Swiggity Swampire My Roommate's a Vampire

Schism

It was Vic who woke me again. Over the last few days it, as in the event of Vic shaking me awake rather angrily, had become a weird and twisted tradition- mostly because I frequently overslept my alarm. I grumbled softly and curled closer into my blankets to try and avoid Vic's shoving.

"Wake up, Fischy," Vic growled, her shaking growing more vicious. She'd just ended her aggressive singing of 'You Are My Sunshine'- another weird and twisted tradition we were forming. "It's nine in the morning! A girl needs her sleep."

I pushed my foot into her stomach to hold her at bay, though it wouldn't do much considering my legs were extremely short. "Vic, stop," I growled, fumbling for my phone so I could silence the alarm. I had the growing urge to either vomit or rip Vic's head off.

"Ah, thank the gods." Vic said in relief, "That horrid noise is gone. Bless you, Fischy."

"My name isn't Fischy." I growled, probably for the thousandth time, "It's Hynden. I call you by your name, so call me by mine." I was still lying in bed, I had no motivation to get up. I was too achy, too... I don't even know how to describe it.

"But it suits you." Vic pretended to pout. Then, she smirked, "If you don't get up now, you'll be later than you already are."

I rolled over on my side, hoping it'd stop the headache that was creeping up on me. "I'm not going." I grumbled.

Vic quirked an eyebrow. "That's uncharacteristic of you."

"You've known me for a handful of days." I told her, clenching and unclenching my fists to try and keep myself collected. "You don't know what's uncharacteristic of me and what's not. I let you sleep all day-"

"Hardly, Fischy."

"You get more hours of sleep than a cat, Victoire, so let me have my sick day." I closed my eyes, rubbing at my forehead and nose. Sometimes my headaches were caused by Vic now. She reeked of cigarette smoke and torment and agony. Basically, she smelled like misery personalized. The smell always lingered around the dorm, especially the bunks, and it burned my nose.

"Fine. But be quiet and don't talk to me." Vic sniffed, crawling back up into her own bed.

I tried to take in deeper breaths and just keep my eyes shut to keep the pain away, to try and will myself back to sleep, but it wasn't working. I stared up at the underside of Vic's bunk for a long while and simply allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. "Vic?"

"I told you not to talk to me." Came her disgruntled voice.

"Vic," I said, pressing on anyways, "What if you woke up one day and you were just a chicken nugget. Like, poof! Nuggefied."

I could hear Vic's irritated sigh. "First of all, Fischy, 'nuggefied' isn't a word. Second of all, that's absurd. If you were turned into a chicken nugget, you wouldn't wake up. You'd be dead because you wouldn't be a chicken nugget, you'd be a human nugget and the poor child whose family bought the box of chicken nuggets you're a part of would be subjected to cannibalism."

I frowned and glared at the bunk. "You're such a killjoy."

"You ask dumb questions." Vic said simply. "I don't like dumb questions."

"It's nice to have a roommate who can appreciate my humor." I muttered sarcastically.

Vic growled and peered down at me from her bunk. "I wish you'd just shut up and realize how loud you're being. You're making my head hurt."

I glared up at her, "Somehow you don't even have to open up your mouth to make my head hurt."

"Oh yeah?" Vic snapped, "Well, if you were any shorter you'd probably fade out of existence."