The Waitress Game

Vampires Don't Exist

Chapter One

'Vampires Don't Exist.'

            A piercing scream from down the hallway made me shoot out of my bed. It was Marge. I was sure of it. Heart thumping wildly, I sped out of my room and down the empty hall. She was still screaming. Loud and horrifying. It sounded like something out of a nightmare. I reached the room she was in, heart in my throat.

  She was sitting up in bed, eyes closed. Her golden hair hung around her shoulders like a shadow. Mouth raked open, she was screaming and screaming, each one sending chills down to my spine. I rushed over to her bed, and gripped her cottoned shoulders tightly. Tears sprung to my eyes.

    "Marge! Marge! Hey..wake up! You're having a nightmare! Marge, for Christ's sake, open your damned eyes!" I screeched above her wailing. She screamed one last terrible time, before her eyes abruptly shot open. I froze, staring at her cautiously. Her hazel eyes were wide and horrified. She locked them onto my brown eyes, expressing every bit of emotion and fear she felt.  They looked...vulnerable. Like she had just been swimming with death.

     "I saw him again Leah he was there! I-I-m ss-certain. I thought he was going to take me again....I thought this time-" she rambled shakily in her British accent whilst gripping tightly to my wrists.  Still shaken myself, I tried to calm her down. I stopped her wrists.

      "Who, Marge? Who was trying to take you?" I intergected calmly. Hypocritically. I was everything but. She stopped her rambling, before suddenly casting her eyes down. I saw the tears prickle beneath.

    "Nothing. Nobody. You'll never believe me anyway-" I suddenly let go of her wrists, and gripped my hair in frustration.

  "Bloody hell, Marge! You've got to get over your freaky obsession with the supernatural! Vampires do not exist! Werewolves don't either! Stephanie Meyer, P.C Cast, Cassandra Claire and the like, are all freaking sociopaths!" I exclaimed. A sob escaped her throat and she refused to look at me. I shook my head in disbelief, glaring at her for a second. Her breathing hitched again, and instantly, a guilty feeling spread through me.

     We both knew they weren't real. Even though she liked to pretend to;  we both knew they didn't exist. Yet, that didn't stop my best-friend's dream from feeling real. She was wholly and genuinely horrified; and that hurt me. I didn't want her to feel that way. If she would just quit reading those damned books! If she would just stop with the Facebook group vampire chats! Teen Wolf...everything, ugh!! I could just explode! Suddenly, I made up my mind. My mouth was set in a grim line.

"That's it. We're going to burn them all. Right, freakin' now." I hissed darkly, watching her brows rise in shock. I got up quickly, before she could stop me, and marched across the room to her carrier bag. I knew what was in there. Books. Loads and loads of freaking supernatural books.

"Wait! Leah, please! Leave them alone!" She wailed viciously, stumbling out of bed. I ignored her, ripping open the pink tote with a fierce zzzzZip. I gasped. Just as I expected. She had volumes of them. volumes. My only question was why? Why would she bring them on our camping trip? It didn't make sense. It was like she was.....it was like she was possessed.

She stumbled out of bed awkwardly before crossing the hardwood floor.

    Reaching me, she gripped me fiercely, before whipping me around.

"You're not burning my books Leah! Who'd be the sociopath then, huh?" she exclaimed in a patronizing tone. I could feel the raw emotion in her voice, see it as she stared me down; and I knew, that if I did burn her books, she would never forgive me. Marge let out a sigh, before getting down on her knees beside me. She drew me into a hug; we were both still shaken up. Slowly, I returned the hug.