Vampires Suck (2)

FABIAN

My vampire life must be getting entirely too boring. A few minutes ago, I heard – or rather, I felt someone falling at my door. That doesn’t seem to happen every day so I rushed to see who it was and what he or she’s business might be.

To my surprise, it was just a clumsy young girl. She seemed to be still in highschool and at first I didn’t notice her nice features. Long wavy hair that reached her waist, the colour of honey, green eyes with the feeling of spring to them, full lips and rosy cheeks, it was a refreshing kind of beauty, one that loved to be bathed in the sun. I felt my lips curling in a smile as I realized the boxes around her meant she was moving in the empty apartment next door.

Yet, she didn’t like me from what I could tell. She didn’t even say a word as I carried the boxes for her. When I turned to face her, wanting to introduce myself, she seemed more than annoyed. Ugh, the vampire-go-away-crap. But I thought it was kind of fun watching her get mad at me for helping her, while she couldn’t understand her own feelings. I’ve witnessed such scenes so many times, none of which had bothered me in the slightest. Until now.

At least, I had the inspiration to leave before she could throw something at me.

So, I went back to listening to SOAD.

I could sense her anger at me even through the walls. It made me feel good in a perverse way. Was I thirsty for blood? No, of course not, I had just drunken some yesterday. Then, why did this girl remain in my thoughts?

I decided I didn’t care. I was bored, but not that bored.

the 8th of August, 2010

LAILA

Ahh, this is the life.

You know, I never thought of the benefits of living alone. I think If I had, I would have moved out a long time ago. Well, not exactly to this sort of place, but still. With dad, I could never sleep until afternoon and eat pizza for breakfast. Or listen to my iPod in the bath tub. Or paint the walls of my room. Anyway, you get the picture.

So, mostly, besides the fact that I have no idea where my father is or what he’s doing right now, I feel awesome. An independent woman, at last.

Okay, I can’t believe I just said – wrote that.

In his letter, dad said he would contact me later. He used to work for some secret agency I never bothered to ask about since he couldn’t exactly tell me about it. He actually met mom on one of his missions, this I know. During my childhood, we used to change homes a lot. It was fine while mom was alive, but it became a burden after she wasn’t there anymore. I mean, I became a burden to my dad. Or more specifically, to his job. So he quit.

Well, he didn’t exactly quit. In these kinds of jobs you can’t just retire whenever you want to. Especially when you know things. THINGS that others aren’t supposed to know. Dad had to change our identities after that and we settled in NY. Too obvious? Neah, you’d be surprised how people never bother to look for you in the most obvious hide-out places.

Ever since I was a little girl, I have been taught to obey orders. At least important ones, not the wash-the-dishes-or-you’re-grounded type of orders. I understood the gravity of things and the eventuality of us being discovered. And that’s why I can’t help feeling uneasy. The only reason why dad would do this to me is if we’ve been found out.

I am in no danger since I’m a civilian and everything. But dad is now branded as a traitor – and as you can see in all Hollywood movies – being a traitor has a price. A big one.

It would be nice to have someone to talk to. Someone who could grasp the situation and not just focus on the fact that I have been using a fake identity for the past 8 years. I mean, I only changed my surname. That’s not such a big deal. Other women do it all the time when they get married.

I didn’t have many friends back home. Not real friends, anyway. I wasn’t a hater or anything, but I just had this strange habit of spacing out.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, someone to talk to. At this point, I swear I’d talk to freaking Oprah. Anyone would do. Wait, anyone except that smug jerk that lives next to me. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen him or heard that loud music of his since the day after I moved in. It’s dead quiet. He couldn’t be, you know, dead, right? Suicide is a common occurrence in our days. But he didn’t quite strike me as the suicidal type, more like the homicidal one. And what reason would a guy with his looks have to end his life? Maybe that attitude of his.

Oh well, at least it’s quiet.

the 15th of August, 2010

LAILA

I’m honestly starting to wonder whether it will start to smell. You know, that horrid smell of a body in decay. Oh, well, I assume you don’t actually KNOW. Me either. But I’m expecting a strong smell to creep into my apartment soon now. Seriously.

It’s been two weeks. I haven’t heard the door open once. Since I stayed at home, except for short walks to the market, I am positively sure he hasn’t left the apartment at all. And these walls are paper thin, I think if I concentrated enough I could even hear him breathe.

Nothing, absolutely nothing. And I keep getting this weird vibe, you know, the kind that haunted houses give off. So now I’m sure I’m crazy. I’ve always been a sucker for Sci-Fi, but this is just way too much.

The dead can’t carry boxes, can they? And they sure as hell wouldn’t look like that. Argh, what is wrong with my brain cells? I’m actually obsessed with a guy I saw for only 5 minutes. And in the most morbid way, possible, too.

