Sweet Revenge

Chapter One

I dialed. My fingers caressing the rubber buttons. Pure glee flowed through me. My parents haven't realized what I was yet... Dinners have been tricky. My body no longer craved the human food. It was no longer my source of power, my will to live... Or in this case, exist. After six rings, I counted, someone answered. 

"Hello?" said a familiar low, scratchy voice that sent shivers up my spine. I put on my game face and followed through  with my plan. He would be mine again, soon.

"Sam, I need help. Please." I made my voice sound  vulnerable and weak, seeking help. 

"Marie? What's wrong?"

A smile played on my lips as I spoke, "It's my dad... He's got a gun. Come now, please. Don't call the cops, whatever you do," I pleaded. "I swear, he'll probably shoot me. Just hurry! Please." I was quite pleased with the way I sounded. In a matter of fact, I had no idea how he could not fall for my act.

"I can't get out of the house. You know that, remember my probation? I'll try though, hold on. I hope you don't mind," he lowered his voice. "but Mikey's here too." I  swallowed a growl, barley.

"Bring her too!" I squeaked, almost to quickly, "I mean, the more people that are here, the less likely Dad will do something he'll regret." 

After a long, awkward silence, he finally replied, "Okay, we're on our way. Just, stay away from your father. Hide." And the line went dead.

I sat there on the kitchen stool with the phone up to my ear, staring out the huge glass French doors that led out to my families grand patio. We always had formal parties out there, where Dad would grill my favorite, pork chops and French bread. I could almost smell the smokey meat, and taste the sweet, tangy bread on my tongue. My mouth watered at the memory. 

I caught myself and shook my head. You can't have that anymore Marie, I scolded.  I was now a slave to the moon. The Night was my cover. 

I set the phone down and dressed in my favorite, tight black skinny jeans, black hoodie, and high top Converse. Shouldn't be long now, they should be showing up. With my parents out looking for me all over town, I had the house to myself, might as well make the best out of it, right? I grabbed my iPod, Blue-toothed it to our new stereo system, and let Bring Me to Life by Evanescence blare in my ears. As the music played, I grabbed my eyeliner and headed for the bathroom, not like I had any uses for  it anymore.

When the over head light flicked on,  I stared at my reflection. A pale, white girl stared back. Sixteen. Hollow cheeks, blood red iris, and wavy dark chocolate brown hair that hung like a curtain around her shoulders, all the  way down to her waist. Her lips were pale, almost the color of her skin, blending into her features. She looked just like her mom... My mother. Where was she now? I had no idea, but that was another reason why I needed him.

I heard them before I saw them. Sam's truck was impossible to mistake for anything. I took one last glance at myself in the mirror, checking my make-up. My eyeliner, applied effortlessly, looked phenomenal. I stalked silently out of the house, and ran up the driveway, arms flying. The old, black, rusted truck came into view. The brake lights blared, blinding me for a second, and then slowed. He saw me. I ran to the truck once it came to a stop, forcing myself to look as if I was out of breath.

"Hurry! He's up there!" I shouted, pointing a shaking finger behind me, panic hinted in my voice. Sam didn't even bother turning off his truck. He just grabbed his pocket knife and started running the half mile back up to the house. 

After he was out of view, I turned sharply. Mickey was here. I could smell her. How many times have I studied that sent, promising myself, if I ever found her, I would gladly sink my fangs into her throat and drain her life, and his love, from her body and heart.