Who Said 'Vampires Will Never Hurt You?' ((MCR))

They Only Come Out At Night

Gwindolyne;

"Gwin, get your lazy ass up! We have to leave! Now!" I groaned and put my fluffy new pillow over my face. Asphyxiation, please hurry up.

I didn't want to leave. I was so tired. But I was already dressed. And we had to go to this interview for a college for me. I was driving myself. I was 22 years old, I didn't need my bitchy little Mommy escorting me everywhere.

"Fine! I'm up! This is my house, not yours! Don't tell me what to do you fucking bitch!" I screamed back at her. I heard my father gasp at my language. My parents never said anything worse than 'hell,' 'ass,' and 'damn.'

I held in a laugh as I climbed out of bed and walked over to my vanity table and grabbed my hair brush. I worked it through the tangles and knots, and finally, my long, black hair was straight again. I never had to worry about frizzes and flyaways. It always stayed flat and flawless once I brushed it. I don't know how it works. My snow-white skin seemed translucent in the afternoon light, and I liked it.

"Gwin, come on! We have to leave RIGHT NOW!" I sighed under my breath. I shouted back an 'Alright, fine, dammit!' and grabbed my keys off the rack by the door to my room.

I ran down the stairs and out the front door to my car and started it, listening to the engine. It was calming. I pulled a My Chemical Romance CD out of the sleeve and slipped it into the CD player built into my old ford truck. As soon as Gerard's voice started streaming out of the speakers with I'm Not Okay (I Promise), I told myself it was going to go fine. After about getting halfway there, I flipped on the radio.

"Alright, whoever can guess what's true about vampires will win a backstage pass and a free ticket to a My Chemical Romance concert, right here in New Jersey!" I gasped. I had tuned into a radio contest.

The man said the number and I dialed in immediately, trying to get through while they played My Chem songs. I finally got through and the man asked me the question. I answered.

"They only come out at night!" I answered excitedly. The man congratulated me and asked my name.

"My name is Gwindolyne," I told him. He congratulated me again.

"Well congratulations, Gwindolyne, you've just won a backstage pass and a free ticket to the My Chemical Romance concert!" I thanked him and hung up.

The radio took a break from playing the songs and went through some of the answers. I could tell all the girls who answered were Twi-hards, because some of the answers I heard were "They sparkle" and "They don't have to eat people." Finally the radio man, whose name was Jimmy, played back my answer. I sounded giddy, and when Jimmy said my answer was correct, I sounded even more silly. But when Jimmy told me where I could pick up my ticket from the radio, I started crying.

"Oh shit, now my makeup's running..." I muttered to myself. I had a fucking interview!

I didn't care about the interview anymore. I drove to the radio station and sat in the parking lot, wiping off my streaming mascara. I walked into the building and the woman at the front desk greeted me warmly.

"You must be Gwindolyne, aren't you?" she asked sweetly. I nodded and she handed me my winning and I thanked her.

On my way out, I asked her to thank Jimmy for me. She told me she would, and I walked out and back to my car. The concert wasn't for three days, but I didn't care. I was still on Cloud 9 just too much to care. I was finally going to see my favorite band play!