This is all because I don’t know anyone here. I’ve got to widen my horizons or next thing you know, I’ll end up flying off a building.

But is it normal for it to be so quiet???

Not in NY, it wasn’t. Sigh.

FABIAN

I can sense a very gloomy atmosphere from next door. Just what is that girl doing? I liked it better when the pot-smoking humans lived there. At least they “chilled” all the time. The energy they gave off was much more peaceful. Hers is chaotic. It makes me dizzy only by concentrating on it. What the hell is she doing??

Well, it’s not exactly like I can go there and ask her. She kind off hates my guts because of the whole vampire mojo. Every person I’ve encountered has quietly kept her distance from me after they’ve felt it. It’s just like being ignored in highschool, not so cool, but at least you get to mind your own business.

Anyway, the heat is even worse now. I think I barely went out off the house for these past two weeks. Except for some nights, when I broke into the blood bank. It’s really not that big of a deal. Hospitals are always so busy, they don’t even notice you’re not supposed to be there in the first place.

Uhm, I’ve ran out of reading material. Seems like tomorrow I’m going to have to come out of my cave. Yuppie. Great.

the 16th of August, 2010

FABIAN

7:00 – stop alarm by slamming clock into wall

7:10 – wake up due to inhumane screaming

7:11 – bang on crazy neighbor’s door to see what is wrong

7:15 – screaming increases

7:16 – bust down the damned door

7:16 – screaming stops abruptly

7:17 – large frying pan thrown into my face

Fortunately, I avoided it just in time. Yes, it was her. And yes, she was the one doing all that insufferable screaming.

LAILA

Oh , my God, I did not just see a rat, did I??

68**)^jkas&*62nassssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Okay, so I left the newspaper on the keyboard.

I think this all must be a nightmare.

First, the rat. Of course I screamed like a kid at the dentist, there was a rat in my bathroom, for Heaven sake! But to think any man, no – any human being, would ever do that!

I have never been more shocked in my life. And it’s not because of the rat. I’ve seen them on TV before, so it’s not like I just discovered they exist. It’s because of the draft I am feeling since I am now lacking a DOOR!!!!!!

FABIAN

This little girl is driving me insane. She’s been going on and on for the last hour about how she is going to sue me. Sue me? Is she serious? Who wouldn’t have feared the worst with all that screeching?

I will pay for the stupid door. After all, stupidity has a price. That’ll teach me a lesson never to meddle in human affairs again. Especially the ones from this century.

But a frying pan? What the hell.

the 23rd of August, 2010

LAILA

He got the door fixed.

FABIAN

That delightful creature has stopped nagging me since I repaired her door.

Peace is once more settled in vampire land.

Vampires Suck (1)

the 28^th of July, 2010

FABIAN

Here goes.

19-year-old male, born in the suburbs of Bucharest, Romania. This all happened back in 1920. So how is it possible for me to be living in the year 2010? Time traveling, of course! Get real, how could that be possible here of all places in the world? Those things only happen in America.

Don’t mind the useless parts of my babbling, it’s just a habit of mine. Some people prefer walking for miles and miles, yet I prefer talking. And talking. And then some more talking. Anyway, what am I supposed to do after being around for almost a century? Learn how to levitate? Hell, no, not my style.

So, have you guessed yet? Want a clue? Think Dracula, blood and fangs. Just without the crazed look of insane hunger. Oh, and ten times more good looking. Or make that double?

Yes, I’m a modern vampire. Now, some of you girls out there might start squeaking. Stop that. NOW. I’ll hunt you down and make sure you never make a sound again. Hey, I don’t have a pulse, but my morals are intact. Vanity I can take, but not stupidity.

Mostly my days are boring. I don’t hunt the innocent. Nor do I sleep during the day and lurk during the night. I do prefer darkness though, but only because it helps me calm down my thoughts. I can eat real food. Occasionally, I go to the blood bank and steal some bags, but that’s all there is to it. No compelling. No seductive gaze. Just me and a plastic bag of red liquid.

I don’t know how I’ve been created and I have no recollection of the life I was leading before I turned into a vampire. I’ve met other vampires over the years, but they were all normal. Actually, they could pass for more normal than most people nowadays. Just so you know, we aren’t all that great.

Since we don’t have any vampire leader, don’t belong to a vampire community and I’m pretty sure there are no vampire churches either, I just wander through life, changing locations when people start to suspect the fact that I don’t age and look stunning when they’ve already grown a mustache.

I’m also a college student. I seriously despise people my own age (in human years). They are beyond dense and superficial. I try occupying my time with writing. Or so I did, up until now...

