Ready Or Not

I'd Rather Starve

**Lydia**

I sat with my hands tucked under my thighs, staring at the nondescript blue slip-on shoes that covered my feet. As I stared, I pondered. Hannah loved me, and yet she put me here.

And even though I knew better, I still loved her. I was glad she was alive. I needed her to be alive. There had to be an explanation. Had to be, because my heart wasn't done with her yet, and the thought that she'd simply given me up in trade for her brother just didn't sit right. There were other steps that could have been taken. 

We could have helped her. I would have done anything for her. I pulled one hand free of my leg and flexed the fingers, remembering the way her hand felt in mine. The way her hair glided between my fingers. The way her skin felt as I skimmed over her most sensitive places.

My thoughts were cut short by the first set of bars outside my cell sliding aside.

“Montgomery, get up and get changed, we're moving you.”

A  female officer I hadn't seen before slipped past the second set of bars and put something in the lazy Susan in the thick glass that separated us. 

“What?”

I moved for the unknown object and gulped hard when green fabric met my fingers.

“This is just a holding cell. We're taking you to more permanent digs,” the woman said casually. “And where you're going, vamps wear green. Gives the population a warning to give you a wide berth.”

I dropped what I now understood to be a new jumpsuit, looking down at the blue one I wore. “I don't wear green.” There was a tightness in my chest.

“Aww, come on, with that hair? Those eyes? You'll look great,” she teased me.

Visions of a torn green dress danced in front of my eyes. A torn green dress and a chained crypt door. 

“No, you don't- you don't understand. I can't wear green. Anything else. Hell, I'll wear a sign. 'Vampire’ right across my chest. Just...not green.”

My world swam.

“No choice, friend. That's how it's done. Green equals nightwalker. You gotta wear it.”

“Nightwalker,” I laughed. “This isn't an Anne Rice novel. The sun won't hurt me,” I said, trying to put her off her insistence regarding my wardrobe. I was starting to feel pins and needles in my fingertips and my breathing, though unnecessary, was shallow. “Won't the chains give me away? Doesn't stainless steel just scream 'bride of the beast’?”

She was unamused. “You're wasting my time. Change now, or I withhold your meals for a day or two and see how cooperative you are then.”

I don't give away personal info to just anybody. Especially not info that shows how weak I can be. But I was desperate as I feebly made my way to my cot and dropped to it, nearly dizzy with the thought of the green jumpsuit. “Look. I know this is hard to understand, but waking up to find you've been buried alive is traumatic. Figuring out 'alive’ isn't the right term and turning into a monster is scarring. And doing it all in a green dress will leave you with a serious aversion to the color. Please. I can't.”

She sucked on her teeth while she regarded me. “Lunch was coming,” she said, turning away. “I'll tell them not to bother. I'll see you tomorrow when we'll try this again.”

The bars slid shut and I curled into my thin blanket, tears sliding down my cheeks. I'd go hungry. I'd starve before they'd get me in that damn suit.