Page and Blood

Chapter 1

Her breathing was now shallow and her knuckles, as well as the rest of the joints, hurt due to several hours of pounding and screaming at this huge door that never once gave a hint that it would or even had, in some point of its existence, open. She was cold and trembling and there was nothing she could do but hug herself and close her eyes. It was no use if she had them open any way. It was dark, and she can only see things when lightning strikes. And they were not very nice. Her tears mixed with the rain water, spattering on her face. It was hard to tell if she was crying or just plain closing her eyes. But she was crying alright. She cried because she was cold, hungry and scared. But more than that, she cried because she just had enough for one day.

“I can’t believe you spent, oh’ I’m sorry, rather wasted an entire school year writing this thing.” The thing slammed on the table. She flinched and resisted the urge to cry.

It was the work of her life, well, maybe just her college senior year, but the point was, she labored her ass off that thing. It made her say no to parties, no to camping, even hiking, no to alcohol, no to dating and even no to sleep. To call it a thing was an insult she just could not take.

“It’s a great story.” was all she could come up with.

“Okay,” he said. “Explain how I and the rest of the editors say its crap?”

Since she shared her enthusiasm about writing novels, Professor James, her uncle and her Literary and Arts adviser, beamed and shared his enthusiasm even a bit more than hers. But when she mentioned what the novel was about, instantly, his expression turned sour.

She sighed and stared down at the thing she spent, or rather, wastedall she’s got. And before she knew it, she was standing in front of the entire panel, all eyes on her.

She stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the thing that she held tightly to her chest. It lasted for quite some time until, finally, one of the editors interrupted.

“Miss Page, if you have nothing--”

“The book,” she said at last, “is a true story.”

The panel looked horrified.

“I mean, it’s inspired by a true story.” she said. “It relates to s-s-something real.”

The panel shot questioning looks, eyebrows crossed, lips twitched and foreheads wrinkled.

“I’m sorry.” she mumbled shaking her head, faking a laugh. “What I really mean is, um, it can happen to anyone.” she said as if it really was a fact.

There was a second, or seconds, no, minutes of silence.

“Falling in love with a VAMPIRE,” one of the editors exclaimed sarcastically, “can happen to anyone?”

She bit her lips, knuckles gone white gripping the thing.

“Point is,” she said raising both her hands in protest causing the thing to fell with detached pages scattered on the floor.

She cautiously bent her legs, knees close to her chin, and gathered the pieces. “The story, if you read it carefully, which of course I’m very sure you had, has an essence, that is--” she continued without looking up. “That is--” she paused while trying to pick the last page that keep on slipping from her fingers.

 “that is--” she just can’t reach it.

 “that is--” she took one step closer extended her arms. Got it!

“That is enough Miss Page.”

Before she knew it, she was standing in front of a huge wooden door that only divine intervention could have it opened for her.