Arizona is a Vampire Mecca

It only makes sense that a desert state where citizens only leave their houses when the sun goes down would be a haven for vampires.


I Remember Peter Pan…

I remember him like a dream. He came to my window to hear me tell the stories. I couldn’t sleep and no one cared to read to me so I made up my own stories and told them out loud. For a while it was just me and the girl who slept in the next bed. Her name was Sophie. She was a few years younger than I was and she was totally freaked out when the lights went out. I started off telling her stories from Disney movies I remembered. A few weeks later, I noticed that he stood on our ledge, listening to me talk from our window. Considering I was paralized, I was in no position to chase him away so I made the stories more elaborate. I included pirates and Indians and lots of action. He eventually started to trust me and came closer and closer while I told the stories to Sophie. I didn’t know his name so, keeping with the Disney theme, I called him Peter. He was exactly what Wendy would have fallen for. He had blonde hair and sky blue eyes. He was beautiful in every way. I caught him spying on me one afternoon. I was so thirsty and Sophie was at school. Peter was at the window and I called out to him to help me get a drink of water. He opened the window, careful not to make any noise or they would come in. The machine that held me was pointing me toward the floor but I felt him watching me. He crawled in carefully, moving so quietly like a ghost. He found the pitcher they kept on the table next to me and poured me a glass of water. He brought the straw to my mouth and I felt the heaven that was the cold, clean water coming through the straw. My gratitude would have made me do anything for him at that point. I tried to say the words, to say “thank you,” but, for some reason, my vocal chords still could not make the sound. I could not even move my hands to touch him. He reached out to me. He touched my cheek. A single tear slid down my right eye and onto his hand. In that moment, I was a million miles away yet so close to him that I wanted to scream. How long had it been since someone heard my voice. Why was it so important to me that he heard me? I lived with Sophie for how long and it had become a fact of life that she would never hear me speak except at night when she cried herself to sleep. Why did it hurt me so bad to be mute in front of this boy? Why did I care so much? At that moment, I saw all of my answers in him. He knew me. He wanted to tell me so much, but someone was coming down the hall. He kissed my cheek and as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

No Second Dates

The secret to not letting anyone know what I do for a living is the black nail polish. There is nothing worse than trying to explain the dried blood that is permanently embedded in my fingernails. No, I am not a nurse. No, I am not an EMT. Yes, I kill vampires for a living. Somehow, that just doesn’t carry the necessary clout during a dinner conversation. I don’t have many second dates because, quite frankly, I don’t think I owe anyone who judges me for what I do a second date. Really? You don’t sleep better knowing that I am out there, ridding the world of evil? What kind of pussy are you? You can’t have it both ways. You either accept me for the vampire staking bitch that I am or you can go fuck yourself. If that is too honest, I have nothing for you.

This just needs to be posted somewhere…

weathereye: I’m reading the Old Testament, but I’m sitting in a strip club, so they cancel each other out.

GAB: I recommend Ezekiel for that situation, not least because it’s a surrealist book for what is so clearly a surreal situation.

“Ezekiel saw the wheel” becomes “Ezekiel saw the pole way up in the middle of the stage.”

“And the bones came together” becomes “And the boobs came together.”

“Separating the sheep from the goats” becomes “Separating the sheep from their dollar bills.”

(I could go on, but I won’t…)

weathereye: Sorry, I’m just at the part where God makes a chick out of a dude’s rib. That’s hardcore. If I’d known there was stuff like this, I would have read this thing a long time ago.

Isn’t there a murder coming up? And giants, and a talking snake? This stuff rocks.

Feeling Old

I attmpt to climb out of bed and start my day but this horrible, blinding headache stops me. I think every part of my body hurts right now. Was the party that good last night? I don’t remember drinking so why do I feel like I have the worst hangover in history? I slowly lift my hands to my face so my brain doesn’t slosh aroud anymore and see that they are covered in dry blood that is actually starting to flake off onto my crisp, white sheets. Then I remember. Yes, I went to a party. No, I didn’t drink. There was a fight. There was a lot of screaming and running. Did I kill two or three vampires last night? My accountant is going to shit when he gets the bill from the owner of that car. Apparently, vampires are not faster than an Audi R8 and I doubt that it will be covered by insurance.

The Beginning

I had the dream again last night. I wake up and all I can see is the ceiling. I can’t move my head to look around. I can’t feel my fingers or toes. When I blink my eyes, I start to focus and realize I can hear a slow beeping noise. I then notice that I have a tube up my nose. I am connected to machines. That beeping is a heart monitor. I am in a hospital. I start to panic and the beeping is getting faster. That’s when I see him. His face is right next to mine. He is whispering to me but I can’t really hear what he is saying. He kisses my cheek and disappears. I feel the tears stinging my eyes. I wake up crying.