In Love With a Vampire

Chapter Twenty-One

Jim



When I was thirteen I snuck into my father’s office and rummaged his drawers for a pack of cigarettes. I had seen a commercial earlier in the day about how cigarettes made everything better. The group of teenagers in the commercial had gone from wearing ugly sweaters and baggy trousers to leather jackets and cool tight pants. Also, everyone seemed to love them. Since I was in a stage where I needed to be liked because of my lanky frame and multiple pimples, I had decided to search every inch of our house for a pack. I too wanted a cool leather jacket and to wear black sunglasses indoors. The plan was to start in my father’s office. He liked to hide his smoking from us but I had caught him on several evenings blowing smoke through the attic’s window. Both mother and father were at some event that night, shaking hands, giving everyone pseudo smiles, and promising things my father could not fulfill. I spent an hour going through my father’s office and came up empty. I was about to give up and go to my room to play loud punk music when I stepped on a creaky floorboard. It was unusual considering the rest of the office floors were sturdy, noiseless. I stepped on the loose floorboard once more and smiled when the creaking sound echoed throughout the room.

Jackpot.

I quickly got on my knees, my eyes desperately searching for a way to pull back the loose pieces of wood. From time to time I glanced at the door, knowing that my parents would be back home soon. After a few failed trials, I retrieved a hunting knife from my pocket and used it to lift the floorboard. I felt a jolt of excitement run through me; finally, I could get actual friends and get rid of Larry. I was too old for imaginary friends. I froze when I heard the sound of a car approaching. I swiftly reached down the thin gap and tapped around hoping to feel something that was shaped like a box. I gave a quiet whoop when I felt something seconds later. Except this was no pack of cigarettes. Whatever my hand had made contact with was cool and sharp, a knife? Why keep a knife down there? My mother was not opposed to having weapons in the house. In fact, she owned a gun. The front door opened just as I was about to retrieve the knife. Stricken with panic, I let go of the weapon and squinted my eyes to get a glimpse of this secret knife. Perhaps it was worth something? Some kind of artifact? I heard my mother’s giddy laughter and my father’s lowered voice; they were making their way upstairs. I quickly returned the floorboard to its original place and stood up to leave. Slowly, I opened the office door, whipped my head back and forth to catch the sight of my parents, then dashed toward my room when I did not see them.

I recall huffing and puffing half of the night, angry that I had not been able to get my father’s pack of cigarettes. I remember swearing to buy one from the big kids the following day so that I could officially get rid of Larry and maybe even impress a girl in our class.

I also recall thinking I had never seen such a badass knife in my entire life. I never saw that knife again, even though I snuck into my father’s office to scout for it the following day. With time, I had forgotten all about my father’s hidden knife.

* * *

At first, it all felt like a dream, an intense action-packed dream. That would explain how I had stuck a knife in a man’s neck and how I had watched roof girl slowly die. I sat up in my bed and scanned my room. Everything seemed to be in place. I c****d my ears searching for sounds of a lively party, all was quiet. What the f**k had happened? I recalled dancing with the roof girl. I recalled following her up the stairs and then…I quickly reached for the back of my head and groaned when I touched the swelling. All of it had been real. The man holding the knife and moving toward roof girl. Me attacking him from behind, grabbing the same knife and sticking it into the man’s neck. Me crouching in front of roof girl, watching her struggle to breathe, confused about the blood around her mouth, panicking because I could see her fighting for her life. I had made a decision to call my father and…darkness. I suddenly pushed myself from my bed ignoring the heaviness at the back of my head. I had to find out if roof girl was okay. I had to find out of the man I had stabbed was alive. And what of Sean? Was he safe? Were my parents safe? Who was that man and why was he after Donna? An image flashed in my head, an image of a bleeding neck. Yes, I had spotted that particular wound, I recalled thinking what animal could do such a thing. Another memory surfaced and I groaned, these images taking a toll on my heavy head. This time I saw the knife, the knife that I had held in my hands, the knife I had used to protect roof girl with. The knife I had seen years ago in my father’s office. I had to find out what was going on, I could feel my mind veering to insanity.

