I started to take my laptop to school after I found that my pass word had been breached. Trust me this never bothered me before, I shared my laptop with my mother, but now it was serious. I had gotten in to some serious problems. No not drugs, not even gangs, something different, exotic in a way.

Vampires had never been more then a fantasy to me, I wrote about them, and read books about their tale. Oh, how I loved to read about their hardships, how their past caused them to search for vampire hunters or how they had to live on animals for a time period until they built up enough courage or strength to hunt the mortal man. It drew me in every time, how the writer would describe the way the blood tasted, how the vampire reacted, how it brought them strength.  I loved how the writer made the characters dark and chilling… but that was the problem, they were just characters, nothing more then imagination.  It disappointed me to think my once child hood dream; to meet one of these amazing creatures, was crushed by a cruel reality.

Though it didn’t stop me from reading stories about them, I would search book stores for anything on vampires, weather it be fiction or even old wives tales.  I tried to write about them, but they always came out to cliché, turning in to bats or mist, living at night, but the day vampires never appealed to me like the classic night walkers.


preface

I had moved from my cozy home in san Diego to a barren part of  California called  Temecula.  And trust me it was barren. I was so used to the tall buildings the minimal walking space. But my mother wanted to get as far away from my father and his new wife as much as possible with out having to leave the state because despite her having custody of me, I still visited him every other weekend.

At nights back in san Diego she would come to my room, pull my cheap computer chair from it’s place and sit down. She would kick the ground lightly with her work shoes and sigh, I always knew she wanted to talk when she sighed. I would tell my friends who I was talking to on the laptop I would be back soon, knowing that her rants and venting would last for an hour or two. I would close the laptop wipe any dust from the glossy red surface and sit cross legged on my bed where I always was it seemed like.  Then she would talk. Mostly about my fathers hair, and how stupid she thought it was and how his wife’s laugh sounded like a cackling witch. I always laughed and looked towards my window. She never wondered what I looked at , I’m sure she figured it was me trying to stay quiet and not complain about my father , after she was done talking she would sigh again and stare at the floor then I always turn to her and ask the same question: “mom? Do you still love him?” she looked at me then her gaze would shift to the ground and she kept a  soft smile: “ get some sleep kid.” and with that she pushed my computer chair back in it’s place at the desk and walk out turning the hall light off and left me in the deafening silence.

Ever since we moved to our new home I always dreamed about those conversations. Sweet and bitter conversations.  I guess in a way I missed my old apartment and how things used to be when we were a happy family, when Sofia didn’t seduce my father in to dinner, when he didn’t stay late at his office. When my mom didn’t cry at night, and when I didn’t have to sit on the couch waiting for my father to come home late at night and mumble the words “moms upset.” I hated those two words with a passion.