Vampire Hunters- Encounter

Vampire Hunters- Encounter (chapter 2)

Authors Note: Just a quick note, each chapter will be told by the point of view of one of the twins. You will know what chapter belongs to who. Decided to give everyone an early glimpse to chapter 2 and get to know Calvin's twin brother. Enjoy!!

Chapter Two

Caleb

“Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery.”

                 (Winston Churhill.)

I was again awoken by the merciless, unrelenting rays of the sun. Its bright beams of sunlight contradicted the mood I always awoke with. I arose from the massive king sized bed and looked around at my mother’s touch of perfection, interior designing was her call. My room was designed in a way that everything within it flawlessly accented the other decorations. The mahogany four poster bed was accented by the light beige colored carpet it stood upon. The light wall color was accented by the slightly darker massive curtains that betrayed me every morning by letting the light in. The vanity mirror was positioned just so that I could look at myself from any location in the room, though I had argued to mother that I didn't need a vanity mirror. Mother replied by saying that one had to admire and perfect their external beauty to therefore improve their internal beauty, mother was externally beautiful but internally she had much to work on. Rooms are meant to portray what a person is like, this room couldn't have been more wrong about me. I walked to the closet, which could have been used as a spare bedroom, and picked out a t-shirt and pair of jeans at random, pulled them on and stepped out the door.

The scene outside was about as, if not, as perfectly designed as my room. Railing alongside the hallway led the eye to the winding staircase that led downstairs which branched out to the kitchen, living room, and main entrance. Once in the kitchen the smell of a wonderfully cooked breakfast greeted my senses. Joyce, the house maid, was the best cook and an even better person; honestly I didn't know how she was able to stand my mother all day. They say patience is a virtue so Joyce must be highly virtuous.

My mother walked into the kitchen nose high up in the air as always, if it had happened to rain just then she would have surely drowned. She threw Joyce her customary look of disappointment mingled with disgust and to me a dazzling smile, corrected by means of an orthodontist. She went to her "special cabinet" the morning routine, and poured herself a drink of scotch, father hadn't come home last night apparently. Father had put it in his head that he and mother had an open marriage. Daily he would come by with many younger female friends, while mother would lock herself upstairs with whatever drink she could get her hands around. Our life of luxury wasn't as perfect as the house we lived in; mother was a border-line alcoholic who refuted any claims about her problem, like all alcoholics, she was in denial. Father was an open man, intrigued by the prospect of young beautiful women even if they happened to be my age. Through the constant bickering and fighting, I figured a nasty divorce was at hand but I knew mother cared too much about her reputation to ruin it with such a calamity. I stood from the table, took my plate and was about to place it on the marble counter top...mistake number one.

"Caleb, sweetie, don't lower yourself to their standards, that's why Joyce is here." my mother knew the best way to ruin a seemingly perfect morning and how to bring a person’s self esteem down.

She snapped her fingers and Joyce took the plate out of my hands and began washing it. My mother treated all people that weren't to her standards as a waste of space and time. If she could do away with Joyce and keep the house in its constant perfect state, which was thanks to Joyce, she wouldn't hesitate to give her the boot. School started tomorrow, for the last time, senior year wasn't exactly what I had been looking forward to. By now I thought that I'd have best friends that would know the real me, friends that I could talk to about my personal issues. The friends I now had could care less about my problems, they were to my mother’s standards but not to mine. They were all posers, one minute they could be all smiles, hugs and kisses with you, the next they could make your life a living hell. I had my social status to be grateful for, most kids at school would give away their happiness to be in my shoes. Little did they know that happiness might just be asking price. With all the constant fake smiles, snooty comments and materialistic people that I was associated with, I couldn't help but to pick up on their mannerisms. I could flash the most wow-doesn't-he-look-happy-smile that you ever did see when in truth the smile was a facade, a mask simply put on to please. My mother constantly reminds me that money and good looks can get you anywhere in life. If what she says proves true then I'll get pretty far with my green eyes, dark hair, toned physique, chiseled good looks, pale complexion and enough money to throw around. I could easily fit into any clothing catalogue and would most likely be accepted with arms spread wide. The front door slammed signaling father’s arrival; let the customary morning spectacle begin. Mother stormed out of the kitchen and headed to the main entrance, the scotch hadn't taken its toll on her yet but a few more shots and standing was a thing of the past.