I stretched my arm and placed my hand around the doorknob. I twisted it and waited for the familiar click sound indicating that it was open but it never came. I proceeded to jiggle it. At first, I did the act lightly but then a wave of panic hit me and my actions turned aggressive. Within seconds I was pounding against my bedroom door yelling for help. What if the man that had attacked me had proceeded to hurt roof girl and my family?

“Father? Father!”

No footsteps. No bellows. No sound. I shifted my body and searched my room for my phone. I could call 911, my father was running for mayor, surely they would arrive at our residence in minutes and…and do what? What was going on? I could not see my phone. I turned back to the door and began pounding again, this time yelling Sean’s name. My heartbeat accelerated when once again I heard nothing. I abandoned the door and rushed to my window. I drew back the drapes and attempted to lift the bottom part of the window.

A glance downwards informed me that the window had been bolted shut.

“What the f**k…”

My mind went blank when I heard the doorknob jiggle. I had no way of getting out of this room. I had no way of contacting the police. I was on my own. With that thought, I rushed toward my bed, knelt on the cool floor, and retrieved my baseball bat from under my bed. I then remained in that position and waited. The door creaked open and someone walked in. The footsteps were soft, soundless. My room was dark given that it was still nighttime and it had not occurred to me to turn on the lights when I woke up. I squinted my eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person’s shoes, see if I could maybe recognize them. It was an odd thought, as if I could recognize the shoes of a criminal.

To my amazement, I did.

“For fucksakes James stand up…”

I did and came face to face with my father.

“What is going on? Where is Sean? Where is mother?”

“Went to stay over at your aunt’s…Don’t worry they are safe.”

He said this so nonchalantly, as if all this, what was happening was normal.

“What is going on Father? Why did you lock me in here?”

“Are you going to automatically assume I locked you in here?”

I remained quiet and tightened my grip around my baseball bat.

“Really? A baseball bat?”

I shrugged.

“Listen, I did this for your own good. When I found you on the floor...”

He paused, averted his gaze, and ran a hand through his hair.

“I have never been so scared in my entire life…”

His voice changed. It was no longer callous, hollow. Now it was wavering, laced with a mixture of emotions. I loosened my grip on the baseball bat.

“Tell me what happened tonight son…what did you see?”

My father had not called me son in a year. Something was wrong, I tightened my grip around the baseball bat.

“I came upstairs wanted to smoke and you know how mother is... Wouldn’t want her precious guests to see her f****d up son smoke…”

My father did not respond. He just stared at me with his head angled to the side.

“And then…”

He stepped forward, his eyes intense, his nostrils flaring.

“Then what? What did you see son?”

There it was again. The word son, and this time I was certain it was not an endearment.

“You know how I am…Could not wait to reach my room so I lit one of my weed rolls as I was coming up the stairs…shit must have been strong cause I blacked out.”

It was fast but I caught it; a flicker of rage in my father’s eyes. I held my ground and refused to blink. I was not sure what was going on but I was certain of one thing, my father was not innocent in any of it.

“Your turn. Why was I locked in here? Why is my window bolted shut?”

My father stayed quiet for a while before an eerie smile made its way to his lips.

“Well James, you know how you are…You like lighting up your weed rolls and that s**t must have been strong, so much so that you imagined yourself being locked in your own bedroom.”

I gave a humorless chuckle and shook my head. My father mirrored my actions. After what seemed like a lifetime, he turned to leave.

“Some of my friends say they saw you dancing with a girl…very pretty I hear, new in town. Was she up here with you?”

I rapidly shook my head without hesitation.

“I see…if I were you, I would steer clear from that one…”

“And why is that father?”

“I can always tell a good seed from a bad seed James…”

“I thought your friends were the ones who saw her with me…”

“I am your father James…and believe it or not, I do care for you. Stay away from that girl…Remember how I gave you the same advice about Sara but you did not listen? Heed me this time.”

I watched as my father slowly exited the room. He paused at the door, jiggled the doorknob vanished from sight. After he left, I released the baseball bat and dashed toward my closet. My father’s warning was not meant for me, it was meant for roof girl. I had to find her.