of them were looking at him. The man looked around the parking lot once again, it seemed as if he didn’t see me. Suddenly, he started sprinting toward Andria and the others.
“Andria!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, now being officially terrified by the mysterious guy. “Andria, watch out!” I started running to my car, all while fidgeting with my car keys.
The guy attacked Andria from behind. I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw blood squirting from my friend’s neck. All the others started running and screaming hysterically, some of them even tripping like one of those stupid horror movie characters. Only difference, this wasn’t a horror movie and the man was faster than every single one of my clumsy friends.
I wanted to scream and call for help, but my voice was lost. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, when ,out of nowhere, the man in the black hoodie appeared in front of me.
“I will save you for later, rebel.” He whispered darkly while coming even closer to me.
“I… I’m going to tell the cops everything. Y-you’re not getting away with this.” I said while trying and failing to keep my composure.
“Oh, but there are no bodies. No one is ever going to believe you. You’re just a crazy girl who thinks saw her friends get killed by some kind of animal, aren’t you?” He was looking deep into my eyes, his pupils so dilated, I couldn’t even see what color his eyes were.
“What are you even trying to do? I’m not crazy I saw you ripping my friends to shreds. Their bodies are right fricking there.” I wasn’t extremely scared of him anymore. He looked embarrassed and a little dumbfounded.
“It’s not working? You’re not… I don’t know… feeling anything?” He demanded a little astonished.
“What the actual fuck dude. You just killed my friends and now you’re trying to hypnotize me, or what?” At this point, this guy wasn’t frightening at all anymore. He was just straight up an idiot. My bitch-side was surfacing. I must’ve gone crazy, being angry and bitchy at a murderer.
“Dude, go fuck yourself.” I said harshly as I looked down at my still lit cigarette. There was no wind outside, so I figured it would still be able to give this psycho a little burn. Angrily, I kicked the idiot in the balls and stubbed my cigarette on his forehead.
“You are quite the feisty one.” He said as he got up from the ground. “I’m going to have to take care of you, you little brat.” With that, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me in a forced embrace. I was kicking and screaming, but my struggle was in vain.
“Let’s take you home, rebel.” He whispered softly into my ear, but something about his words was terrifying. Then, I fainted.

The moment I could see clearly again, I looked around. I was in a room, a kitchen to be more exact. The man in the black hoodie was not around, but I assumed I was in his house. I noticed I wasn’t tied up or anything of the sort, instead I was just sat down at an island counter.
“Good morning, rebel.” The man appeared in the kitchen. He didn’t seem menacing anymore. “So, I’ve done some test on you while you were asleep. Hope you don’t mind.” He said in a polite tone.
“Oh my goodness, you are a psycho.” I said, terrified. I picked up a butcher’s knife from the table and neared the doorway. “You’re going to let me go now, or else…”
“Blondie, that knife is not going to get you anywhere.” He stated calmly.
“My name is not Blondie. Stop calling me rebel, blondie or whatever sick shit you come up with.”
“Okay, then tell me your name, little smartass. And knives don’t exactly work on me, so don’t say I didn’t warn you when that thing breaks in half.”
“Why would I tell you my name?! You are a crazy murderer, and that is just based on what I’ve seen today.” I stated a little frustrated.
“Well, I have to feed from time to time, you know?” He was speaking in a bored tone, as if I was the silliest person alive for not knowing that.
I had to process everything before I could talk to him again. Bloody vampire. How do you even get that in your head. It made sense, though, based on what I knew about vampires.
“Anyway, don’t worry. You’re not going to be lunch or whatever. I don’t know how to break it to you, but you have some weird thing called multiple myeloma.” He said, a little embarrassed and awkwardly.
“Yeah, I know, you idiot.” I remarked in the bitchiest tone I could manage.
“Ah bloody hell, just get lost already, rebel. You’re making me hungry. You can find your own way out.” He sounded a little annoyed and pissed off. I got out of his house running like crazy.

