Vampire Sunrise

Broken Hearted

I didn't feel sleepy but dozed off while I sat on the canopy-covered wrought iron bench. The last thing I remembered was reaching under my shirt and feeling the size of my rot spot. Maybe I passed out from shock, but who knows anything at this point.

Hazy clouds roamed sluggishly through the sky, with jet trails overlapping them. The sunset cast a brilliant orange color from the horizon's edge. I doubted there were more than a few minutes of sunlight left.

Jackson Square at dusk was sinister. Flickering lights danced inside historic lanterns, brushing shadows onto alleys and shop fronts. New shadows grew and merged, becoming a blanket of darkness. Masonry stones and wrought iron fences became barren and hostile instead of friendly and charming. Wisps of wind danced about playing in the night, encircling those brave enough to venture out.

A faint whipping call from a common nighthawk empowered by the growing moonlight captured the mood best. With most people indoors, only faint echoes littered the voided grounds and alleyways. I sat alone, realizing I had never been on the streets of New Orleans after dark.

It was just after dinner, and distinct scent patterns lingered that I recognized clearly. The scents didn't compel me to eat but instead gave me information. I had no trouble breaking apart the ingredients used in more complex aromas but didn't understand why. Perhaps that part of my brain was dying.

I noticed something different about my vision. Night had fallen, but my eyes seemed to adjust to the light differences much more thoroughly. I had no trouble seeing deeply into the darkest alleys.

I wondered if these changes were symptoms of how death started. Were my final moments going to be like a massive drug high where my brain did its best to survive while the killing cancer and virus combo finished me?

I couldn't sit here all night and worry; I had to find something for Buddy to eat. With no money, scavenging was my best option. Buddy didn't care about where his food came from and wasn't a picky eater. Anything would do.

I stood up from my bench and noticed it took little to no effort. I expected my butt to hurt from sitting on the bench for so long, but it didn't. I also thought I'd be sunburned on some part of my body, even with the red material partially overhead shielding me, but I wasn't in pain.

I made my way to the alley beside Charley's. Charley's had two dumpsters outback. I had eaten from the dumpster once before, and it was great southern comfort food, so buddy would be sure to love it.

I lifted the dumpster lid and immediately saw a to-go container. It had a half-eaten salmon that rested on a bed of rice inside the to-go container; Buddy would be insanely happy with this. Thrilled at the find, I pulled the container out and dropped the dumpster lid.

I was eight blocks from my apartment, and the night had collapsed entirely around me, but shockingly it could have been four in the afternoon. What was going on with my eyes?

Chester and Christina were not out this late, at least not on Decatur Street. After about fifteen minutes of walking, I was in front of the side entrance to the blood bank apartments. The building had a designated side door we used when the blood bank was closed.

I walked upstairs to my apartment and found Buddy curled up next to the door just as expected. He meowed and did a cat stretch while I crossed the landing to open my door. Once inside, I placed the dumpster loot on the floor.

"Dinner time, Buddy. I promised food; here it is, sorry I'm a little late." I threw my door key on the kitchen counter and walked toward the bedroom.

I sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled my hands through my hair. What was going on with me? Why did I not feel like I was dying? Stressed, I closed my eyes then blew out a deep breath. I opened my eyes and pulled my hands away from my head.