The Vampire Slayer

Chapter 19

One week went by, and no police burst into Maeve's room, taking her to jail for killing a vampire, breaking inside a house, stealing a white woman's clothes, and scaring the bejesus of her cats with cucumbers. Nor did Mr. Jason burst in to take his stolen keys and book. And it was a relief.
         She kept reading the book she stole from Mr. Jason, realizing that all of it was genuine. However, the only book that had been constantly on her mind was The Van Helsing Prophecy.
         Maeve took a deep breath and sat on her bed reading through the stolen vampire book; she browsed through it, bored by the detailed information about the MV's, when she suddenly came to a stiff paper page. In the middle was a rectangular gap; inside it was a key. She took it out, examining the tiny key, and it hit her. It was the key to Mr. Jason's camera security recordings.
         Maeve shed a joyful tear, surprised and excitedly pleased. She felt as if she had solved the whole case about Elizabeth. The only thing to achieve was to sneak into the professor's room again. Although that was a problem, they changed the locks three days ago. So she had to do the unthinkable, lend Mr. Jason's smart card.
        Maeve had brushed Mr. Jason off her mind this week, burying him within her heart instead of fantasizing about him. Although she thought it would be for the best, it sometimes hurt; she had to ensure he wasn't a vampire first.
       Deep down, her core, her new side, the Van Helsing side, was shouting and trying to tell her that she was incorrect. He was a vampire, the type of vampire she'd had nightmares of every night.
       She was also tired of his wicked games, being hot and cold. He didn't take action, revealing his affection or touching her. As a result, Maeve felt untouchable, unloved, and unnoticed. 
       "Maeve, you have that sad face on again. What's going on?" Soojin asked sympathetically. Maeve looked up, hiding away the key inside her covers.
        Soojin and Patricia had just stepped in from their breakfast. Maeve hasn't eaten breakfast in days. Her appetite was long gone; she ate only once or twice a day. As for her studies, she's been struggling, getting C's or even D's these couple of days.
         Mr. Jason was the one that always seemed disappointed in her—giving her report back with a doubtful facial expression. Last week, after class, he asked her if something was bothering her and reassured her that he was there for her no matter what. Maeve didn't wish to appear helpless; she always smiled big telling him she was okay. Then, crying heartbreakingly afterward in the restrooms. 
       "Maeve, you haven't responded," Soojin stated, looking concerned at her, waking her up from daydreaming.
        "I'm sorry, I feel a little... Homesick." Maeve lied and kept saying the same thing every time Soojin or Patricia was questioned about her saddening behavior. 
"Poor thing, have patience; in two months, it's Christmas. Then, you'll get to see your father and be home." Patricia said, sitting beside her on her bed. They supported her daily without knowing the true purpose of her depression, melancholy and anxious behavior.
         Maeve hasn't spoken to her father lately; he's been busy with work, so they have only texted. She dreaded the day she would step inside her home back in Houston. Maeve hasn't yet sunk everything in. Talking to her father about Van Helsing, whose name was on a book about being the latest vampire slayer, and about vampire slaying, in general, felt unreal.
         Maeve was drowning in her thoughts, emotions, and hatred. She hated that her father never talked about his past, history, relatives, and the fact that she might be a vampire slayer.
         This was puzzling her, day by day, night by night, keeping her sleepless, with an empty stomach, regularly dreaming of the vampire she'd killed. Maeve needed to draw; her body was begging for it to draw out her feelings as she did after her mother died. Let her emotions take control of her hand, draw the feelings out, the pain, the sorrow, the chaos, and the forbidden love she concealed beneath the core of her soul.
        Desperately Maeve took her diary, drawing out her feelings furiously without paying attention to her drawing. In class, she did the same and didn't focus on the day's lectures. A whole day went by, and all she did was draw. Her hand was burning, a burning sensation telling her to stop. She dropped the pencil and closed her eyes; a feeling of hovering above the sky soothed her.
         Maeve opened her eyes; she was under Elizabeth's tree. The air was chilly, blowing at her face and nudging her up. Maeve stood up, inhaled and exhaled, and walked towards Mr. Jason's bungalow.