Welcome to the Shit Show

Chapter 11

Olivia

I have always loved the myriad of scents that naturally occur in the woods. Foxes are spicier than squirrels, moose smell like mud puddles, and I despise the scent of anything that can be found rotting on the side of the road. Father said he once met a man that reeked of that smell. He described it as a scent that was ingrained in the man's flesh. Almost as if he was rotting from the inside.

From a young age I hoped to never encounter such a person, but now I smile at the idea of meeting Juniper again. What a funny thing to name someone. I suppose it's better than just naming someone after the month of June, and much more creative too. I let all the colorful scents of the forest cleanse my nose of the putrid scent of rot that had come from a potential new friend. I say potential because I could clearly tell she wanted to kill me. Which, to be fair, I deserved a little. It's not my fault pissing her off is so easy.

Speeding through the forest in the late afternoon sun was a very good way to ease the mountain of boredom I have been climbing since the beginning of summer. But this new person, Juniper, seems like a lot of fun. I was intrigued the moment my brother, Mathew, told me about how a doctor friend of his had to cut a wad of gum out of a guy's throat. Imagine his surprise when the first thing he writes out is 'IM GOING TO KILL THAT BITCH JUNIPER' on a hospital napkin. Then Proceeded to spell out a ton of misspelled curse words. Good to see the American education system fail today's youth once again. Then proceeded to file a police report stating she had lodged the gum in his throat on purpose to kill him.

I can't imagine how a tiny thing like her could have gotten gum stuck in his throat, and not to mention why, but watching her do that to him is something I would pay to see. She was like a feisty firecracker trapped in a small shell, and I wanted to watch her explode. Finding someone like that was hard as a vampire. Oftentimes we have to tone ourselves down to avoid getting carried away and accidentally hurting someone. It made being a pansexual really frustrating because I can fuck pretty much whoever I want, but I have to fake it 80% of the time so that I won't get too into it and use my strength to hurt a non-vampire partner. I learned that the hard way when I gave a normal guy head and ended up tearing off some of his hardware. Fortunately I have two very protective older brothers that always help me fix my screw-ups.

Alex, the oldest, is an overachiever and a lawyer to boot. Just like our father. While Mathew, the middle child, chose the righteous path of medicine. And I-- chose to do whatever was required of me. Which isn't much when compared to my brothers, but Father never really had a problem with that, and I enjoyed being flexible, in more ways than one.

I smiled at the bright golden light filtering through the canopy as I sped along the forest floor. I could go straight home, but that would be a waste of a perfect afternoon. Clear skies and endless miles of trees to get lost in, almost nothing could ruin this--

There was a small rustle coming from a few feet ahead. There was no time to stop as my feet slid on the pine needles that lined the ground. Something unseen knocked into my legs causing me to trip and go flying through the underbrush ahead. The world spun as I was thrown head-over-heels. I slammed into something hard with my right leg causing me to go tumbling in a slightly different direction. I rolled to a stop and immediately got to my knees, ignoring the strain it put on my shaking muscles.

Glancing between the trees there was nothing that could have caused my unfortunate spill.

I shook off the dusting of leaves that peppered my clothes, glancing at the small cuts decorating my hands. There were at least a dozen on each hand. The wrist cuffs of my shirt had been torn open, the button on the left hanging by a thread while the other was MIA. I can only imagine what my hair must look like. Hopefully the braid had prevented too much damage. Looking down at my pants revealed a horrifying bloody sight. Both my knees were scraped raw. The flesh of my right thigh was hanging off in a thick slab of skin and muscle tissue.

I stared at it for a little too long trying to assess the extent of the injury. The strangest part was, I couldn't feel it at all. There was no pain as I tugged softly at the edge of my eviscerated flesh. Nor when I dug my hand into the would to pick out the twigs I could feel when I flexed the still-attached muscles in my leg. I could feel those, but not any pain. My eyes turned back to where I had fallen. There was a jagged rock poking out of the ground. It was covered in blood I knew could only be mine. There was a lot more than Mattew would probably have liked.

Maybe I will go home now after all.

Turning, I tested my injured leg with a small tentative step. Then another. And another. And suddenly I was running. Running with the flesh of my leg flapping in the wind like a dog's ears when they stick their head out a car window.

I felt good. Too good. Not like I had just sustained a debilitating injury or anything. It was like I was made of clouds. I was floating. No, I was flying. And I flew aaaaaaaaalllllllllll the way home.

Home was an unfortunate gothic concoction of wood and art deco, like the Victorian era had vomited velvet curtains and brocade fabric all over the four-story structure. Huge, curtained windows lined alost every story, with cute cookie cutter trim lining each. The outside was painted a depressing shade of gloomy black. The kind with more brown than blue mixed into the pigment. It caused the summers at home to be uncomfortably sweaty.

I flew through the front door, not even pausing to close the door behind me as I skidded to a stop in the foyer. There was a delightful giggle coming from somewhere in the room, but I didn't much care. The depressing interior did nothing to dampen my stellar mood. Not even Alex appearing in the doorway and immediately choking on his drink were enough to stop my glow.

Hard hands gripped my shoulders firmly as my eldest brother's face slid into view. Has he always been this tall? I pity him if he chooses a short girlfriend. Tension headaches are a bitch to get rid of.

He was shaking me now. I hadn't been listening to whatever he was saying.

"Livia can you hear me? What happened to you?" His face was vibrating. Or maybe I was shaking. I couldn't really tell anymore.

Suddenly there was another pair of hands, only these were gripping me from behind. I could smell Ash's familiar scent as they talked with Alex over my head.

The giggling was mostly drowning out their angry voices so I was having a hard time discerning what they were so upset about.

They seemed to come to some sort of conclusion as I was roughly pushed and pulled to sit in a nearby armchair. I immediately tried to get up, but their hands kept me in place.

I looked up at Alex exasperated. "What are you doing? You know Dad doesn't like it when we get blood on the furniture"

It was his turn to look at me like I was the crazy one. "To hell with the furniture Liv, you're injured." I glanced back down at my leg which was still hanging off where it was supposed to be. I let out a soft 'oh'. Turning back to my brother I tried to explain.

"It's ok Lex I can't feel it, and I already dug out the debris. It's fine" I said with a smile. He looked at me like I had suggested we go skinny dipping in Chernobyl. He had a cellphone held up to one ear.

He was probably calling Mat.

"Yeah, did you hear that? That was Liv. Something is really wrong with her right now. She's hurt, and her eyes are just-" I didn't stick around to listen. I shook off Ash's hands and sprinted up the stairs to my room.

I went straight to the big vanity table mirror. It was the first time I had seen myself since the fall. My eyes were two huge black pools, the usual dark green was completely hidden by the inky swirl of my over expanded pupils. I had multiple leaves and twigs poking out of my ruined braid. There were cuts along my neck and chin. Beads of coagulating blood painted my face from a bad cut that lashed from the left corner of my mouth, down to the tip of my chin. There was also a small rivulet of blood coming from my nose, but it hadn't gotten very far before it stopped.

The giggling was back in full force. I glanced back at the room to see it was still empty. I could hear voices frantic coming from outside, but the raucous laughter was clearly coming from in here. I turned back to the mirror and realized it was me.

I was laughing so hard my face was creased into the widest smile I had ever seen on myself, but I couldn't feel alarmed.

I still feel like flying.

I feel great.