The Newborn

I rub the tender bite marks on my neck for the eighth time today. "Are these going to go away?" He didn't say anything, he just kept his head in his hands. "Dar..." "I don't know Raquel" I look at them in the mirror again. The tree limb like veins around the two needle pin sized holes were as black as coal. They look unreal, artificial, like I wasn't looking at my neck. It's like I'm watching a movie and I was staring at an actress examining herself in her bathroom mirror. I stare at them so much that they seem fake. It could have been make up if I trick myself into believing so.
I followed one of them from the back of my ear all the way down to my pinky finger and another from my toe up to my shoulder the other day. "Stop messing with them" he barked. I didn't mind him at all. I still traced and squeezed them in hopes that the God awful blood that's stuck inside them would come out.