Smitten With the Bitten

I'm not sure how to recollect my story and put it down on paper.

When I think of the events consciously, they become a blur of color with sharp noises and rings. Almost as if not supposed to remember.

But then, when the memories bubble up from the back of my brain, it's then that they become clear. Crisp. Clean. No sloppy details. Almost pristine as if they want me to remember, no need me to remember.

But when the memories come roaring back, it feels like my head is splitting, my body aches. My eye sockets itch and burn with pure fear. And it hurts horribly. The madness contained in the dark recesses of my cranium does not wish to be silenced. It wishes to be known.

For the bitten are among us, roaming. They hide themselves in plain sight.

As I recollect my story, I wish to tell you one thing. At one point, I was innocent, but now, I'm a monster.

~chapter 1~

The soft hum of wind outside made the work not so unbearable, in fact I enjoyed working at the small diner in Joplin. I looked the interior decor and remembered how this had all been strewn about when the Joplin Tornado came through.

Snapping out of my reverie I continue to wipe down tables and chairs, cleaning them off any access food particles. Subconsciously, I sang 'Be Our Guest' from Beauty and the Beast, I swirled in my cute, old fashioned, uniform and continued to sing.

I whirled, danced, jumped, dipped, and swayed with the song. For the longest time I had wanted to be in show business, the thought of it all was enough to make me giddy. As I finished, I curtsied and smiled, although nobody was there.

Wrong.

Suddenly, a slow clap came from the other side of the diner. I spun around and peered at the man clapping for me.

"I didn't hear you come in, may I help you?" I said, embarrassed and quite shocked that I didn't see or hear him come in.

"Yea, that was a very thrilling performance you put on there," he said admiringly. The man waltzed over to the bar and sat on a stool, looking the place over. "Nice little place you got here."

"It will suffice," I answered back, surprised at his praise. "This is only part time." I handed him a menu, "what would you like to drink?"

"Water, no lemon."

"Alright, let me get that for you." I returned a minute later with his drink and took down his meal order.

"So what's your name," he asked charmingly.

"Liliana." I brought back his food, " how about you?"

"Aidan." He smiled back and thanked me for the food. I could have swore I saw something glint in his mouth, but when I took a double take, nothing was there.

"That's a nice name," I smiled and leaned on the counter.

"Your's is too, does anybody call you Lily?"

"Not regularly, why?"

"Just a question."

"Okay call me over if you need anything else," I only refilled his drink once. Then he vanished. I don't know where he went, but all I know is he left a note.

'Lily,

What a gorgeous name. I'll be back.

From, Adrian.'

Something gnawed at the back of my head, warning me. Call it mother's intuition.

I should have listened, but I was never one to do what I was told.