Past Passages

Journal 1

     "YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I hear my new foster father yell at new foster mother from downstairs.

     "DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!" Mom yells back, "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"

     "THE FUCKING MAN AROUND HERE, THAT'S WHO!"

      "OH, YEAH RIGHT! THAT MIGHT WORK WITH YOUR LITTLE WHORES BRANDON, BUT  NOT HERE! HERE YOU'RE NOTHING! DO YOU HEAR ME? NOTHING!"

      They've fought like this every night since I arrived here a week ago. The first day they fought over me: who's job it was to take me to school. Then over the bills, then who was the real bread winner in the house, then who wore the pants in the relationship (a fight that I didn't stick to see who the winner was after I heard what sounded like the beginning of rough sex), and now they're fighting because Zoey, my foster mom, found lipstick stains all over Brandon's underwear.

     Really though, Zoey should have expected this. No Publix bag boy works shifts at 2am and since when was it normal to go lingerie shopping for your mom?

     "AT LEAST SARAH KNOWS HOW TO TREAT A MAN!"

     "OH NOT THIS AGAIN!" Zoey yells exasperatedly.

     "YES, THIS AGAIN! YOU DONT-" Brandon starts but Zoey cuts him off in a mimicking voice.

     "'YOU DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO ME ANYMORE!' 'YOU DON'T LISTEN TO WHAT  I HAVE TO SAY!' 'YOU DON'T MAKE LOVE TO ME LIKE YOU USED TO!' OH GROW THE FUCK UP BRANDON! THIS ISNT YOUR MOTHER'S HOUSE ANYMORE! IF YOU WANNA BE A MAN THAN GROW A FUCKING PAIR AND START ACTING LIKE ONE!"

     The sound of a door slamming.

     Glass shatters.

     Silence floats up from downstairs and for a second I panic. Did Brandon finally succeed in killing Zoey? Am I next?

     But then Zoey speaks again. "Good job, dumbass. You killed the girl's fish. Now pick them up before she comes down here and sees 'em."

     Oh... Oh well, I never liked goldfish anyway.

      After that, the yelling catches up again but I'm not listening.

     I need an escape. I hate this crappy town and all the crappy people in it. I hate this crappy 'family'. I wish I still had my books, the only form of escape I had in this world. But stupid Brandon tore them up in one of his fits, yelling at me that books don't make you smart, that they don't help for shit. But, God, if I just had one book right now, I don't even care what kind of book...

     Oh wait, I do have one!

     Bending down, I grab my backpack from the floor and fish through it for the book my best friend gave me for my birthday yesterday. Even through all this mess, my best friend has still managed to be there for me.

     I open the book to the first page and begin reading.

***

     School is a bitch. I don't know why I have to keep going to that hell hole. The teachers are all assholes, the students are even bigger assholes, the whole place is run down, and the bathroom always smell like shit and piss.

     You're not supposed to like it, my caseworker tells me, you're to gain social skills so do that.

     Bullshit! Why should someone like me have to put up with this shit anyway!? I'm a vampire hunter for fuck sake! I don't need social skills, I need a new steel stake! Damn it!

     Rage grips me like flames licking up my body and I went from angrily speed-walking down the sidewalk to punching my fist through an abandoned building's window. Only the feeling of blood trickling between my knuckles and down my fingers alerted me to what I'd just done.

     Damn it.

     We need to work on your anger issues too, I hear my caseworker say in my head.

     At that same moment, I felt the familiar feeling of the hairs on the back of my neck rising and mentally cheered. YES! This is just what I needed tonight! I reach for my stake strapped to my thigh and...

     Fuck, I forgot my damned caseworker confiscated it! Wait, the broken glass! I guess my anger issues are good for something, huh?

     Picking up the biggest, sharpest shard I can find and turn to face my enemy and find him already rushing toward me.

      "Oh, bring it on bloodsucker!" I yell just as he reaches me.

      I duck when he makes a claw at my face and catch him under the jaw with an uppercut. He stumbles and I use the opportunity to sweep kick his feet out from under him. He falls but is back on his feet a second later.

     Damn vampire speed.

     Again, he rushes at me, fangs out and yellow venom dribbling from his lips. He hisses at me and when I get a whiff of that vampire breath...

     Phew!

      I instinctively move to cover my nose but he grabs my wrist. He has about a good 2 feet of height and about 50 pounds on me and easily lifts me up and slams me against the building. The wind gets knocked out of me and I almost drop the shard of glass in my free hand.

     Almost. I lift it high and although my arms are too short for me to slice his neck with it in this position, or even scratch his face, they're still long enough for me to give a good throw. And throw I do.

     The throw is good and I manage to embed the glass into his jugular. He goes down choking.

     And three more vampire pop up hissing.

     I grab two more pieces of glass. "Go ahead, vamps, make my night."