Mirror, Mirror (Book 2)

Chapter 2: A Long Walk Home

After reuniting, Oliver and Amelia depart from the school building and headed home; their feet shift past from several oncoming people, who nonchalantly attended stores, tourist attractions, and other establishments.

"How was your day at school?" asked Amelia, as they were walking.

"Amazing," Oliver answered sarcastically.

Amelia snorts, "then why do you look like you're in pain? Are you menstruating or something?"

Although Oliver was close to Amelia, her personality reminded him of an overbearing mother: she is dramatic, obsessed with fashion, blunt, caring, and outspoken.

Oliver flashes her a deadpan look.

"I'm not menstruating, Amelia. That's gross!"

"Hey, not all women menstruate," she said defensively.

"Can we not talk about menstruation in public?"

"Oh, please." Amelia laughed. "We're in Esterville, not New Jersey."

Believe it or not, Esterville is the safest town in Chicago. CBS, FOX, and other news broadcasts remarked on how low their crime wave is. Because of this, people, young and old, drop whatever they were doing and move here.

But to Oliver Harper, the real reason why people go to Esterville is that they want to see old legends—vampires, demons, ghosts, and other supernatural beings—come to life.

Unlike most citizens, Oliver Harper knew they were real; it wasn't because of the stories, but because he would see them walking past him with his own two eyes.

Like for instance, let's talk about Oliver's best friend: Amelia Parker.

For those of you who don't know Amelia, she is a one-hundred thirty-three-year-old British vampire, who lives with Oliver, while posing as a twentyish babysitter.

Aware of identity, Oliver finds difficulty in searching blood for the vampire.

Back then, he used to give her small squirrels to feed, but Amelia tells him that animal blood makes her throat dry.

Knowing that she prefers human blood, Oliver lets her hunt criminals at night.

Although Amelia's deeds were malicious and macabre, it was better than having her cooped up in his bedroom.

"So, when can I drink blood?" asked Amelia casually.

"Later," Oliver grunted. "And keep your voice down, people are listening."

"What? I am getting tired of drinking lattes— my stomach can't handle it."

Not only does she have to drink beverages, but also she couldn't have solid or liquid human foods like burgers, pizza, chicken, and so on.

Oliver sighed: "be patient, Amelia. You can have blood, but for now, just drink coffee."

"Ugh," she moaned. "Coffee gives me hunger pains."

"Okay," said Oliver, annoyed by her complaints.

"I'll find something for you to drink. So don't kill anyone."

"I don't kill innocent people, Olly." the vampire argued.

"I swear it on my mum's grave."

Despite her damsel appearance, Amelia would search across town at night, for a taste of the villain's blood.

Sometimes, she would walk alone at night, pretending to be lost or scared. Other times, she would dress herself up in fine clothes to attract pimps, mob bosses, and drug dealers.