The Garden of What Once Was

CHAPTER EIGHT

While the other guys went about their day, Ember spent most of her time staring out the window at the city. She really wanted to ask one of them to take her there, but she didn't trust any of them. When she grew bored of envisioning herself roaming the city, she wandered into the kitchen. It didn't seem like any of the guys possessed the ability to cook, so Ember took it upon herself to make dinner. Filling their stomachs up with food would make it less likely for her to become their dinner instead. With her safety on the line, she set off to make the best meal in her entire seventeen years of life. She started chopping up carrots she found in the refrigerator with ease. Much of the appliances, including the cutting knives, in the kitchen, were new. They looked as if they had never even been used before. It wouldn't be much of a surprise if the four of them lived off of take-out. This only brightened her mood, as it would mean she would get to see the looks on their faces when they have their first home-cooked meal in a while.

            "I hope you don't expect me to pay you for this," Reed interrupted Ember's upbeat humming.

            She cut the carrots with even more force, saying, "Is that all you have to say? Not 'Oh, wow! You're cooking dinner? That's so nice of you'?"

            "Don't waste your time. We can just get food from the five-star restaurants in the city," He yawned, having just woken up from a nap after the sound of annoying humming prevented him from falling back to sleep.

            "I'm going to cook you dinner whether you like it or not!" She angrily pointed the knife at him.

           "It's like you're my wife," He thought out loud.

They both looked at each other in bewilderment. Reed sealed his lips in a tight line, wondering how he could have left such a stupid comment slip out. Meanwhile, Ember thought about how repulsive it would be to be married to someone like Reed. The two did their best to move on and forget about what he said altogether.

           "Get the rest of the guys and have them sit at the table," Ember ordered as she searched through the fridge.

While there was plenty of bottled blood, it didn't seem like there was any meat she could use.

            "Look in the sliding drawer," Reed told her, "There's chicken in there, although it might be way  past its expiration date."

Just as he said, there were five chicken breasts in the sliding drawer. She took them out, hoping they were still good. The expiration date printed on the packaging read, 1/13/2060. It was only a day old. Rather than assisting Ember, Reed left the kitchen, claiming he was awful at cooking.

 Twenty minutes later, the smell of crisp chicken and carrots wafted through the house. She took a big whiff of the mouth-watering smells emitting from the food. Quickly, Ember took out the plates, eager to start eating dinner. One of them slipped off the counter as she set it down. Her hands went to catch the plate before it hit the floor, but she was too slow. The plate broke, scattering across the floor in multiple pieces. This was the last thing she wanted to happen. If Reed saw the mess she made, he would never let her back in the kitchen. With this one thought driving her, she foolishly picked up one piece of the plate. As she continued to gather up the big pieces of glass, blood began to stain the white glass. Upon seeing this, she dropped the piece she had picked up, making it shatter into even tinier fragments. When Ember looked at the palm of her left hand, she began to shake uncontrollably. A huge, red gash went from the bottom of her palm to the knuckle bone of her pointer finger. The amount of blood spilling from her cut was severely dangerous for two reasons. One of them being she could lose too much blood, and the other was the more important reason. Her blood would attract the attention of the four vampires in this very house, revealing her true blood secret to them. Frantically, she grabbed a dish towel, wrapping it around her palm. For now, that towel would smother the smell of her blood, but it wouldn't last for long. Not wanting to waste any more precious time, she shot out of the kitchen and through the front door.