 I never told anyone about him. I told the cops my friends were missing, that we were skipping school together, and when I came back from the bushes I went to the toilet in, all my friends were missing. The only trail they left were some blood stains on my car and near it.
I went to school as normal, got home like normal and lived my life like I did before the vampire episode happened.
If you’re wondering, yes. I do have a weird blood disease. It’s called multiple myeloma and it’s going to kill me. There is no cure, there are just methods to try and make me live longer. I’m not doing chemo. Instead, I have stem cell transplants. That’s supposed to help keep me alive for a little more. But at seventeen, I didn’t really care. I lived my life like a partially normal teenager and waited for something to go terribly wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to die. I just knew it will happen sooner rather than later and accepted it.
 One day, as I was walking home from school, I saw him again. The vampire dude. “How’s my favorite almost meal doing? Still alive, still not in a nuthouse I see. You didn’t tell the cops about me, did you?” He sounded rather amused, instead of anxious. Of course I didn’t tell the cops. Like he said, no one would’ve believed me and they would’ve probably locked me in a nuthouse too.
“Go away please. Thank you.” I stated sassily. “Why are you here anyway?”
“Well, I wanted to see if you’re still alive. I grew a little fond of your bitchiness, you know?” I rolled my eyes and walked a little faster, trying to ignore him. “Well that, and I did a little research. Your blood could help me get out in the sunlight. So, would you mind lending me a little? Just a teeny tiny bit, not nearly enough to kill you.”
“My blood is literally a death sentence. You want it, take it. Just don’t be all vampire-y and suck on my neck or some shit like that.” I said coldly.
“That won’t be needed. Follow me, you just became my blood bank.”
“Wait. If we’re doing this, I need to know your name.” I remarked in a curious tone.
“I’m Damien. And you are?” He demanded.
“I’m Eliza.”
 

 After that evening, I ended up spending more and more time with Damien. I would usually hang out at his place after school, each day giving him little vials of blood, just enough to keep him safe from the sunlight for a day or two. When I finished high school, he convinced me to let him be my roommate in college. I went to Stanford, basically because that’s the only ivy-league I applied to that accepted me.
 Damien and I were not really close, although we were friends. In the beginning, we thought of each other as mere acquaintances, but as I grew up and he stayed the same age, we both started changing. I was almost twenty three, when something bent.
 One day, as he was emptying a vial of blood, he asked me a very unexpected question.
“So,” he began, “Why do you never share personal stuff with me. We’ve known each other for almost five years now, yet you’re still distant.”
“Don’t act as if you really, actually, care about me. You want my blood, I’m able to help you. For the past five years, you never asked about personal stuff.” I stated a little frustrated.
“Don’t say that. Of course I care about you.” He spoke as if I was a porcelain doll, ready to fall on my face and crack at any moment.
“You want to know something personal? I hate hypocrisy. You never care, now you do. Do you need more blood or what?” I could see he was a little hurt by my words, but I didn’t care much. What he was doing was hurtful too, wanting to be my friend after five years of carelessness. That’s just not how things work for me.
“You think I don’t care about you?” He stood up from the yellow arm chair he was standing in, his slouching posture giving away his sadness and anger. “You think you’re just some bloody bank for me? You think, you were just an excuse for me to be slightly normal?” His voice was sad, although he sounded betrayed. “Guess what, lassie? I actually like you. I did actually care about you and grew more and more attached to you by the bloody day. It hurts that you never tell me anything, because I am just trying to be a friend. I like you and was starting to fall in love with you but I see now, you definitely don’t feel the same. I am just…” Then, everything went black. I fell on the soft rug in the living room and barely heard him desperately call my name.

 

I woke up in a hospital bed, Damien was sleeping in a chair right next to me. I gently squeezed his hand, that was resting on top of mine and woke him up as a result.
“Eliza! Bloody hell, don’t die when I’m confessing my undying love. That’s rather rude, don’t you think?” I wanted to respond but discovered I couldn’t. There was a tube down my throat. “breathing stuff”, Damien called it. Everything was hurting. Damien kept telling me how scared he had been and how useless he felt in the ambulance. Then, my eyelids started feeling heavier, and I told Damien, or rather gestured to him, that I was going to sleep. I heart a beeping sound next to my bed and felt Damien tighten his clutch on my hand. A bunch of nurses and doctors came running into the room and surrounding my bed. Damien was desperate, I could hear him, being pushed away from me by the nurses.
“I love you, Eliza. I’m so bloody sorry I never told you but I really do.” Damien’s words were the last thing I ever heard before leaving him behind and going toward that bright light in the corner of the room.


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