• Great. Just great. Of all the perfect houses we passed on our way here, he had to choose this one. I stared out of the car’s window, at the house’s front door, hanging sadly on the hinges. Looking up, I notice that several of the windows are broken.

    “Well, home sweet home,” Brian says, a little tiredly.

    “And this is what you call a home?” I ask, out of frustration more than anything. “The door is about to fall off its hinges, the windows are broken, and you still call this a home?!”

    “Hey man, this was all I could find!” He says, heatedly.

    “Well, think of it this way, boys; at least we have a home, thanks to Tony’s little screw up back at our last place.” Sarah says, dispiritedly.

    “I guess you have a point.” I sigh, opening the car door and getting out.
    We all walk up to the front door, waiting for Brian to find the right key and unlock it. After a few seconds of searching, he finds the right key, unlocking the door and letting us all in. “It’s not much, but hopefully we can spruce it up,” Brian says, in an attempt to cheer us all up, “Well, a little paint here, a little spackling there, and hopefully, it should be good as new.” We all head into the kitchen, sitting down at the table. “How about a toast to our health and the new house before we turn in?” Sarah says. We all consent, and she pulls a bottle of wine out of her bag, along with several glasses. Noticing the odd look I gave her, she says simply; “I packed these before we left, but I was hoping to use them later on.” She gives a meaningful look at Brian, and I nod my head in sudden realization. We all toast, and head upstairs, trying to find a room to sleep in. We all eventually find a bedroom, but not without Tony tripping over a rug in his attempt to claim the room that is now mine.

    Happy family, aren’t we?

    If you really consider it, we aren’t a true family, but in our eyes, we are. Shunned by everyone for being ourselves, we found each other, and made our little group. If you’re still wondering why we’re being shunned, it’s simple.

    We’re vampires.

    No, not the stay out at night, sleep in our coffins by day sort of vampires, but ones who try and make friends, have a social life. It’s not our fault for being who we are, blame the people who bit us. We just go around trying to fit in with other people. You know, hang out, go to the mall together, eat dinner at that new place up the street. We’re just normal people with a bit of a pro-