Blood Waste

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"He's a what?" I choked on my cereal, gasping for air as I tried to comprehend what Stacy had just told me. 

"I didn't say he is! That's just what Grandma told me!" She shot back, defending one of the last living relatives in her family.

"Isn't your grandma... in a home?" I didn't know whether or not I wanted Stacy to be offended.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Placing the phone against the box of Captain Crunch, I silently thanked whatever had changed my initial thoughts of a FaceTime conversation.

"She's not, er, right."

"Right?"

"Crazy?" With hesitance I spoke slowly, and I knew I was stepping onto uncharted lands - unwelcome territory.

"Shut up, she's fine."

"She told you she saw him in a Colegate commercial."

"She could've!"

"Stacy..." Trailing off, I began losing faith in my best friend.

"Okay, so maybe Christopher Bale isn't a vampire and wasn't in a Colegate commercial."

"Finally."

"But we can't just rule that option out!" That was it; I was officially the only one who could be logical in our friendship.

"Well while you're watching every single Colegate commercial ever made, I'll actually ask someone reliable." Okay, so maybe that was a litlle untrue. 

Without waiting for an answer, I hung up, stood, and lightly placed my bowl in the sink. Running my hands through the warm water, I thought of all the people I could ask about Christopher Bale.

Definitely not Grandma. I didn't think she wanted to see us ever again. But who'd blame her? I mean, we were basically freeloading off of her for our whole lives. The only way we managed to snag a house was by using the fortune my father had left us.

Thoughts of my father led me to mom, and that's when remembered.

"Time to wake mom up," Grumbling to myself, I stomped up the stairs, sliding next to her door with my slippery socks. I rapped lightly on the fragile wood, willing it not to break. There were way too many things that could use repairing in our house already.

A monstrous, deep groan sounded from behind the door and I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Not that again.

"Mom. Get up." I snapped in irritation, opening the door. "Get up."

Her room wasn't much bigger than mine, if I ignored the walk-in closet and bathroom. She definitely deserved it though.

Walking to her side of the bed, I yanked the scratchy cover off of her, barely holding in my laughter as her eyes popped wide open. They unfocused, staring past me and to the ceiling, and I wondered if she had been having one of those dreams, the ones where when you're woken it's almost as if you're being torn from life itself. She turned in bed to stare at me, and I desperately tried to keep a straight face.

"Hey mom..." I started, rubbing my arm sheepishly. "So, I've got something to ask of you."

I guess it was only proper karma that she angrily glared at me in return, sitting up stiffly.

"It is nine in the morning. Nine. In. The. Morning." She gave me the stink eye and sent an accusing frown in my direction. "Why can't you be like normal teenagers and wake up six hours from now?"