My Vampire by light-in-darkness

My vampire would come to me at night not for blood but for life. In the dank darkness of my room, I would lie. The sheets smelled of mildew, my pajamas of old sweat. Tears would crest my eyes. I'd wait. There was little else I could do.

My mother had taught me of the vampires long ago, how they had no real corporal form. They were more of a dark dust that would gather on top of you, and they wouldn't feed from your neck but from your ankles. And then you'd feel it squeeze out of you, the happiness and energy that comes with being alive. When you'd wake, you'd find yourself a little paler, a little more bloodshot.

And then would come the cravings. At first, they'd be easy to satisfy. People would take pity on your sadness. They'd take you out for ice cream or a movie. They'd feed you with their embraces, consoling words and smiles. They'd let you cry over your shoulder. You've become plump with new life, ready to feed that night terror.

But eventually, people would grow tired. They'd realize you were feeding off of them, and they'd become distant and cold. They'd screen your phone calls. And maybe you could lengthen their openness to you by going a few days without, but that would mean letting the demon suck you dryer, to levels you didn't know possible.

Eventually, you'd attach yourself to anyone. You'd accept any harsh treatment just to get at the good stuff. And it would get harder and harder.

The more dry you became, the darker the bruises on your ankles would become. And if you were really empty, they might actually bleed.

My mother had dealt with her vampire for 6 years while living with her uncle. It was a sore subject to talk about, something that would either cause her tears or anger. Dad said they were the same thing.

"You know dogs are like that too?" he'd say. "When they've been beaten enough, they get an angry bark and they might even bite, but it's because they're scared. It's because they're victims."

Mom would say she wouldn't want anyone's pity, but if she got to talking about it, the way to get close to her was through sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Mom. That should never have happened to you."

Sometimes she'd still be angry and wouldn't let me touch her. But most of the time, the tears would begin to pour out her eyes. She'd grab me by the arm and pull me in quickly. I knew if it hurt, I could not say anything. And then she'd sob into me until she'd apologize and try to be strong again.

She'd look me in the eye, and say, "Well, I did defeat it, didn't I? I killed my vampire, and now he'll never harm anyone again." And then she'd run her hand over my cheek affectionately. "I'm so glad you don't have to worry about it. You've got it so good. I won't ever let you experience what I went through. You know that."

The first night the vampire came, I wasn't sure what was happening. I knew, when looking down at my sheets, everything seemed darker. I didn't know if something was wrong with my eyes or what. And then I'd feel it, the stabbing pain in my ankles. I let out a whimper and immediately knew what it was. And I couldn't fight it. I couldn't resist. The happiness drained down out of me. Only crying seemed to slow it down.
And then the demon lifted its shadowy head. The pain dulled, and it looked at me. It was nothing but a shadow, with a dark substance dripping from its fangs. I breathed in a panic and then it ran straight to my closet.

Only then could I cry loudly, and cry loudly I did.

"Mom! Mom!" I yelled like a young child.

And then I jumped out of my bed. It hurt to stand. I hobbled into the hallway and knocked on my parents' door before collapsing.

"Mom! Mom!" And then I just cried. I sobbed.

Mom opened the door and brought me into her arms. And though she asked me what happened, I couldn't speak through my tears for a long time until finally, I whimpered out, "Vampire. A vampire fed off of me."

Something snapped within my mother at that moment. She grew hard, stiff. Her arms fell from me. I was more of leaning into her, grasping for her to hold me while she refused.

"Mom! Mom! Please," I'd cry.

And then she pushed me away and said sternly, "Don't. Lie. To. Me."
She slammed the door in my face, and then I heard her sobbing on the other side and calling for my father. And she was talking to him about the terrible pain I'd just caused her.

I heard my mother cry, "How could she do this to me? How could she joke about such a thing? She doesn't understand a thing of what I went through, and now she mocks me!"
My dad offered her his typical consoling words as I sat alone on the carpet in the hallway, horrified. I shivered by myself, totally numb, and about 20 minutes later, I heard my Dad say he needed to check up on me. Mother protested.

"Don't you understand? I need you now. You can't leave me."

But eventually, he popped his head out the doorway. "Honey, you need to go to bed. You've really upset your mother. We'll talk later."

"But – "

"Later. Right now, we all need sleep."

I went to bed more empty than before. I lay down, feeling sore and numb. A part of me wondered if the vampire would feed off of me a second time. But I just cried myself to sleep.

Late in the morning, my mom stormed through the doorway. "You're late! You have school. Get up!"

She flung the drapes over the windows wide open and turned on the light.
"Five minutes," she said. "If you're not ready, I'm dragging you to the car in your pajamas.

I decided not to fight her. The craving for affection was so strong, I didn't want to make it worse by getting on her bad side. I needed her to feed me love and affection. But the entire drive to school, she lectured me on what a horrible daughter I was, on what I was causing her to suffer.

I was barely out the car door when she sped away, leaving me in front of my high school. No one was outside as it was already the middle of second period.

