chapter twenty-one

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I wake up the next evening and take a shower. I don’t think I actually have to take showers, but it’s a habit and I don’t really want to get rid of it. I get dressed pulling on a pair of jeans and a black band shirt and go into the main room where James is drinking coffee for some reason and reading the newspaper.

“I saw the body that you left in the street,” he says. “You’re finally starting to think.”

“I heard that my dad was killed,” I deadpan.

“Oh,” he says nonchalantly. “That had to be done.”

“Why?” I ask sharply.

“He could have reported you missing or if he had seen you he could have tried to get you to live with him again and we can’t have you living with humans.” But there’s something in James’ eyes, that tells me he’s lying.

“Tell me why you killed him.”

“He was going to die anyway,” James says as he carefully folds the newspaper. “I think you’d rather him die now than in the future with all the ailments that liver of his is going to give him. I’ve seen how much he drank. I’m surprised he didn’t die a long time ago.”

“But he was my dad!” I yell. “Why not kill someone I don’t know for a change?”

“Because I like killing people you know,” James says calmly as he stands up and faces me.  

Pure hatred for James surges through me and I shove at him. He steps back and smirks at me. “You sick fucked up bastard!” I yell as I throw a punch at him. “Why the hell do you like killing people I know?”

“Because it’s fun,” he explains in a bored voice that seems to imply that the answer should have been obvious.

I lunge at him but he sees it coming and he kicks me hard. I land on the floor and I get up to lunge at him again. He steps on my chest and holds me down. There’s only one thought racing through my mind:  I need to kill him. I get pleasure from the thought of James dead.

“Done?” he asks me.

“Fuck you!” I yell as I struggle against him. He increases the pressure on my chest. There’s pain, but I continue to struggle against him.

“Do you really want to fight me?” he asks. I don’t respond; I just hit the back of his knee and it buckles. I roll out from underneath him, launching myself on his back and latching my arms around his neck. I squeeze as tightly as I can, in a hold that should make him weaker.

“Why won’t you pass out already?” I growl at James as he rams me into a wall.

“Maybe because I’m a vampire,” he yells as he throws me over his head and into the kitchen.

I land on the counter and my head smashes through a cabinet. Cans start falling around me and I grab one of them, launching it in James’ general direction.

I grab another one but James taunts, “You’re going to have to try harder than that! Is that really the best you can do? Pathetic.”

I pause.  Is that really the best I can do? I look at the canned beans in my hand. Throwing a can at him, when my head painlessly smashed the cabinets, isn’t going to do anything. So what will? I need to kill him with a stake. I can’t get the stakes on my own, but I know someone who can help.

I drop the can on the floor and it lands with a dull thunk. I know I can’t get out the front door. I look at the window next to me. If I survived smashing a cabinet, I think I can survive a window. I’m dead either way, so it doesn’t make a difference if I make it. I take a deep breath and run towards the window, hitting it with my shoulder. It shatters and for a few seconds I’m in a slow, peaceful world, careening towards the ground with fragments of glass. I turn around in the air, trying to land on my feet; instead I land on my side. There’s a flare of pain but I shrug it off.

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