Forever Young

Forever Young ch.3

Ch.3 Wait...I Have Friends?!

Remember that random British guy from last week? Ok, well, you don’t know it was last week, but it was. So, the weird thing is....I think I’ve seen him before. Ok, well, more heard before. See, one of my friends loved British people, practically anyone who’s not American, and there was this band...And there was this dude in the band. He sounded a lot like that guy from that day. I wonder why I was able to touch him though....Oh! As I was saying, I remember because I have to. If I don’t think of something that’s happening now, I might spiral down mentally and become insane by my lack of companionship.

Walking through the streets at night have become a hobby of mine, recently. At night, it’s peaceful and I don’t have to worry about bumping into someone and stealing their life, so that’s a plus. Tonight I decided to check out the cemeteries, something I usually do on Friday’s, but decided I could be a day early. The wind howls and my skirt balloons around me as I visit my little sister. She died too young and in exchange, I stole her life from her. All the years she had in front of her, gone, in that one second. How could I ever forgive myself?

“You’ll get used to it,” I hear that voice again.

Turning, I see him sitting on one of the tombstones, his legs dangling.

For some reason, the first that pops in my head is “Are you British?”

He nods.

Why am I so dumb?! The first thing I would say is ‘Are you British’? Duh! Of course! His accent says it all! “Why do you wear that hood all the time?”

“What hood?” he says, still hiding under it.

“The one on your head,” my sarcasm comes out, and I regret it. My first friend in 2 years and I get sarcastic!

“You’ll get used to it,” he repeats.

Turning to completely, I look at him for a second. “Are you reading my mind?” Or am I saying them out loud?

He jumps off the tombstone and walking to me, he takes his hood off. “Yes.”

My eyes widen. It was that guy from that band! What was his name again?

He grins, showing his dimples. “You remember me.”

I back up and trip, falling on my butt. “Kinda...But, you’re h-You can touch me.”

“And so?”

“I can’t touch people. Why do you think I’m out strolling at night?”

“Because you’re a vampire,” he smiles and I have to stop myself from freaking out. Maybe she had a point, British people are kinda hot....

“I don’t know what happened.” Or how you know me.

“You were dying, and...” he gestures for me to finish.

“This witch-person-thing came and did this thing to me.” Something occurs to me. He said ‘You were dying, and...’ as if the same thing happened to him. “Wait?! Are you-”

He nods.

“Are we hu-”

He looks at me and I have to stop myself from staring. That’s what 2 years of isolation does to a girl.

I repeat myself. “Are we human?”

He keeps looking at me, and is giggling to himself about something. Seeing me stare, he says “Not exactly. Not anymore...How do I explain?”