When the morning comes

A scream shatters the silence. Oh, how I wish I would wake up from this nightmare. Mother said she would return when the sun showed her face over the distant mountain ranges. Why, then, do I still cower under this bed? Why do tears stream down my pale face and still I have no one to gently run her hand across my cheek? To tell me I will yet see another day?

Mother, please do not leave me here.

I am fourteen. I am almost ashamed to say it, but if you knew what I have been through... what I have seen...

I shake my head and stop my tears. It is almost midday. Mother said that if she was not back by now, I should leave. So I do.

It's cold outside. I can see no one on the streets. No one except the people who used to live here, who are now nothing but souls. I can hear nothing. Nothing except the wind whistling through the ruins of what used to be my village. I sense nothing. Nothing except fear. Every living thing around me is paralyzed with fear.

My only security is the spell my mother placed on me before she left. At precisely noon, I will become invisible. My mother is a witch, and my father was a vampire. My father was the last one of his kind. In an attempt to continue the line of vampires, he mated with the first woman who showed interest in him. He didn't know that my mother was a witch until it was too late.

A tingling sensation tells me that my mother's spell is taking effect. I creep out of my hiding place and walk slowly and carefully, taking care not to leave footprints in the snow.

I make my way down the street to the only house that's not been attacked in the village. This is Blakk's place. He took care of me when my mother was in danger of being burned. If a witch touches fire, there is no hope for them. They will die, and all of their enchantments will cease.

I reach up and drop the heavy knocker on his front door three times. He opens the door, all clothed in fur and silver. He looks confused for a moment. Then I realize that I am still invisible.

"Blakk!" I whisper. "It's me!"

"Jim?" he whispers back. I nod- then remember, again, that I am invisible.

"Yeah."

"Get in here, boy, quick!"

I hurry inside, and shut the door behind me.

"Your mother's work, then, I suppose?"

"It is," I reply. "She told me she would be here after sun up, but she never came."

"It is nearly midday, my boy," Blakk remarks. "Why did you wait so long before coming here?"

"She told me to wait for her until midday," I reply, collapsing into an armchair near the crackling fire.

"I say, Jim, that's a bit unnerving!"

Suddenly, I feel a tingle, spreading from my feet upwards. I look down and see my feet.

'Oh, god, no,' I think. 'No!'

As my body slowly becomes visible, I can see Blakk staring in horror at my midriff. When I an completely visible again, Blakk says quietly,

"Does that mean she's ... dead?"

I nod, fighting off tears.

We sit in silence for a while. I think both of us are in shock. Blakk loved my mother. I could tell by the way he looked at her. He had always been more than willing to do her favors.

"Listen, Jim," Blakk says after a while. "We need to get you out of here."

I nod again. If the sheriff finds out that I'm still here, he'll kill me and everyone who was protecting me. I can't let that happen to Blakk. He gets up and walks into his bedroom. When he comes back, he's carrying an old-looking sack. It's filled with provisions, and weapons. To me, he hands a dagger and bow and arrows. I cannot manage a sword, though I have tried. For himself, a long and slender sword and a dagger.

We set out at dusk in his horse-and-buggy. I am stowed away in the back, hidden under a pile of blankets. We are stopped only once by an official.

"Aye, sir!" he cries out.

"Aye?" Blakk replies.

"Where be you off to at this time o' the night?"

"Why, off to stay awhile with my cousin, the Duke of Weil."

"I presume your cousin knows of your coming?"

"Why, how can he?" Blakk shot back, an air of frustration about his voice. "There has not been news or post in or out of the village for a full moon-cycle."

"Ah, on your way, you simpleton."

"Thank you."

We roll on. On, I know not where. As I write this, I wonder if, indeed I will be alive when the sun peeks her lovely face above the edge of the land. Will I be alive when the morning comes?

For now, I cannot say