Diary of a Non-Conformist Vampire Victim

Chapter 1.2 | Escape

"So, what got you too scared to walk back?" Professor Kent asked casually as she signaled for a turn into the University parking lot.

I gulped, and decided that I would tell the teacher, just in case my nightmarish fantasies turned out to be true. "Joan told some stranger where I lived. She thinks its a boy that likes me, but I don't know who it is, and I don't want to find out walking home alone."

Professor Kent smiled. "That's very smart, just in case its not a boy, but you know it could be. You're very pretty."

She meant to be nice, but I didn't really want to hear about it. I knew that I could be pretty if I worked at it, but I just didn't have the motivation. I had dark brown and curly hair, but to change it from kinda nappy to wolf-whistle-worthy took at least half an hour of blow drying, product, and brushing. Sometimes I felt like it. Most of the time I didn't. I also needed contacts and something a little more trendy than my nicest pair of public sweat pants. The kimono was pretty, but I would die before letting someone see me in that.

Professor Kent pulled up to the curb before I could think of a response. "Here you are. I'll see you at class!"

I jumped out and waved goodbye, determined to bring Professor Kent something nice in class, or maybe pay for a future meal for her next time at the diner. What ever that dark shadow was in the alley way, I was glad I hadn't met it. I slung my backpack onto my back and ran all the way to my room, not caring what time it was or whether the Party Pack was out and about or not. I unlocked my door, threw myself in, and slammed it shut, before sliding my way to the bottom of the door.

Sweet, beautiful silence. I took a long savoring moment to enjoy the fact that I was safe, secure, and alone. What ever the shadowy figure was, it was gone now. All I needed to do was shut it away in my diary, and forget all about it. I climbed to my feet, and took a few wobbly steps to the desk rammed in the corner of my room. The diary lay undisturbed, and I opened it up to the first unused page. I wrote down everything, like I always do. Every moment, with perhaps a little bit too much emphasis on the shadowy figure in the alleyway and the heroic rescue performed by Professor Kent. I finished the last word with a flourish, and froze just as I was about to shut the book. On the opposite page of where I'd finished, in handwriting definitely not my own, someone had written in my diary. Someone had written the words, "I see you."

I threw the book across the room and wildly ran for the door, afraid the person who had wrote it was still there, but then better sense returned to me. My room was tiny. It was three feet from my bed to my desk. If someone was hiding in my room, I would have seen them. I'd have heard them breathing. My I-hate-people sixth sense would be sending off alarms and letting me know. Who ever had written in my book was gone.

Also, perplexingly, they had a key to my room. I fetched my diary from where I'd thrown it, and put it in my backpack. I didn't know what to do in this situation. Sleep here, knowing someone could come in at any moment and stab me? Out of the question. What did one do in this situation? Call 911? I didn't have a cell phone, on account of they caused cancer and involved talking to people, but just now I really needed one. I could also use a friend, but I didn't have one of those either. The sound of the party music from one floor down vibrated up through my feet, and that's when I got an idea.

I climbed into the tiny little shower in my tiny little room, shampooed, conditioned, rinsed, and began the process of turning myself into Respectable Me. In 45 minutes, I had decent hair. I sacrificed my glasses for contacts, put on my nicest pair of sweat pants (oh well) and descended the stairs in order to visit People Land. My intention was to join the party, blend in with the surroundings for a couple of hours, and then find some nice young lady who wanted to have a sleepover or something and study. I'd even be willing to write an essay for them so I didn't have to sleep alone. I was sure someone would want instant A's in exchange for letting me sleep on their doormat.

Unfortunately, my feet rooted to the ground when I got to the stairwell, and I just couldn't make myself walk into all that noise. I switched directions, grabbed my backpack from my room, and decided on escape plan 2. I would go to the front desk and complain about people pulling pranks via breaking and entering. This way if someone murdered me in my sleep, someone would know about it.

I headed down the steps, winding my way through the confusing labyrinth of hallways, all the way to the front of the building on the ground floor. There I found myself smiling at a young man and woman in uniform. The young man leaned forward a little bit. "Can I help you with something?" he asked.

My throat locked up, but I forced myself to take a step forward. "I—I think someone's got a key to my room. I--"

I couldn't tell them about my diary. Telling them about it would require showing them the handwriting. Then again, better to suffer the humiliation of people knowing what I did at night, than to die and never write again. I pulled the book out of my backpack. "Someone wrote in this, and it wasn't me, and my door was locked."

The woman leaned forward for a look. "And you're sure you locked it?"

I wanted to scream at her, and flail my arms around for good measure. Of course I was sure. I always lock my door. I always double check the knob. I never let people into my world. Ever. And then I second guessed myself. Did I rattle the knob before unlocking it today? Did I space out this morning and not lock it, just this once? The Party Pack loved to play jokes on people. Maybe they were right.

I hugged my book to myself. "Thanks. I don't remember if I checked the lock this morning. I guess I'll be sure to lock it tonight and let you know if it happens again."

The pair smiled at me, and I wandered my way back to my room, feeling deflated and a little ill. Maybe I was coming down with something. I put my hand on my door, and gave it a little test rattle. The door knob turned easily in my hands, and I found myself walking through the door of my unlocked room. Yup. Definitely coming down with something. I locked the door securely behind me, and fell down face first in my bed. What a long day.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I felt my Loner-Alarms screaming at me to look up and look around the room. I jerked upright, and found myself looking around at an empty room. I jumped to my feet, rattled the door knob to make sure it was still locked, and eased back onto my bed. I couldn't keep doing this all night. I squished my eyes shut, opened my mouth, and unleashed a threat that never failed to send people running.

"If you don't come out right now I'm going to let my Madagascar Hissing Cockroach run around on the floor, just for fun!"