Five years. Since the last time he visited her in the cottage she was never allowed to step out of, it's been five lonely years. Every year, on her birthday, she would wait until the clock strikes twelve and all hopes of encountering his indulging presence again disappears for the next 364 days.
She accepted and tolerated this unredeemable cycle after experiencing a somewhat acute attachment to the one who granted her the life she continues to endure through today.
"Papa, do vampires exist?" A loud clangor of a pot hitting the ground broke the momentary silence, startling her as she rushed to the kitchen where dinner was just served.
"Is everything alright?"
"Why do you ask such a question?"
Alarmed by the sudden coldness in his expression, she wished she hadn't asked such an unnecessary query that she read in the book Scott gifted for her birthday. Worried that she might've troubled him, she bent down to pick up the pot and said, "I'm sorry, I was just curious."
She caught the image of a hand reach out to her cheek from the corner of her eye. With her balance off, she fell onto the cold, wooden floor that creaked. The left side of her face stung as much as the sound made from the impact, just below her lashes, a cut that his ring had caught her skin.
That night, as the moonlight cast a shadow across her room, she cried herself to sleep—never coming to a conclusion on what it was that made him go as far as a physical outburst.
YOU ARE READING
Poisoned in Red
Vampiri🌗 A decade ago, a blood war took place emerged from the taboos of young Romeo and Juliet; a vampire and a mortal. As the tragedy goes, together, the paramours are bound to be led to the bite of awakening an impeccable and ravenous baby bi...
