Dracula: New blood

Chapter one. To be or not to be.

My surroundings fail to ignite the slightest spark of interest within me. This European vacation my father promised feels like a distant mirage compared to my dreams. The only part of his promise he kept was flying first class. Picture the arduous journey of flying economy from Arizona to London, then to Amsterdam, then to Paris, and finally, to Bucharest. At least this much!

"Recharge your batteries in Europe during summer before job hunting," he said, presenting me with a myriad of brochures showcasing the various attractions scattered across the continent. If only I had listened to my intuition. What was I thinking when I accepted? I let out a heavy sigh, fully aware that I hadn't given it much thought at all.

"This is the most pleasant stop on our entire trip, right, Lina?" Kim asks, trying to infuse excitement into my dark mood. My fatigued eyes shift from the car window to her face. Her smile appears genuinely warm, which oddly darkens my mood further. How can someone so nice remain part of my family?

"Come on, get out of the car and stretch those dead legs. Another half an hour, and I would have let out a scream!" she remarks.

I doubt that. Kim exudes an aura of calm and serenity that can withstand even the hostility of my family-my own hostility.

"Come along, my dear," she says, her tone never showing impatience. "We have the entire castle to explore for three hours, all thanks to your father!"

The grimace etched on my face showed no signs of relenting, and she grasped its meaning with remarkable accuracy.

"If he could, he would be right here with us," she remarks, her smile offering a gentle reassurance as she reaches for my hand, coaxing me to step out of the car.

Though I would usually argue, the relentless ten days of flying, traveling, and sightseeing have sapped the last vestiges of energy from my weary body. My fingers instinctively intertwine with hers, seeking support as I take my unsteady first steps after enduring three exhaustive hours in the car. Her curious gaze stays on me for a few more seconds and it's clear she is surprised I'm still holding her hand when I usually resent any help. From anybody. Let alone hers!

Her cold fingers provide unexpected comfort, and a sense of reassurance passes through our connection. I have never felt this drain in my entire life!

"Do you think this is much better than the museum in Amsterdam?" she inquires in an amused voice, drawing my attention to the grand edifice towering before us. The car and the driver are now behind us, and my undivided focus rests solely on the old structure ahead.

"Royal castle, really?" I couldn't help but mock the building, which, though undoubtedly interesting and old, paled in comparison to the grandeur of the English and German castles I had admired in books. Or the Louvre we just visited.

"You weren't expecting another Louvre, were you?" Kim responds with a smile, gently squeezing my hand. She seemed delighted to have had the Louvre included in our European vacation, and even my father bothered to come with us for that visit. Looking back, it was the only time he came with us. In Amsterdam, he sent us off to "experience the freedom of the city," and I found myself dragging Kim to the Red Light District, though she didn't utter a single complaint. The memory of that excursion came with the faint taste of pot, which my stomach presently protests.

"This was the dwelling of a small regional leader," Kim continues, seemingly unaware of any comment on my part. "It's called Dracula's castle, but in reality, Dracula is merely a fictional character in a book..."

I drag my feet up the narrow street that gets to the entrance, still holding onto her hand. The book she is referring to is Dracula by Bram Stoker, a book I read in my adolescent times. Nothing memorable by any means!