The Lost Princess

Chapter 12

I sit silently as I splotch random blobs of paint onto my canvas.

Harry strolls behind me and obnoxiously leans over my shoulder.

"What in the hell is that?" he asks in a husky voice. His very breath on the back of my neck made every hair on my body stand up and shiver.

When I catch my breath, I reply, "My mind is too jumbled to paint something serene and normal. Jumbled thoughts, equals jumled painting." I pick up the purple paint bottle and angrily squirt it onto the canvas. "Stop avoiding the subject, you said you'd explain everything!" Next, the orange bottle. "You're so frustrating! This is all so frustrating!" I reach for the yellow when his hand wraps around my wrist, twisting me around in my seat so I face him.

"Fine." he says simply, sitting in the chair across from me. It's a tad bit awkward, sitting directly in front of him, burning under his eye contact.

"What are you?" I ask.

Wow. This is turing into some Twilight crap, isn't it?

He sighs deeply. He leans his elbows on his knees, only making the space between is dissapear even more. He plays with a loose fingernail in frustration.

"it's not just me. It's my family, your father, and the rest of this island." he says.

I swallow hard.

"So......" I prod on for him to continue.

"Your gonna think I'm shitting you." he says, shaking his head with a slight chuckle.

"Your eyes had these black veins under them. And your eyes were black, too." I begin to jitter a little at the memory of what happened a mere 20 minutes ago. I had gotten over it somehow so quickly, until now. "Your teeth were sharp."

There's a silence for a good four minutes. I counted, trust me.

"Do you believe in the things that you can't see in real life?" he asks.

"You mean ghosts and stuff? I guess...."

"And what about everything else?"

"What do you mean by that?"

He sighs again.

"Halloween was a few days ago, when I found you. Think back to then. What do people dress up as on Halloween?" He rubs the back of his neck.

"What am I, four years old?" I glare at him.

"Answer the question if you want me to explain anything more."

I sigh and cross my arms. "I don't know. Witches, warlocks, ghosts, zombies, vampires-----" My breath catches in my throat at the last one. I can't even explain why.

"And what did I look like the most, a few minutes ago?" he scrunches his face anticipating my answer.

"Well, a vampire." 

He stares me down.

"So, you're telling me everyone is a vampire in this place?"

He shakes his head hesitantly. "Yup."

Alright, is it bad if I kind of believe him? I mean, if what just happened hadn't happened, I wouldn't. But there's no way that all of that could've been makeup or effects or something. It happened instantly, naturally, even.

"I think I believe you." I saw, getting a little shaken, actually. 

He cocks an eyebrow. "You do?"

"But, I need to be sure." I stand from my stool and walk into my main bedroom, aching for his closeness again. The doctor left all of his supplies, including the portable life support machine---blood bags and all. I remove it carefully and screw a lid on. I shiver at the thought that I'm holding about a pint of my own blood.