The Donor to a Vampire (Donor #1)

Chapter 8: Bonded

"You won't believe it, Dess! My hair started to grow!" Jeremy enthusiastically announced, hardly able to finish his sentence.

"Really? The new medication is working very fast," I felt relieved to the point of passing out that the new treatment was showing encouraging progress.

As I listened to my little brother's chatter, my mind drifted, wholly absorbed by yesterday's feeding. After Ly expeditiously left, I avoided looking at any mirrors or reflective surfaces, afraid of what I might see, or rather, what I might not see since Ly hadn't explained or debunked any of the myths and legends about vampires. The idea of not having a reflection seemed entirely possible. Ly's motto seemed to be "never complain, never explain." Sleep was another issue; it eluded me like a cat avoids water. I spent the night half-awake, tossing and turning and leaving the sheets in a mess. I didn't know what to expect this morning; a strange sensation of avoiding the sun or wanting to sleep in a coffin were my top two concerns.

With a deep sigh and a fake laugh at my brother's enthusiastic story about scaring a new nurse, I squared my shoulders and marched towards the bathroom, expecting the worst. Bravely turning on the light while holding my breath, I fixed my eyes on the mirror. As I slowly let my gaze drift to my neck, my heart raced, and I felt a lump in my throat.

"I-I can hardly see anything," my exhale of relief echoed around the spacious tiled room.

There were no big, horrifying black and blue patches of skin or a missing chunk of flesh to be seen. There wasn't even a neon sign flashing: 'Bitten here'. On the spot where Ly sank his fangs were only four small punctures rimmed with a reddish hue.

"Actually," I grumbled in disgust, "it's a bit like a big zit."

"Eww, I don't wanna hear about your pimples," Jeremy whined, giggling uncontrollably at my remark.

Rolling my eyes at his, thankfully, still childish honesty, I clenched the phone. "I can't wait for you to hit puberty; you will get all pimply, oily, and highly disproportionate. Nose like an elephant, arms like an ape and hairier than a bear. Then I will tease you, and you shall see how that feels."

Jeremy had a loud fit of laughter when he calmed down; he wheezed, "yeah, ugly, that is how."

Ugly, that is precisely how I felt now, staring at my reflecting bite marks. I had the urge to tie a scarf around my neck to conceal the spot, but it seemed highly ridiculous. I would stick out even more in a Camaraderie if I did. The Donors below displayed the bite marks proudly, walking as if they had won an Oscar award for Best bitten. As Jeremy continued laughing, my irritation heightened.

"Jeremy Wright O'Cowell, no matter how you dislike a person, it is cruel to call anyone ugly. Do you hear me?" My voice was stern, hoping to imprint compassion in him for people, and I wished for him to be kind in this hostile and insensitive world.

Mumbling into the phone, Jeremy grumbled, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now get your schoolwork and do your homework. The phone games can wait at least an hour, and I will know if you will play them."

"How would you? Your phone is as old as –".

"Now, Jeremy," I interrupted him sharply in a no-nonsense voice reserved for when he wanted to rebel.

"Yes, ma'am," he quickly squeaked.

With goodbyes and saying that we shall talk soon, our conversation ended. I was glad Jeremy was better; however, his cheekiness grew the healthier he was.

Kids will be kids.

I rushed down the hallway, overly cautious of my footing., hoping I would not have an awkward encounter with him. What should I say when I saw Ly: 'Hey there, so how does my blood taste? Chicken? Pork? Duck?' Fortunately, without any encounter, I found myself alone in front of the elevator. As I entered, I pressed the button quickly and repeatedly to speed up the closing doors; unfortunately, before they fully closed, a perfectly manicured hand shot forward and gripped the door. Terror of a different kind gripped my heart.