Oh, yeah, the name’s Fabian.

the 1^st of August, 2010

FABIAN

It’s summer and I’m melting.

Not as in literally melting from being in the light, but as in – the temperature is the same as that in hell, if there is such a thing as hell. So, the accurate phrase is “I’m sweating like a vampire pig”. Not so sexy anymore, ey, Twilight-fans?

The air conditioner is on, but it’s merely taunting me. Sometimes I feel like throwing the damn thing out the window. Given the fact that I live in a small flat at the 2^nd floor, the satisfaction wouldn’t be that great. Being able to fly or float or whatever like some vampires do in books, actually sounds good, no pretense here. But it’s impossible for me. Though, I’ve heard stories of some old vampires (old as in a thousand years of undead life experience) who were capable of flying and hypnotizing.

As tempting as it might be, I don’t want to live that much. I already am bored beyond my wits. I’ve heard that beheading would do the trick for my kind. I suspect it to be true, as well. All the other methods of killing a vampire are just made-up stories. I mean, do you actually believe garlic could be our worst enemy?

But anyway, it’s Sunday, so everybody’s out. It’s also very quiet since my pot-smoking-neighbors were raided last month. What is it with humans and drugs? Not to comment on their effects, but they’re obscenely expensive. As a vampire, I’ve earned a small fortune over the years, but I would much rather spend it on something else.

So, now I’m listening to SOAD’s last album, the one they’ve released before their band dissolved. I only take pride in two of my possessions. Those are my book collection and my audio system – the last was purchased as a gift I made myself for Christmas. I might be an antisocial loner and a vampire, but presents are presents. You can almost feel my grin in these words, I know.

Well, being a vampire does have its benefits nowadays. There is this natural repelling barrier that we give off. The people around us are not supernatural beings, but their senses tell them to keep their distance. For me, whose personality has never been the let’s-be-BFFs type, this is just a bonus. For other vampires it can get a little inconvenient. I, on other hand, am just fine.

That’s why nobody could have predicted the coming of a human in my life. Never. Yet that didn’t stop her from annoying me all the time.

LAILA

I am so going to kill that son of a bitch! What kind of father would make his own daughter go to a country whose name he can’t even spell right? And buy her an apartment in this area, as well. I swear, I saw some gangsters just around the block. What is this place?

I’m Laila, by the way. I moved here from NY. Well, was forced to move here, since my stupid father went missing. He only left me a letter with instructions to come to Romania. My mother was born here, so I have no trouble with the language. Unfortunately, she died when I was 10, leaving me alone with a lunatic.

Starting this fall, I’ll be attending classes at the University of Bucharest. I did look forward to going to college, but that was last year when things hadn’t been so messed up. How could he do this to me? I’m only 18-years-old, isn’t he afraid I’d get pregnant or something?

Putting that aside, everything’s just peachy.

Great, the elevator’s broken. Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but with a bunch of boxes to move, who could blame me? Ugh. Let’s just get this over with, I thought.

But as I tried to keep my balance, I got distracted. At the second floor, I heard music. I sighed. What crazy neighbors would I have? After double-checking the letter, I resigned and went on. My apartment was on the second floor, as well.

Just as I was passing by the place where that loud music was playing, I tripped. Yeah, leave it to me to be graceful.

And then it happened.

The music stopped right away and the door swung open.

I had never seen anyone so stunning. His eyes were grey with a hint of blue, with an evil glint to them. His hair was as black as coal. Tall, broad-shouldered, he stood there towering over me. He seemed so out of place, why, I can’t explain. A devilish grin spread across his face. Was he laughing at me? Oh my God.

I started recollecting myself off the pavement and felt the blood rush in my face.

“Are you moving in?” he asked me, his voice very steady and normal. Still, I couldn’t help, but feel rejected by this person. Rejected? The heat must be getting to me.

He seemed to sense my nervousness and grabbed my boxes for me.

“Seems like you’ll be living next door” he said. I just nodded. Again, I felt a wave of disappointment, as if I was being brushed off.

After he easily placed the boxes I struggled so much with, he turned towards me. His expression was bored, but mostly unreadable.

“You can leave now” I snapped. “Thank you” I then added embarrassed.

He just widened his eyes and the chuckled. Just what was so funny?

“Excuse me, why are you laughing?” I thought it better to be polite. After all, I would be living next door to him from now on. I wouldn’t want to be punished by his music every day.

“Nothing” he calmly answered. I had this strong urge to slap him. Why was I so on the edge around this person? Finally, he seemed to understand he was bothering me and left without saying another word.

Shortly enough, I heard that music again.

Welcome home, Laila.

* Note:

Special thanks to my best friend, Annie, who suggested I write about a vampire such as Fabian in the first place.

