* Content warning - Abandonment & Suicide/death *

"How did you know my name when we first met?" It was a simple question, but one that had been on my mind for a while. "You can tell me the truth, Ethan."

"I told you. My father knows your dad. They've been friends for years," Ethan replied.

Resting my head against the wall, I couldn't look him in the eyes, afraid I would express too much emotion hidden deep within. "You've never mentioned your father, and I know Amelia is your half-sister. At least be honest with me now."

"My mum still kept in touch with your dad. Richard used to do care packages, like nothing fancy, just photographs. Amelia would come back every three months to renew her visa and transport the photos back and forth." Ethan half-smiled, tilting his head to the side to witness my reaction.

Johnathan was a few years younger than my dad, so it made sense that they still kept in touch. Two cities, two different worlds connected by a thread of friendship and history.

Ethan continued, "I think the last picture he sent of you was from a production you did at school. You wore a crazy, brown, long wig and a piece of what looked like a net curtain for a dress."

Mortified that Ethan had seen photographs of me during most of my adolescence and possibly my childhood, I covered my mouth in horror. "God, that was when I was playing Miranda from 'The Tempest'. That was also a couple of months before I got sick." I hadn't discussed my diagnosis with him or with anyone, apart from Amelia and Johnathan. I couldn't find the right words, and each time I tried, they became jumbled.

Ethan chewed on his lip, lost for words before his usual, jokey self came to light. "I have to say, your baby pictures are the cutest."

Oh, God. Please don't tell me he's seen my naked baby arse in the bathtub.

Covering my face with my hands, I squealed in embarrassment. "Please say you're joking." That was something my dad would do.

The corner of his eyes crinkled as he laughed, highlighting the mole below his lower eyelid. "I'm kidding." His fingers twitched, edging towards my hand until our fingers interlaced. "I put two and two together. You didn't exactly disagree, either. You could've called yourself Sarah for all I cared."

Fair play.

"I don't understand why you would lie about that?" He was mysterious and vague since the first day I met him, and now he was the one keeping secrets.

He peered at me with watchful eyes, surveying my reaction. "The relationship you have with your dad is something I've wanted with mine. He talks about you with my mum, and seeing the photographs of you together hit a sore spot, I guess." Sighing, he fumbled with his hands, still fighting the numbness of the sedative. "Once my father found out my mum was pregnant, he left."

"Left, how? He wouldn't be able to cross the borders," I replied, curious. Unless he was a vampire, then he had a free pass.

Rolling his head, he glanced up at the ceiling. "He wasn't ready for parenthood. I guess he decided, stepping over the barrier was the better decision."

My blood ran cold from the lack of emotion and the meaning behind his words. Dad crossed the borders, but he had to sacrifice a man's life for his freedom. Ethan's dad took the same decision but sacrificed himself rather than be a father.

"I'm so sorry, Ethan."

What more could I say? There are no words for this situation or heartbreak.

My hand overlapped his, squeezing his fingers and praying for his sense of feeling to return.

Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I made my choice. I don't want to be a vampire, Erika."

"What do you mean?" My voice broke as the words hurried out of my mouth. "If you don't drink human blood, you will die." The small plastic bottle grew warm from my clammy hand.

His jaw trembled as he held his composure together. "I almost hurt you back there. If somebody hadn't intervened, I have no clue what would've happened, and I can't go through that again."

A sickening wave of acid churned in my stomach from the prospect of Ethan not being here anymore. His empty gaze went through me like a blast of ice, plummeting into the depths of my soul.

He thinks this is our last goodbye. 

"That wasn't you. That was the bloodlust talking." I had to make Ethan see that this wasn't his fault and that he was still in control.

"Even so," his eyes locked with mine through the mirror, "you will have to leave before I regain full-body movement."

My blood was Ethan's lifeline, his saviour. I weighed the pros and cons of the choice I had to make.

If I force him, he will hate me for the rest of his vampire lifetime. If I let him die by his choice, then Fiona and Samuel will never forgive me. 

Pins and needles escalated through my fingers and travelled down my arms. A dense sensation spread across my hands, tiny silver capillaries slithered under my skin as numbness took over. I had seen this before when the vampire entered decomposition, immobilising him completely. My body was breaking down, one of the first signs of decay. It wouldn't be long until I lost the full use of my arm.

Who knows? Maybe I'll be drinking non-alcoholic Eggnog with Akrsna, reading 'The Kite Runner,' and playing scrabble. 

Screeching reverberated down the narrow hallway outside Samuel's office. You could tell the difference between the ordinary vampires and the sounds of the Igneous vampires from their high-pitched animalistic tones.

Silencing Ethan, I reached for the duffel bag and pried it open with my mouth as numbness crept into my fingers.

Holding my breath, I waited for the vampire on the other side of the door, twisting the door handle and seizing the stake between my wrists.

A/N

Word Count: 1,008

Erika's getting weaker, but will she be able to save the people she cares about, or will she have to face her biggest fear yet?

Ethan lied, but why do you think he waited until now to tell Erika about his dad?

Have a fangtastic day!

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