If you could sum up my life in one word, it was crazy. It started with my weird birth in the middle of a bathtub in a
desert. (What the hell was a bathtub doing in the middle of a desert?) It then went to the even odder disappearance of
my father. He disappeared in a bathroom that had no possible escape route except for door, which I was in front of. And,
so it seemed now, it was ending by this crack head with big eyes.
I gulped, taking in three good gulps of breath before I stammered out breathlessly, "You can't kill me," in this
shaky, nervous voice. Because, despite my words, I was aware--very aware--that he could kill me. And would kill me. "You
won't," I said firmly, my voice somewhat stronger.
I pressed myself against the wall flatly, watching as those red-rimmed, black eyes. He grinned, his breath foul and
rank, like the oldest possible garbage ever. I almost choked on it, but I regained myself by breathing through my mouth
and out my nose. His teeth were yellow--like, really yellow. The color of that dark yellow you get in the 64 crayon
Crayola box. His skin was drawn back from his face, taut, and tight, but still wrinkled, oddly. He was thin, too thin.
And paler than a ghost. He was too damn ugly. And stank smelling.
"Oh, but I will. You look like you are worth plenty of money," he said softly, stroking me with a dirt-encrusted
finger. I had to swallow my bile. The touch sent shivers of horror and nausea down my spine. Goosebumps appeared up and
down my arms. I would've screamed, but then I would've puked. "What's wrong, gorgeous?"
Gorgeous. He said the word like it was the wickedest of words. It slithered off his tongue like a snake. It was evil
sounding and terrible. I wanted to cry, I wanted to throw up, and I most definitely wanted to beat him in the head with
something sharp. Another part of me wanted to kick him in the nuts, but his pants had bugs crawling on them. And he
looked to high to even feel the pain. Instead of doing what I wanted to, I edged towards the other side so slowly, that
he wouldn't even see me move unless he was peering closely. I was hoping on him being too high to notice.
Those ten feet hadn't looked further away.
I creeped closer witha fake smile plastered against my face. "Nothin'. I'm just thinkin' how my boyfriend wanted to
sleep with me before I died. Or him." I tried to go for the sympathy act, but it was obviously the wrong thing to say.
His eyes flashed evilly, his grin widened. "I'll take care of that. Are you a virgin?"
I nodded slightly. Good. I was at the edge of the wall.
I took one step forward. His hand shot out, grabbing my neck, and pulling me closer to him. I shrieked loudly,
flinging and writhing around like an idiot. A part of me warned me to get my wits together, but I couldn't. Panic had
set in and I had completely lost all rationality.
Before he could completely choke me to death, I screamed. Loudly. The scream caused him to step back in agony and
loosen his grip enough that I was able to wriggle from him. I took off running, screaming, "HELP" as loud as possible.
MY voice echoed down the empty street. I could hear his steps behind me, pursuing me. For once, I wished I was a two
mile runner. Hell, I wished I was a runner. Fuck being a certain kind!
I pushed forward, my feet slapping against the ground with a thud. The pounding in my heart was apparent to my ears. I
blocked everything out except for the empty stretch of road in front of me. Don't look back, don't look back, I
whispered to myself. I pretended I was that guy in Greek mythology who had to rescue hsi girl, but I couldn't look back.
And I didn't. Even though every part of my body protested, and my head twitched towards the back of my shouder, I kept
going. My legs cramped up, as did my stomach and heart. But I had to keep moving. Or die.
SO focused I was on escaping, I didn't notice the guy in front of me till I crashed into him. And then I was clawing at
himn, scraping at his shirt, trying to get him out of my way because, hell, I was in danger of losing my life. And he
was gripping my wrists, pulling them together at his chest, hugging me, saying, "You're safe," over and over.
It was twenty minutes later that it finally clicked into place.
I sighed slightly, the sound breathless and edgy as it came from my lips. I glanced at the paper in front of me as the
words blurred together as I, once again, was about to collapse under the stress of senior finals. I fuck this up, I
don't graduate in three weeks. I barely pass, I lose my scholarship. And I'm the idiot that didn't study.
Burying my head into the crook of my arm, I closed my eyes and sighed again, trying to recall everything I learned
about protons, electrons, neutrons, atoms, and various other scientifical things. Nothing came, and I was forced to then
pick my head back up, and use the remaning ten minutes of class to bull-shit and guess my way through the final.
I was losing that scholarship at the least.
Not graduating at the most.
The bell rung. I grabbed my purse, my booksack, and lugged my shit through the classroom, thinking about whether or
not I shoudl stay for Algebra tutoring today. I had an 100 A, and the next final on it was fairly easy. I figured I
would just pass and go home. Plus, I had a date with my bed, and a killer headache.
Teeth clamped down on my shoulder. With an angry shriek, I slapped at the head, knowing it was one of the popular jock
boys that were starting a new, biting fad. And not just biting, but drawing blood biting. I swear, they're vampire
idiots. Turning around, I bit down hard on the neck of whoever it was. Beneath my teeth, I could taste the faint taste
of sweat, the sour taste of cologne, and another taste that was better than the both. I knew I drew blood when something
metallic touched my mouth. I removed my teeth and ran to the nearest water fountain, spitting in it.
Behind me, I could hear laughing. A boy, the one who had saved me that night, was rubbing his neck, looking shocked. I
glared at him, stomping over to him against the pounding in my head, which seemed to increase when I got nearer. I
grabbed his wrist, glaring at himn hotly. "Don't bit me again. My bite's harder, and I'll draw more blood than just your
damn neck next time, okay? Love you, too." I turned on my hell, ignoring the catcalls and whispers of "Feisty" said