So I Might Be a Vampire - Book 1 (Original Version)

65: A New Reality

Of course, I stopped by the club on the way home, but it was getting to be routine by that point. The weather was still unpredictable as the weather tends to be in Toronto and the days were already getting longer, so some mornings I cut it really close getting home, but I was getting the hang of it and knew that I still had at least until 8 AM for the sun to be any proper threat. In summer that was going to be a different story, but for the time being, it was just becoming part of my routine as a vampire.

I'd wake up to my darkened apartment around 11 AM, either from my stomach demanding that I put some proper food into it or from my bladder threatening to spring a leak and flood the bed. I caught myself having one of those dreams one morning. You know the dream I'm talking about. The one where you dream you're peeing and then have to jump up and run to the bathroom because you suddenly felt the rush of hot liquid on your leg or stomach. In my case, I was dreaming that I was peeing into an abandoned swimming pool and it was such a good feeling of relief, the kind of epic pee you could only have in a dream. It was also the kind of pee that required me to have to take an immediate shower. I, of course, had to strip the bed and desperately hope that I hadn't gotten any urine on the pillow and that it hadn't soaked through the mattress cover that Jaime had insisted so long ago that I just had to buy.

I vowed to myself that nobody would ever learn of my shame, even though I was fairly sure other people have had near misses. I'd have to ask Sammy about it sometime and see how badly she made fun of me.

It was while I was slipping my shoes on in the kitchen, my soiled sheets in the hamper in front of me, laundry card in my hand, that I realized there was no way I was going to be able to do laundry during the day. The laundry room was across the courtyard, and that was way too much sunlight for me to even begin thinking about.

Fuck.

This is the point all pretense of normal drains away, the point where the panic that has been lurking in the shadows of your mind and fears throws off its horrible disguise of bravado, idiocy or lunacy and wraps its arms lovingly around you in an embrace that only death will break.

Since we've established that I'm going to be honest, I'm just going to keep going with that theme. I pretty much lost it.

I don't know where the tears came from, or even the desperate sobs that forced their way out of my chest and surprised even me. I'm an ugly crier, so it's not something I do very often. I mean when I really let go of myself and actually allow myself to cry, it's really fucking ugly. There's lots of snot involved, and my crying face is nothing you want to take home to your mother. Some people will say "Hey it's okay for men to cry," but they will take one look at me crying and instantly change their minds. It's not pretty is what I'm really trying to drive home here.

It got pretty embarrassing, so I'm just going to skip that part and get to the point.

I was at my absolute lowest, lying on the cold floor in my apartment with a half-finished bottle of moderately pricey whiskey. I was swearing both at my inability to get properly drunk or to do my laundry, both because I was a fucking goddamn vampire... and then the phone rang.

Nobody calls me anymore. It's all text messages these days. The only calls I ever got were usually from my mom or from the phone company threatening to cut off my phone, but even they have switched to text messages. So I wasn't expecting anything good when I fumbled the phone out and saw all it said was UNKNOWN NUMBER.

Beep.

"You've reached the line of someone who doesn't give a fuck. What the fuck do you want?"

"Bob?"

The level of concern in Claude's voice shocked the shit out of me. Wait, that's a lie. Just hearing Claude's voice shocked the shit out of me. I sat up immediately.