LINGR

[Thirteen] Coming Out to My Parents... as a Vampire

CW: coming out

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The rest of the week, I eagerly answer messages from Neil, and he responds back seemingly enthusiastically. It never fails to bring a smile to my face: a real, live human (witch) wants something to do with me. And he's cool. I'm over the moon about it.

That said, my body quivers with more changes every passing day. The bags under my eyes are darkening, and I don't believe it's from my general depression-insomnia combo I had prior to becoming a vampire. It looks permanent, and no amount of cover-up helps do away with it. My fangs also have noticeably grown longer, if that is even possible. It's hard to hide them behind my lips, and I wonder how other vamps do it. I make a mental note to ask Abi that as I finger-comb through my dark brown hair in the mirror.

Abi...

My fingers falter, sticking above a knot. I wince, trying to pull through it, but damn. I haven't seen Abi since before the whole Vampires Anonymous experience. Sure, we've texted back and forth since then, but I can't help but wonder if she's avoiding me. What did happen to Abi's family and friends after she got turned? It's not my business, and Abi will tell me in her own time. Still, the prickle of curiosity almost gets me to do another Google search, but I refrain from doing so. I don't want to be a weird, stalkerish fledgling following her around like a baby chick. She was right to get angry with me for going behind her back, and I need to do better as her friend, if I really do care about her.

Then, I decide to do something stupid. After tearing my finger through my hair-knot, I pick up my phone. There is a LINGR notification, but—for once—I ignore it. (Hold your applause.) Instead, I go to the dial pad, hesitating, my fingers trembling above the buttons.

I don't know if I can do it. I'm scared. I fucked up so much of my life before that I'm going to have to rebuild, not just jump back into the swing of things, and that's terrifying. I wish I could go back to before my attack, discover the Underworld as a mortal human, and not have a sick desire for blood.

What about Neil? Priscilla? Abi?

It's with Abi's face in mind that I grit my teeth. Do it, Vic.

Dialing that number comes to me more easily than it should; I guess I've known it since my mom drilled it into me when I started riding my bike around the block by myself as a kid. I never saved Mom and Dad's landline nor cell phone numbers into my phone because, well, I never thought I'd see them again. I'd taken care to avoid my hometown.

My pale porcelain thumb hovers over the green call button, but then I press it. Another moment passes where I believe if my heart could thump erratically, it would. Sadly, it stays still—a first—but my mind whirs, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I pull the phone to my ear. The incessant ringing, over and over, and then I remember —

"Hello?"

My eyes widen. It's her. She sounds ragged and worn, scratchy.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Who's calling?"

Her voice sounds the same tonally, and through her exhaustion and grief I can define what makes her voice and presence: notes of a warm cello ringing through the room, the beep of the oven timer, her giant bag of lawn weeds, and—

"This isn't funny. Don't call again!"

"W-wait!" I shriek. I gulp: am I really going to do this? I might give her a heart attack, and that's the last thing I want. I consider hanging up, but I'm too late.

She gasps. "W-who is this?! What joke are you playing on me?"

"M-Mom... it's me... it's Vic."

There is a silence punctuated by one sharp sob on her end. "Whoever this is, this is so cruel to play such a trick on us. How do you know us? How do you know our loss? Leave us alone."