short story 2
continued
warning: self-harm, mild gore, violence, death
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I jumped up out of my unconsciousness. I must have been dreaming. I thought to myself. I still lay on my back staring at the ceiling for a moment thinking what had just happened was a dream. I didn't see Pi'erre, so it must have.
I stood up, I was a bit wobbly. I noticed my feet were wet, so instinctively I looked down.
When I looked down, I almost passed out. It was my blood. I was standing in my own blood. So it wasn't I dream. I realized that I did die. Pi'erre really killed me. So why was I still alive. Was this the afterlife? Am I a ghost? I went to the mirror and looked at myself. There was a giant, hole in my shirt that was stained in my blood. But the hole that was in me was no longer there. I was completely healed. I had dried up blood on my face, and I noticed two tiny holes on the side of my neck.
I ran my fingers across the marks. They felt like bite marks. It suddenly brought back a memory before I died. I saw fangs. Pi'erre had fangs. "Am I a vampire?"
No, no that can't be it. I figured I was just going crazy. Vampires don't exist. But if they don't, why am I still alive.
I put the thought into the back of my mind and proceeded to search around the house for my missing boyfriend. He was nowhere to be found.
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I decided to stay home for a few weeks. Whenever Pi'erre hit me too bad, I just stayed home. Makeup couldn't cover some of the shit he did. Besides, I hated pretending to be happy and lying in my friends' faces when the fact of the matter is I wasn't.
This time I didn't have any bruises or anything, but I was fucked up. That moment when Pi'erre stuck his hand right through me kept replying over and over again. I would have nightmares about it every night; I would wake from my sleep, realizing I was on the floor where my blood stained the hardwood because I had sleepwalked. I would wake up on the spot I died reliving my last breaths over and over.
After a few weeks, I realized Pi'erre wasn't coming back. I cried about him over those few weeks, but after a while, that stopped too. My love for him dissipated, and a new feeling arrived: hatred. I wanted to kill him, but I was still scared of him.
Another thing I noticed, I hadn't eaten in weeks.
My stomach was growling really bad. We had no food in the fridge, so I decided to go out and get some. It was dark outside probably past midnight. I didn't know. I didn't feel like driving, so I walked to the nearest corner store. My body felt colder than usual, and I was just so fucking hungry.
As I was walking down the street, I saw an old white man going into the alley. I could feel my stomach rumble at the sight of him. What the hell is wrong with me? Why is my hunger increasing at the site of an old ass, dusty, white man?
Instinctively, I followed him, forgetting my original path or direction I was supposed to be going in, what was the corner store.
I trailed him for a couple of blocks finding myself creeping closer and closer to him. Once I approached the man, I had really realized what Pi'erre had done to me. He turned me into a monster.
