2

Kate

Dying was pretty fucking unfun. Nathan’s fangs were in my neck before I could say yes, or no, or whatever I was going to say, but there was no pain. A thick numbness spread from the bite. My skin buzzed and prickled, my eyes pulsed. My heart beat against my ribcage like a prisoner of my too-small body. I’m dying.

I wriggled. He released his grip - I think. I couldn’t feel much of anything. My vision was blurry and red, so, so very red. All i saw or felt was scarlet and numb, jello-y limbs flopping about around me. I dropped to the ground at some point in my haze. I wasn’t sure if I was breathing.

And then it all went black.

I woke up on Nathan’s bed. As my eyes focused, they fell upon Nathan’s back. He was hunched over his desk, scribbling away happily at something.

His room was a perfect square, filled floor to ceiling with clutter. Cluttered walls, plastered with posters for things Kate knew Nathan didn’t really like all that much, cluttered shelves and two desks - one of which was under the window, the other by the door - all covered in figures and papers and the occasional article of clothing. The floors looked like the spillover from the desks and- that fucking batbitchturnedmeintoafuckingvampirewhatthefuck.

I flew off the bed and immediately fell into a pile of gods-know-what, cloth something or other which I immediately got tangled in. My limbs were jelly. My mouth was sore. Fuck my mouth. I was going to get fucking fangs. A goddamn set of needle teeth to pop out at will to-

Gods…

I became slowly aware of Nathan at my side saying…something. His face looked like the face he made when he read off love letters - gods that fucking kid loved his love letters, more than he loved me even - so I figured he was saying something sweet or whatever. He reached out a hand to help me up and I batter him away. I meant to slap his hand but I ended up just batting in his general direction like he was a bothersome fly I was shooing away.

“What the fuck,” I bit out.

“You’re….transformation……time….” whatever he was saying probably wasn’t important anyway.

Consciousness dropped out of me again.

It was morning when I woke up again. Which morning it happened to be was a fucking mystery. My eyelids were heavy and my vision was tinted with a red haze once more. Nathan is laying beside me, heavy and cold in the bed. He turned over with a groan and snaked an arm around me, pulling me close.

I imagined, briefly, Nathan putting me back into his bed, sleeping next to me like I was a muscular and painfully literal body pillow. Guilt followed the disgust that thought sparked.

“Nathan,” I said sweetly.

“Mmhm,” he nuzzled into my back.

“Get the fuck off of me.”

I wasn’t planning to say that. The words burned as they left my mouth. More guilty regret pooled in my gut as he let go of me, shifting behind me on the bed to prop himself up.

“What’s wrong?”

What the fuck do you mean ‘what’s wrong'?!

“Just…don’t feel like being touched.” Was it a lie? I wasn’t sure then, or ever after.

He responds by stroking my hair, taking the shiny black strands between his fingers, and playing with the bunt ends. “You’ll still age, you know,” he says almost wistfully, “We vampires get to age very, very slowly, but we do age.”

“I know.” I hadn’t. Vampirism was a rare and new affliction. The only way to really know anything about them was to acquire the affliction, which no many people did willingly because it meant-

“FUCK!”

I darted up, glaring at Nathan, who sat bewildered on the bed, his hand still poised above where my head had been. The red haze grew more intense, nearly blinding me as I shoved Nathan off the bed.

“You fucking glitter-drinking twat-faced piece of shit!” I ranted, “You ignoroant, stupid, lifeless, bat-bitch of a boyfriend! Fucking whore. Inconsiderate shithead!”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” he had managed to get to his feet and was holding his hands up, walking around the bed toward me. “What happened?”

“My fucking magic happened,”my eyes stung but somehow I knew I wouldn’t be able to cry, “How the fuck could you take that away from me-” an unbidden sob choked off the end of my rant, and my hand when to my mouth. Nathan moved toward me. I only realized later that I hear him moving toward me, being unable to see through the fog of red that obscured my vision.

Nathan pulled me into his arms and I elbowed him in the ribs. “No! No you don’t fucking- I fucking- Fuck you!” I shoved him again and turned toward the door, throwing it open and leaving.

I make it somewhere, some alley in some dirty, deserted neighborhood that looked just like Nathan’s but wasn’t. I sank to the ground, dry, painful sobs wracking through me. The air should be thick with magic, the light wavering and shifting with my pain, but there’s nothing. The world is empty and lifeless and- No. I’m empty. I’m fucking dead, as lifeless as a fucking rock, dead with a cruel ‘un’ tacked on the top half. Like a bad joke. I was a bad joke. The ‘NOT’ shouted by some ten year old on the playground.

I’m done. Done being alive. Done with magic. Done with Nathan. And only one of those was my choice.

It was a long walk home. I’d left my phone at home - my foster parents had some ‘find my family’ app or something on it - so there was no calling home. Or an ambulance. Not that this could be undone.

The finality sank in around me, suffocating me. No going back. Why hadn’t I resisted? Why hadn’t I said no? Nathan would have stopped if I’d just said something. This never would have happened. I’d still be able to feel the magic in the air. I’d still be alive.

But I did nothing.

I did nothing and now I’m dead.