Will Be Continued Soon

Îndrăgostiţi

Unde locuiesc îndrăgostiţii?

Printre fluturi şi furtuni,

Într-o aglomeraţie de mâini,

Pe plaja vie a tinereţii...

În oraşul gol al cerului,

Fără niciun semafor,

Privind pământul incolor

De pe buza amorului...

Departe de minciuna sorţii

Prin beţie şi descântec,

Cu fiori dansând în pântec –

Acolo locuiesc îndrăgostiţii...

De prin vechituri...
[click pt. imaginea în dimensiune originală]

Depressia [part 2]

So how long has it been, my grim readers? Agh, who cares. The only thing that matters right now is the evacuation order I received yesterday. Who knew money could buy you out of your own apartment? Anyway, that's not the only good news I've received this week. Turns out I won a contest. And this is the part when you all eyeball me like I just confirmed my insanity on paper. Well, let's see... what could I possibly do with a free bikini wax and french-pedicure? Die unhappy, that is. So stop nagging me like some squeamish old hag.

Oh, almost forgot. I changed my brand of cigarettes. Now I'm on some cheap crap even my cat hates. Gotta pay the rent somehow. Sigh. Seriously, winding up like my best friend the homeless guy (gay guy, that is) isn't top on my priority list. Actually, it's right next to the bikini wax. Maybe I'll make that a donation for some poor brainless blonde. Tempting, freakishly tempting.
So, during my last hangover (which is still in progress) I came up with the most wicked idea while staring at my one-eared cat - one thing though, I can't seem to remember a fucking thing now. Oh, well.

Depressia [part 1]

Oh, crap. My usual I-don't-give-a-fuck mood is turning into I-just-wanna-slit-a-throat mood. Attractive, right? Not really. I look like a combo between Goth & Goth-er, if you get what I mean. I've been drinking coffee with rum for the past few hours and I still can't feel numb. I think it's just making me fat. Gotta lay off this shit, that's for sure.

I'm Depressia. Yep, with a name like that, no wonder I'm depressed. And no, my mother wasn't smoking pot when she gave it to me. At least, not at that moment. I think dad, oh sorry, I mean he-who-is-nowhere-to-be-found, must have come up with it on one of his out-of-body experiences. So, coming back to the most precious me, I'm a twenty-year-old ex-student, with a degree in fucking things up. Or just fucking them. Anyway, I don't have a job or a future. I only eat what's in labeled bottles and sleep during the day. My best friend (a forty-year-old homeless guy - don't laugh, we have a strong bond. Too bad he's gay, I would've asked him to be my roomie) says I'm the modern version of an alcohol-sucking vampire. Seriously, do I look tall, dark and... eh, beautiful?
Oh, fuck that (yes, I do say the f-word a lot. I think it's grown on me. I wouldn't mind if my name was Fuckia. Sounds exotic, right? That's what I thought too.). So, tonight was supposed to be just another very-common-and-alone-spent night. Well, not completely alone, I do have my cat with me. She's missing an ear, but I think it's part of her charm. I even got her tail pierced. So, like I said, it was one of those nights when I celebrated my retardyness (and if that isn't a word, it still applies perfectly to me). But unlike the other nights, it felt... wrong. More than it usually did. Depressia is in depression mode. Is that funny or what?

Sophisticated lies

Ten past eleven. The last hour as I would call it. How boring it seems to me. Or rather – how uninteresting. I never thought that as I grew out of childhood, the nearer my birthdays would be, the less enthusiastic I’d grow. I don’t feel as if I’m growing old and I don’t particularly care. My current life is under a heavy cloud of indifference and boredom. Perhaps, with a chance of ironic rain from time to time, but nothing spectacular.

I can never quite understand other people. Nor do I like them. Sure, they make an interesting study and I am still far too selfish not to want to help them. In fact, I should admit to never completely understanding myself. I often find myself questioning my own moods – are they really mine or am I just mirroring someone else? It confuses me a great deal.

To one conclusion I have come for sure: there is something of a chameleon in the human nature, or else, how would I be able to conform myself to such a multitude of situations? Nevertheless, I am a shallow being, I know that. The only thing I am afraid of is that others should discover this as well. They have yet to see through my coloured lies. They think of me as good on the inside when I am only cruel on the outside. Who is to blame for this? It’s a matter of common fault, I should say.

I have come to realize I do nothing for myself anymore. It is strange because at the same time, I do nothing for the others. I just meaninglessly continue to exist, strolling through a park of sophisticated nothings. Is this the true emptiness of the soul’s resignation? Although I wish to wake up, I am not chasing after the answer. I remain floating, floating over an abyss of dullness and shadows.