Life like this pretty much continued throughout the week. The vampire would feed, and I'd feel more empty. I'd try to be as compliant with everyone just to feed my hunger. But by Friday, I was so empty, I was like a zombie walking through school.
I sat at my desk, totally oblivious to the fact that my teacher was calling my name. Finally, I was sent to the principal's office, and then my mother was called. I don't know what they talked about. I didn't really care. I just wanted to avoid my room. I wanted it all to be over.

And then she came out with a smile on her face.

"Honey, we're leaving. Let's go."

I followed her out the door and to the car. Only when we were out of earshot, did she say, "Let's get ice cream and see a movie."

I didn't protest. It sounded wonderful.

And after the movie, she stopped at the grocery store for just one item and lots of it – garlic. My eyes widened as I looked up at her.

"You believe me," I said.

She rolled her eyes, gave me a strange smile and said nothing. The garlic was put on string and strung all around my room. I was so happy. She was protecting me.

That night I went to bed without fear. I still felt terrible. I still felt starved for love and life. Tears offered some relief, but I knew it was over. I'd recover.

And then the night came. And sleep came. And then . . . Pain. Terrible, terrible pain stabbed deeply into my ankles. I opened my eyes and let out a whimper. The heaviness of the darkness lying over top me was too much to bear. It felt impossible to breathe. Had it just started now? Or had I only woken when it'd gotten too bad?

But I wanted it to end. I wanted it to finally kill me. But of course, it wouldn't. Vampires didn't kill you like in the movies. They made you want to kill yourself. And so as it happened, I thought of knives, razors, pills. The thoughts were both frightening and alluring at once.

When the vampire released me, my ankles hurt more than ever before. I touched the spots and winced. It wasn't bleeding, but it felt like a deep bruise.
I cried for my mother again. Called her to me. And she came.
"Mom," I cried. "It was here. It was feeding off me. The garlic didn't – "
And then she slapped me right across the cheek. I fell back into my pillow and cried.
"What do you want? More garlic? Some wooden stakes? A crucifix?" she said. "When will you be satisfied? You have no idea how much you are hurting me."

I shook my head.

"I don't want to hurt you, Mama."

"What? What? Are you a baby now? Oh? Do you need me to pamper you?" And then she took on a strange hostile tone. She sat on my bed and tried to cradle me in her arms. I could feel how much she wanted to hurt me by the way she held me. And she mocked my crying. "Oh. Boo hoo hoo. Baby is so sad. Baby needs a diaper change."
"Mom, please," I said. "Look at my ankle."

And then she threw me aside.

"You want to see an ankle? You want to see real evidence of a vampire?"

She turned on the light and thrust her foot in my face. And there it was, actual scar tissue near her heel.

"That's what a vampire does!"

"Mom, please!"

And before leaving the room and slamming my door shut, she said, "I'm so ashamed of you."

The following day, I skipped school. I did the only thing I knew I could do. I got supplies. I didn't know if any of them would work. What good would a stake be against a shadowy form? Was there even anybody to actually stab?

But I got everything I could. I got home before my parents, made my room smell even more of garlic and incense. I kept both a silver and wooden knife under my pillow. I placed a cross around my neck and even ate a raw garlic clove.

Then I apologized to mom. I pretended I had lied just to be fed a little bit of affection. I asked if I could make it up to her by taking her out. And she enjoyed it. We left Dad alone and had our girl's night out. Mom was happy. I was good at pretending. I looked for excuses to hug her. I tried to weasel my way into hearing her compliment me. And she'd give me scraps here and there, but mostly she was far better at getting me to pet her ego than I was.

We went to bed totally exhausted that night. I didn't know if I actually had energy left to attack my demon. But I kept my hands fisted over the daggers behind my pillow. And I kept my eyes open, staring at the open closet door.

At midnight, the dark mist started to rise out of it. I sniffled a bit and waited till the darkness was billowing over the bottom of my bed. Then I curled my feet and gradually sat up. Adrenaline ran through me as the form took shape. It was large and monstrous. I didn't know where to thrust, but I grabbed the first dagger I could, lifted it over my head, closed my eyes, and screamed out as I thrusted.

A part of me expected to fall forward, to fall through the thing, but I landed on something solid. It was lying on my bed, and I kept stabbing it over and over. I could feel hot sticky wetness all over my hands and arms. I kept at it. Warm tears streamed down my cheeks, and in that moment, it was like my life swarmed out of its body and wrapped all around me. A smile grew on my face. I was doing it. I was conquering my vampire.

And when I was too tired to move anymore, I opened my eyes, took a second to digest the scene and screamed.

My mother's lifeless body lay beneath me, her mouth open in a horrifying expression. Two tubules dangled down from her mouth like fangs, and they were dripping a dark black substance.

Her blood was all over me. And as I wondered if she knew what she was, I rolled my tongue over the inside of my mouth. But no, there. And there. Two bumps sat on the inside just behind my teeth. The dread conquered all the fleeting happiness in me, and I was hungry again. I sobbed hard, hoping for some relief, and I kept imagining myself waking from this dark nightmare.
But instead the hunger turned to agony and the tubules grew down in my mouth. I fed on my father before leaving home, and the guilt I've felt after every feeding since has only made me more hungry.

I just want to be happy. After all, I am a victim, too. Can't people understand that?