Breaking Through

Aaron

Waking up in a strange place is disorienting, especially when you are used to the security of a pimped out dome. So, waking up with blinding lights, an IV in your arm, a headache, muscle pains, the poignant smell of death, and police officers surrounding you is excruciatingly disorienting. I began to find myself immersed in panic. The monitor beside me mimicked my erratic heart. A nurse pushed her way through the officers and immediately tried to calm me down. She started yelling at the officers and forced them out the room. But, after the horde of blue uniforms filed out, my heart dropped. There he was. The linebacker.

I didn't know what to say. The nurse tried to get my attention as I forced myself up. She was adamant about me keeping in the IV, and I wasn't going to argue if that's what it took for her to leave me be. I slowly made my way over to him and sat down, the room becoming deathly quiet.

"He's stable for now.. But he's in a coma... He can't breath without a respirator for now... And if he doesn't wake up or improve soon..." The nurse whispered.

She came and stood beside me, trying to usher me away, I couldn't leave him. For some unknown reason, I felt that if I allowed myself to leave, I was allowing him to die. It was all my fault anyway. If I hadn't rebuked him, if I hadn't been such a total bitch, maybe he wouldn't have been in the woods. I slowly sat down in the chair next to him, waving the woman that was still clinging to my arm away. She sighed and left, returning shortly with a tray for me. She simply sat it on the closest table and told me that both of our families were here. I don't remember saying anything, but the room seemed to suddenly be bursting with crying people. The majority of them were here for him, and I was happy that so many people cared for him. I looked to the corner of the room near the door. My father was there, seemingly consoling the step-monster.  She was crying, but I knew it was fake. She couldn't stand it when I was given any attention from him. She was the one that actually started Miranda on her "I hate Annabeth" tirade. Miranda just gave me a half-wave and rolled her eyes at her mother, even she knew it was fake.
Abruptly, I was pushed from my chair beside Him. I stared up dumbly at the younger version of Him, his brother-who was only a year behind us in school, while he screamed.
"What did you do?! This is your fault, you freak! My brother is in a fucking coma because HE. LIKED. YOU!"

His chest heaved and he angrily wiped tears from his face before allowing people to tow him away. I stayed in my position on the floor, ignoring the nurse, ignoring everyone until the room was silent again. He was right, it was my fault. His brother, a linebacker, was only at the party to see me. Not only did I shoot him down, I got him put in a coma. Tears of guilt pour from my face as my body is wracked with pain. Pain. It's all that I cause, sticking to me like a second skin.
I hiccup as I crawl back into the chair, wanting nothing more than to show Him how sorry I am. I want him to wake up, I want him to live the life he was supposed to, I want him to like someone else, I want him to run as far as he can from me. But for now, I'll settle for laying my head on his bed and taking a nap.

Click click click click.
A sound stirs me from my sleep, my body lethargic as my mind attempts to remain alert. But whispers force my eyes open and they flick to the door, waiting.

"What are you doing here, dog? Shouldn't you be playing fetch with the Master?"

A low growl barely reaches my ears.

"Look, We can handle this, as we should've done in the first place. Remember that we are cleaning up your mess in the first place." A different voice cut in this time.

Another low growl reverberates before a steady click trails off.

Tsk tsk tsk
"Eavesdropping on your killers? That's not very nice" a voice whispers, his breath fanning my neck.

I open my mouth to scream, but his hand covers my throat, cutting off my air supply for a second.

"Relax" he says, caressing my cheek and acting like he didn't just have his hand on my throat.

I sit straight, not at all comfortable with how this man asserts himself. However, sitting straight only made the situation worse. He draped his arms around me, his head nuzzling my neck.

"I'll give you a choice: come with me and live, or stay and die a gruesome death."

My heart raced at the thought of having a chance, but I could never leave Him. I looked at Him, steeling my resolve.

"I can't leave him."

"So... You'll die to protect a dying boy. Is he that important?" He asked, trailing his fingers along my arms.

"He's here because of me. I couldn't live with myself if I abandoned him."

The man hummed, stepping away from me. I relaxed, breathing easier with space. The two men outside were still talking, but I knew it wouldn't be long until they came through. The man inside walked around Him.

"Aaron Rodgers" he read off of the charts on the other bed stand.

(Mental note: remember to actually look for things like NAMES. Ugh, why did I not think of that sooner?)

The man hummed again, leaning over Aaron. I took the time to notice what little I could see in the dark. He was tall, a little bit on the lean side.

"I can't take him with us... We don't have the resources to keep him alive." And with that said, he punctured the respirator coming from Aaron's throat.

Monitors started fritzing out, alarms went off as his heartbeat flatlined, and I was jerked into the arms of the man as darkness consumed my vision and a chill ran through me.

The next second I realized that I was in a different room and that the man just killed Aaron.

"Murderer! You hellish fiend! You imp! You savage and cruel man!" I cried as I beat his chest mercilessly.

He just sat there, completely unfazed as I was starting to wonder if I cracked my knuckles on his ribs.

"Quite the feisty one, isn't she? Tell me, did you bring her for a snack or for business?" A light, airy voice twinkled.

I spun around to see a suave woman dressed in a pink Victorian dress, surrounded by casually dressed, but equally attractive, women.

"Business, Margarett, business." He replied as he towed my struggling figure into yet another room.

"Where even is this? And who was she?! How did we get here?!" I screeched to no avail.

I opened my mouth to scream at him some more, but he slapped me.

"Stop this childish tirade and let me explain myself." 

Flabbergasted, I closed my mouth and seethed.

"Yes, I killed him. BUT, his body will remain more or less intact. This way the hospital can say that his death was from faulty equipment. It makes it easier on all of us if an official death certificate is made. That way when I turn him, there is no one looking for him."

"Turn him? Turn him into what?! He's dead!"

"Yes and so am I!" He huffed.

"You're not dead. See, there's...." I said as I placed my hand above his heart.

"No heartbeat" I stammered.

He smiled, the cruel humor forcing its way to his face.

"I'm a vampire"