• I knocked on the door, “Cana it’s me.”
    Cana’s voice seemed heavier than usual, “Yeah, come in.” I fumbled the door open. Cana was sitting up with her cheek resting on the palm of her hand. Her beautiful blue eyes swimming in wonder, confusion, mystification. I could tell she didn’t want me to know what was bothering her; I respected her wish, saying nothing. The sound of my shoes on the floor gave off a sense of loneliness, emptiness.
    “I brought some homework and what not if you were interested,” I whispered setting down a pile of books on a small end table.
    “Sure why not,” she muttered weakly. “What did you bring?”
    I looked up at the ceiling, counting the subjects on my fingers, “Religion, Biology, English, and Algebra. Personally I don’t understand the Algebra lessons but you might have better luck than I do. In Religion and Biology it’s basic reading and memorizing. And in English we just started reading Edgar Allen Poe.”
    “Really? I love Edgar Allen Poe,” Cana’s joyous expression was destroyed by a look of confusion, as if something was going off inside her head.
    “Me too,” I whispered, fidgeting with the bloodstone that dangled from my choker. I couldn’t help but love how the stone looked like blood dripping down a black wall. And unlike other stones, mine seemed to drip perfectly. The tiny red streaks oozed down the smooth black as if it had been hand painted to do so.
    “May I see your choker?” She muttered. I carefully untied the ribbon from my neck and placed it in her hand. She held it gently, rubbing her fingers over the smooth surface, tracing over the drips with her eyes. “It’s pretty.”
    “Not really, it’s just bland. You choker is beautiful,” I said referring to the black gothic cross that dangled from her neck, followed by series of beaded black ribbons. It seemed so unreal, like it was only a drawing. It shone against her colorless skin.
    “Where did you get yours,” Cana’s confusion was mixed with the attempt to be friendly, a beautiful look for Cana I had never seen before. Her eyes sparkled the deep-set sapphire color that made my own eyes green of envy.
    “Funny story,” I sighed, still afraid to laugh around her, “I was actually l cleaning out my attic when I stumbled upon it. For some odd reason my dad had something against me keeping it, until my mother talked him into it. I wasn’t supposed to wear it in public, or too my grandfather’s house either. I know weird.” I began to trace the edging of the tear shaped gem.
    “Yeah that does sound kinda weird,” she breathed twisting her wheat hair in her fingers.
    I held my breath, “But it’s nothing. Well if that’s all I’d best be going.” I started for the door.
    “Wait!” Cana called after me. “Thanks.” She shifted her eyes away, once again avoiding mine.
    “No problem, Drea will be coming soon. She apparently wanted to scare the creeper kid before she came here.” I walked out of the room closing the door behind me as slowly as possible.
    I just didn’t understand. Why did everyone avoid my eyes? So what they weren’t the rich color that Cana’s were; there was nothing wrong with them. Everyone avoided my eyes. Cana, Edan, and even Drea could never look into my eyes like there was something terrible in them. All that was there was liquid milk chocolate that swirled, with the occasional tears that came mostly after nightmares.
    What was wrong with my eyes?










    Chapter 37

    I sat humming to one of the few songs I knew. Let it be, the song my mother would sing when we were troubled. I grew up barely knowing music. I didn’t know rhythmic sounds, or even dancing. Only the small excerpts of songs my mother sang. This particular one, being the song she would sing if I was troubled by something and desperately needed an answer.
    I closed my eyes, taking in the zephyr that was beginning to change from the warm summer to the cool autumn feel. It blew my charcoal hair in wavy circles around my light cheeks.
    “Hello there.” A gelid hand covered my closed eyes.
    I giggled lightheartedly, “Hello Edan.” He carefully drew his hand from my eyes. “What are you doing here?” I gave another pixie-like giggle, as if I were a child.
    “I wanted to take you somewhere,” he muttered playfully in my ear.
    “Where is there to go?”
    “You’ll see. But you might want to keep your eyes closed,” he laughed, gently taking my hand before throwing me on his back. I was overcome with the feeling of the winds pounding against my face and my dreary black hair staggered behind me.
    I had forgotten something major.
    Edan was a vampire.
    And that he was un-humanly and implausibly fast and strong.
    Very fast.
    And very strong.
    I held on to him, as if for dear life, clenching on to him harder and harder. I buried my face in his shoulder, waiting for the equally un-human experience to be over. The current of air gave a brontide in my ears. The world began to easily slow down, becoming heavier upon me. The ground hit my feet, vertigo was surely overwhelming.
    I fumbled to the ground, unable to handle the shaky sensation. The feeling of stillness was delightful, wonderful.
    “Scared?” Edan taunted, his voice overflowing with intimidation. His fangs standing out like diamonds against black paper.
    “N-No w-what would make you t-that?” I declared standing up, still shaking recklessly, and brushing the dirt of the navy skirt. I shifted my eyes across the milieu.
    A grave yard. A bloncketlue brume swayed in a melancholic and mischievous way. Gray headstones sprouted from the ground, their epitaphs becoming poetry in sync with the unusual names. It was strange; none of the deceased bore a last name.
    Shay.
    Face painted red.
    Instantly dead.

    I haunted me. It tortured me. It knew me.

    My mother’s name was Shay, better preferred over Sharon, thus she was called Shay. Her face was painted with drippy red. After being instantly killed on impact.

    “Are you alright?” Edan muttered.

    “How did you find this place,” I breathed uneasily.

    “I don’t really know truthfully. I’ve just always known it was here. Somehow I’ve just known.”

    “Why did you take me here?”

    “We can be alone. I don’t have to hide here.”

    “It perfect,” I whispered, “absolutely perfect.” I wasn’t afraid by the name carved into the tombstone. I was happy to see it, to remember. To remember my life before the catastrophe. I glided over to the grave, sitting down on my knees beginning to trace each letter one by one. S-h-a-y my finger glided over each one with care.

    “And how is it perfect?”
    I gave a long stare at the grave, “My mother’s name was Shay. And it’s also my middle name. Hai Shay Gao.”
    “Wouldn’t it be Sharon?”
    “No, it’s just Shay, my mother didn’t like Sharon so she legally changed to Shay.”
    “Shay,” he said tucking my hair behind my ear, “I like that. Shay.” I was starting to feel that Drea was right maybe I did have affinity towards him.



    Bonus Junk

    Remember how each character is represented by a color? well I have this braclete made of pipe cleaners that are blue orange and yellow. so at our school dance I run up to my partner and heres our convo.
    "Dude look at my bracelet! blaugh "
    "You do realize that there is blue in that stare "
    "Yes I do"
    "So whats the point of it?"
    "I named it MEJ"
    "MEJ? what the heck does that stand for?"
    "Max Edan and John!"
    "..... Wow"
    "I know right!"
    "I'm leaving"
    "Wait come back Soy Bean! gonk "