Changes

Change

I laid in my bed, listening to the rain against my window. The events of the evening played through my head. What I thought was going to be a terrible blind date, set up by my friend Natalie, actually turned out to be a wonderful night out.

I spent forever fretting in front of my full length mirror. I sorted through several outfits before I settled on a pair of jeans and my favorite maroon sweater. I threw my hair up in a pony tail, and put on a little makeup. I hated first dates. Hell, I hated dating in general. It felt like a pointless game, and at this point I was content to be alone with my cat.    

I took a cab to the restaurant, and I arrived there first, anxious as all hell. I sat at the bar, and sipped at a glass of wine, while I anxiously kept my eyes on the restaurant's entrance, waiting for him to arrive. By the time I finished my first glass he walked through the door. He gave me a shy wave and made his way to our table. We shared an awkward handshake-turned-hug, and then he pulled my chair out for me at the dinner table. 

We stumbled through the ice breakers and small talk, and by the second glass of wine for him, third glass for me, we had discovered we had much more in common than we initially had thought.  I made a mental note to thank Natalie for setting this up for me. For part two of our date night, we went to a classic movie monster double feature at the theater, and we munched on popcorn as we watched Lon Chaney Jr. transform into a werewolf. 

After the movies, we took a cab back to my house, and we stood in front of my door. After a moment, he reached up and brushed his thumb gently on my cheek, and then wove his hand in my hair. His lips were soft against mine at first, but then he deepened the kiss, his tongue playing with mine and then scraped it against my teeth. I thought I tasted blood, but was so wrapped up in our kiss. 

 After we parted, he flashed a beautiful half smile and told me he would message me in the morning. The look in his eyes though, seemed almost sad, or maybe regretful? I stood there, for a long while, my face blushing red. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that I was now rather hot and bothered by our little exchange or if it was from absolute embarrassment. When I got into my house, I took a cool shower and now laid wide awake in my bed.

I flipped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. We had only met up that day, and I hadn't been out on a date in a while, but I didn't think kissing or even sex on the first date was a big deal. Or maybe I was just that bad of a kisser? Is that why he declined my invitation to come inside? Did I seem too desperate? I groaned in frustration, shook my head. I whipped the blankets off my bare legs, and got out of bed.

The soft night light in the hall gently lit my way to the kitchen. I hoped a cup of tea would help relax my mind. I flicked the small light above the sink on and grabbed the kettle off the stove and glanced at the red numbers which read 1:30 AM.

I grabbed a bag of my favorite tea from the container next to the stove and dropped it into the steaming water in my cup. I sat down at one of the bar stools next to the counter and twirled the bag in the water. I watched the water change to the soft brown color of the tea leaves. I sipped at my tea, watching the numbers of the stove clock change. 1:45. 2:00. 2:10.

I couldn't get him out of my head. My mind went through our conversations, and the sound of his deep but soft voice. The way his green eyes seemed to shine when he laughed, even at my terrible jokes. I finished my tea, and placed my cup in the sink, then made my way back to my room. I've never had someone this stuck in my head before. 

I made it halfway down the hallway when I suddenly started coughing. At first it felt like something went down the wrong tube but, I couldn't stop, and then it felt like it was deep in my chest. I held out one hand and braced myself against the wall, while I covered my mouth with the other. I felt something splatter into my hand and when I looked down there was a thick, black, inky substance.

'What the hell?' I thought to myself, going into another coughing fit.

I stumbled to the bathroom, flicked the light on, and made it to the sink just as more of the black liquid splashed in the basin and slowly slid down the drain.

When it felt like it had finally subsided, I lifted my gaze to look at myself in the mirror. I looked like something from a horror movie, with the blackness around my mouth and running from my nose.

'What the hell is wrong with me?' I asked myself.

"You're changing." Came a man's voice from the hallway.

I nearly jumped out of my skin and reached for the nearest object to defend myself. I pointed my curling iron and toward the voice, and braced to swing. The figure stepped forward into the light and I recognized him immediately. 

"Tristian? How did you..." I managed to say hoarsely. The look in his eyes hadn't changed since he dropped me off at home. But what was he doing here now? And how the hell did he get in? I kept the curling iron ready to swing.

"I came in through your window. I'm-." He stopped just a few feet in front of me. We locked eyes for a moment, but dropped his gaze to the ground. "I'm here to help you during your change."

"Change? What do you mean change? Change into what?" I looked back down at the black liquid in my hand and in the sink and then glared back at him. "What the hell are you?"

"I promise, I'll explain." Was all he said, but they way he said it sounded completely heartbroken.

I was ready to throw my curling iron at him, but then I felt my stomach roll, and I twisted back toward the sink, letting it clatter to the floor. I gripped the edge, and more black liquid splashed the bottom.

I felt hands gently pull my hair back, and I started to fight him away, but I felt another wave of nausea. More of the blackness escaped my stomach. He let go of me for just a moment  and turned the faucet on, the water forcing the goo down the drain. 

Then the pain began. It was a pain I had never felt before. I could feel myself scream, but all I could hear was blood pounding in my ears. My skin began to feel hot, like I was covered in flames. My chest tightened and my muscles felt as if they were being whacked with a several steal pipes continuously. My knees buckled from under me,  but his arm wrapped around my waist, kept me from collapsing to the floor.  In the very back of my mind, I felt self conscious of the fact I was in just a T-shirt and my underwear while he held my close. Another round of pain, threw that thought to the side, while I fought with every fiber I had left to stay conscious.

It felt like forever until  the nausea and pain finally subsided, leaving my body feeling like it was broken. I struggled to catch my breath.  With a shaking hand, I splashed the still running water on my face and rinsed out my mouth. I turned off the faucet and patted my lips dry with the towel I keep draped on the sink.

I felt my hair fall back to my shoulders, but his arm remained around me. If I had any fight left in me, I would have punched him in his face, but it took everything in me just to keep standing. My body shook with a ferocity that I have never felt before. 

"I'm so sorry." He whispered into my hair. "I didn't want this."

He let go of me and I turned to face him, still holding the edge of the sink to stay standing. "What did you do to me?" He didn't look up at me, just kept his gaze planted to the floor. I thought I saw a glimmer of a tear fall from the corner of his eye.

"Dammit, Tristian! Answer me!" I shouted, pushing him as hard as I could. Which, evidently, wasn't very hard. 

He barely stumbled back, as I collapsed to my knees. We were both quiet for a long time before he finally spoke.

"Mila," He let out a defeated sigh, and finally was able to look me in the eyes.