Don't touch them.

Chapter 2

   They followed me in the rest of my classes too. Of course I'm suposed to show them around, but they always sit in the back, right next to me. At least, for the first 3 hours. Then lunch rang. They followed me to the cafeteria. Where we were the last in line. I had to wait ten minutes for a fucking apple. While they were ordering their own food I ditched.
   I have straight A's. Have since Sophmore year. I graduate this year, get a college scholarship, and I'm out of that damn house.
   I just walk out of school. No one bothers to stop me. They never do. I go around the school to the treeline.  
  There's some large oaks there that are good for climbing. And climbing is just what I do. My body protests as I go, my bag still on my back. The beating the other night wasn't worse than any other but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I reach the top of the tree and slip off my bag, putting it behind my head as a pillow as I lean back on the large limb under the cover of dead leaves.

   I jolt upright, hitting my head on the limb above me when someone yells my name. For a few moments I'm afraid it's my mother, and I look around frantically, ready to dodge any thrown bottles.
   "We're down here." I look down to see Anna and Samuel, sagging against the tree.
   "Don't fucking do that." I groan.
   "Do what?" Anna asks.
   "Yell at me like that. I almost fell out of the tree." I turn over, facing away.
   "But I didn't yell... Light sleeper much?"
   "Um, we lost you at lunch." Samuel says.
   "Sorry about that. Shouldn't you guys be in class?"
   "School's out. Has been for a while now. Some other kids helped us find classes. They were mumbling about you though, not sure I like them much..." Anna growls, "I hate people like that. They barely seemed to know you! Of course we barely know you too..."
   "Did you say schools been out for a while?" I not sure I want to know the answer.
   "Yeah. We were about to head home when we smelled- uh, saw you-"
   "Cut the shit. I know a wolf when I see one. What time is it?" I ask. They look taken aback.
   "You're not... Afraid of us?"
   "My best friend's a goblin. What time is it?" I throw my bag over my shoulder, wincing as I climb out of the tree.
   "Uh, four thirty." Samuel checks his phone. Shit! I'm so late! He'll be worried! By the time I get there it'll be past time for his dinner!
   I jump the rest of the way from the tree, grunting and wincing when my tired legs hit the hard ground, but I take off running anyways. He's about a twenty minute walk but running should cut down my time considerably.
   I can hear the other two behind me, yelling for me to stop. But I lose them when I race through some cars at a stop light. My hair blows away from my face as I run, leaving my scar and damaged eye exposed. I see some kids from school, and they only watch as I dodge around their cars and others on the sidewalk, into the nice old neighborhood where Mr. Charlie lives.
   I stop on the sidewalk in front of his house, panting. I wave as one of his neighbors drives by. Everyone in the neighborhood has seen me here, and vaguely knows what I do by now. I've been helping Mr. Charlie for almost 3 years.
   The spare key is under his welcome mat, classically. I pull off my bag and open his door, walking in.
   "Mr. Charlie! I'm sorry I'm late I got caught up at school." I drop my bag when I walk into the living room. Mr. Charlie is lying on the floor... Face first.
   His sunglasses are on the ground across the room. His television is missing, and the precious crystal vase on the mantle is gone, his wife's ashes on the floor. I walk slowly closer. I'm not religious but I pray he's breathing.
   There's blood pooled around the other side of his head... There's a hole in his skull. He's not breathing. There's small bit of red fuz by his shoulder. Lint from his sweater dyed red with blood. I would throw up if there was anything left in my stomach. Instead I walk to his kitchen. To his home phone where I call the police.
   My voice doesn't waver as I explain what had happened to the operator. But when he asks for my name, and asks me to stay on the line, I just hang up. I hate to do it but I can't stay here. I left my jacket in my locker and I can't deal with the police right now. I can't.  
  Thankfully, only Mr. Charlie knew who I really was. But he knew, and he accepted me.
   When I put the phone down, I leave. I don't look back at the body as I go. I dont have to. The image is engraved in my mind. Despite my efforts, tears stream down my face. I wipe them with the back of my hand as I run out of the neighborhood.
   I get a lot of odd looks but ignore them, and they go on with their day.  
That's the scariest part.
   Despite it happening to me for three years now, technically 16. Despite everything horrible going on, eveyone goes on about their day. Neighbors will post sad things on their social media, but they go on laughing. Strangers will say they'll pray in church. But they won't. No one cares if it doesn't affect them.
   "Dain?" Someone asks. I just keep walking. My breath hitches, and I pause only for a moment when I hear the sirens. But I quickly start again, going faster this time.
   When I get home, it's later than usual. An hour later. And somehow mom knew.
   When I slowly opened the door, slipped inside, and closed it again... A bottle shattered on the wall, right next to my head.
   I drop my bag and turn to face the woman in front of me. Thin but curvy, still in her work suit, her makeup done and her hair falling out of it's nice bun.
   "You're home later than usual. Were you buying blood again?" She asks calmly. She's definitely not sober. I'm home early for once.
   "N-no. Of course not." I slouch, trying to be a smaller target. I haven't had blood in months. I had some before school started. Another vampire was selling it behind the old supernatural owned Stop n' Save. It was from a cow and it was horribly fatty but it was sustenance. Human food just doesn't quite cut it after the shift. I'm weak now, but I can survive. Aspen needs his food more than I do.
   She doesn't bother with slaps. She just punches me. Her knuckles collide painfuly with my jaw. But she let's me go with just that as she turns away. Thank whatever God has left me to die that she's drunk.
   I hurry to my room where Aspen is laying on my mattress in the floor, his tail wagging pitifully as he stares up at me, head between his paws.
   "I'm okay bud. But... You remember Mr. Charlie?" I ask he picks up his head as I sit beside him. I can feel my eyes welling again and my vision blurs with tears.
   "He's... He's gone..." I cry. Aspen knows about everything. I tell him everything. And he knows all about Mr. Charlie too. He jumps up, pushing me back on the bed, then snuggles up close beside me.