One Last Glimpse

“You do not possess the ability to change what you are. You know what you have become and what you shall continue to be.” The words slipped like silk through his full lips. Had they not been filled with so much damnation, they would have sounded comforting.

“Stay away from me, you know nothing” I spit back at him. I crouched lower to the ground as if to spring. My senses picked up his slight movement. He was preparing himself, should I attack. All completely indiscernible to the human eye. But my senses weren’t human anymore, were they?

“You must understand, my knowledge surpasses all that you think you know.” He countered. “I do not wish to make things difficult, but I shall if you force me.” This time his movement was not in defense, but with determination as he moved closer to my crouching form.

“Stay away” I moaned. It was too late. He was already there beside me. His arms encircling me and pulling me up to meet his gaze. Fire blazed there and reached out to consume me. How could his eyes be that color? The auburn color of smoldering embers reaching out and pulling me in. My thoughts were removed with only the longing for more. Abruptly the fire was gone, replaced with an oily darkness that caught my gaze and sucked what little I had left, in my vulnerability. The embers had been put out, quickly and with finality. Gasping, I wrenched myself free and slumped down to the cold floor. “Please, just leave me.” My voice cracked in my attempt to sound too strong for what I felt inside.

“You must understand” he whispered softly.

I couldn’t help but peer up at him, even with the intense fear gnawing at my conscience. What if you see that complete black space that resides in his eyes? But it was gone now. It had served its purpose. His eyes appeared soft and searching, with just a hint of the red embers touching the corners.

“I do understand. Please just let me go. I will only stay a short while. It is my choice to make.” My words rushed out quickly in an attempt to make my plea before his inevitable denial prevented me from finishing. I looked down then, as I couldn’t bear to look into his eyes for too long. There was too much risk. Looking into those eyes too long would mean total surrender or worse, total emptiness. My fingers absently ran along the cool tiles of the floor. They traced the grout lines until they met up and made the journey over and over in the same square pattern. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat softly that I realized I had worn the grout away and the tile was wobbling with my tracing fingertips. I frowned and picked the tile up, dirt and sand falling away as I lifted it up to pear at it’s broken edges. “This is like me” I said absently. “Uprooted and no-longer secured to anything solid” I sighed deeply and put the tile back in it’s previous spot. It didn’t look like it fit anymore. With anger I slammed my fist down to make it fit. A spray of mortar, stone and dirt bounced off the wall and back on my lap. The tile was gone.
“Your drama is most amusing, if only slightly painful to watch.” He commented dryly.

“I’m going. I’m going and you can try and stop me. You’ll hurt me, that I know. But I’m going.” I stared at him now, squarely and challenging. He said nothing. The embers continued to burn without change. “I am going.” I said louder this time. “If I don’t, I will be nothing more than the broken remains of this tile scattered around my feet.”

The embers grew then quickly, yet I did not look away. They ebbed just before I lost myself and he stepped back. “You have no right to ask such things.” He smoothly reminded me.

Behind me I heard and without looking, saw a rat scurry across the cold floor. It stopped abruptly as it sensed danger, it’s nose twitching nervously as it tried to pinpoint the source of possible harm. I ignored the rapid heartbeat, so small, yet still seducing in it’s own simplicity. I sighed again and brought my attention back to him.

“I have no right it seems, for anything.” I admitted. “I only ask you just this once.” With that honestly out, I hung my head in defeat.

He reached forward then and lightly ran his finger along my hairline and lightly tipped my chin up level with his. “Your defiance is not painful, but more than I can stand.” he whispered, leaning towards me now. I could not retreat; I was not able to, as his eyes held me. But then he quickly diverted them and as he moved closer did not meet my gaze again. He was at least compassionate enough for that. I felt him near my throat now and shuddered with anticipation. He spread his lips and with a painful softness ran his teeth along my throat. I shuddered and moved closer to him, wanting him to look into my eyes and carry me away. He did not meet my searching eyes, but instead whispered so slowly into my ear “You…May…Go”

I exploded away from him then, flying to my destination. The memory of his words like a shadow chasing me through the night. In mere seconds I arrived. It seemed as though the ordeal to get here was days ago, if not just seconds. But I was here. I came to a stop on the wet grass, my senses keen and heightened by weary anticipation. There was no outside light on but gladly there was the soft glow of lights in several rooms in the 2-story house that loomed before me. It didn’t feel welcoming to me.

There was no need for stealth, yet I cautiously approached the forbidding home. My shadow was the only thing that they could have glimpsed and then only if they were looking directly at where I might have been moving. But then again, as I had already quickly learned, the human mind cannot comprehend and therefore, does not see.

Knowing what I would see, I peered into the living room. The recliner was moved closer to the television than usual. One arm dangled over the corner of the chair, the other was splayed across his chest, which rose evenly and deeply with alcohol induced sleep. His mouth gaped open and moved in unison with his snoring. The paper and what appeared to be bills or junk mail lay scattered at his feet and against his work boots. I wondered when this pattern would ever change, not that it had been much different…before.

Moving quickly to the upper floor, my destination, I perched next to the window. Hesitantly I allowed myself to peer around the corner into her room. As I suspected, she was there, lying sideways across her bed. Her blonde hair was spilling loosely around her head, hiding her face from me. I watched her breathing, with the jerky raged breathing that could only mean one thing. She was crying and she confirmed this as she lifted her head and swung her legs around to the floor. She bowed her head and hugged something close to her chest then. I felt the pain tear at me, ripping relentlessly though my chest, my head and into my arms. I going to fall or scream and either would not be a good idea. I closed my eyes tightly and forced myself to focus…to see. Hissing quietly, I brought myself back and held tightly to the side of the house in relief. Slowly I peered back into the bedroom, just as she allowed her arms to fall onto her lap, the frame cradled there between her splayed fingers. As I watched, my jar firmly clenched from the strain of maintaining control, she traced her finger carefully around the silver jeweled frame over and over in delicate little patterns. Her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably and with that she hitched into a hard sob. A sound of pure anguish escaped her lips. As the sound tore through me and my grip faltered, she tossed the frame onto the bed and swiftly ran from the room. I heard the bathroom door slam moments later and the sound of water running.

The open doorway loomed empty for what seemed like an eternity, but she disappointed me and did not return. She was bathing now, trying to calm herself. My eyes left the doorway to return to her bed. Her polka-dot comforter was neatly made and complimented her collage of brightly colored posters and fashion icons plastered across her turquoise walls. I remembered back to the day she had begged to paint her walls that hideously bright bluish-green color. She had won of course…as teenagers often do.

My eyes scanned over all this quickly and inevitably came to rest on what I could not continue to avoid. The silver frame did not land facedown, for I was not intended to be granted any leniency this night. As tears began to run down my own eyes, I was not granted any leniency of clouded vision, for even though my tears no longer ran clear, but with crimson edges of embers, I continued to see clearly. I wished they had blinded me for the smiling faces that looked up and out at me from that frame only caused me to die again. She was there and beside her was her twin of 25 years her senior. The frame proudly announced in bright letters made from various jewels, “Happy Mothers Day”

Turning from the window then, I moaned the sound of anguish that I had only just heard. Turning from my face in the frame that would never be. Turning from the pain of a daughter that could never be held. Turning from what was and what had been and what could never be given back.

Turning back to the only one that knew. The only one that could be. And he was there, waiting…his eyes flickering with embers that matched my own.

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Tags:

loss and vampire