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He managed to get half dressed before he realized he was still connected to the IV. Just as he was about to call for Fawn, a nurse walked in, pushing a cart.



"Sit down," she said, and so he did.



She removed the tape holding the needle down, which stung a bit. She then pulled a square of gauze from her cart, covered the top of his hand with it, and pulled. Immediatly the blood soaked the gauze, and her eyes widened as she fumbled for a bandage. As she stuck it on, she gave him a funny look.





"Hmm. Do one's ever bled quite that much," she said to herself.



He followed her out of the room, Fawn waiting, glaring, with her arms folded. After they checked out, they climbed into the car and drove in silence until they got to the house. It was only when they were at the door, Carlos untangling his keys, that he spoke.



"Um, I'm sorry about the blood thing," he said without looking at her.



She didn't speak.



"At the hospital."



She stared at the door, waiting for him to open it.



"How did you convince them to discharge me early?"



Silence.





"Okay," he said, and opened the door.



They stepped inside and Kora immediatly came padding down the stairs to greet them. Carlos lightly pet her on the head and she gave a tiny meow. He then went upstairs to his room, which Forsythia had cleaned for him. The blood stains were scrubbed off his closet wall and all traces of his episode mopped clean. He did, however, feel a presence.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Christabel sat in Carlos' room until he returned. She had missed him so. She had been, for the previous three days, reading the room, as she called it. She placed her tiny hands on the wall, soaking up all that it had to tell. She planned to play her special game with him when he returned, although she had not expected it to be so early. When he walked in, she was confused. Normally, she thought people stayed in the hospital for at least a week, in his condition. But nontheless, she was happy that he was. She waited until he had gotten settled, then crept up and sat at his feet. She had made herself quite transparent, as per usual when she played her game. She liked to sneak up on him.



She started by slowly reaching out her little hand and inserting it into his. He didnt seem to notice, and so the minute he turned his head, she jumped into his body. She rather loved this game. She found it very amusing. Once she hd control, she held her hands in front of her face, as she always did. They were much bigger now, and she giggled as she stretched the fingers out. She then looked at the feet. She was not used to having a body, as she didnt play this game often. It didn't feel quite right this time, however. It never actually felt right when she entered his body, probably because her soul was much too small to fill it, but this time it just felt wrong.



At first, she was not sure that this body was Carlos. She stretched the arms out. This body did not feel like Carlos'. She brought the arm up to her nose and sniffed. This body did not smell like Carlos. She went to the mirror. This body certainly did not look like Carlos. The skin was pale. The eyes were not brown, as they should have been, but a syrupy gold. This surprised her, as well as confused her. She had not seen him since the night she messed up the house. She did not want to mess up the house, but mother had not stopped her. Mother had folded her arms and shaken her head. And so, she had thought, why not? She was, after all, a child with all of eternity ahead of her. Besides, she liked this knew place. She wondered, then, what had happened to Carlos. He had been sick the last time she had visited, that she knew. But now he was different.



The thing that most confused her was his new smell. Before, he smelled of human. He smelled, she thought, of warmth, life, and even a bit like chocolate and she had enjoyed it. But now he smelled empty. He smelled like a hospital, which was to be expected, but also strongly of blood. Of blood and cold. It frightened her a bit. He felt empty too, almost like his soul had gone.



She decided to check. Closing the eyes of her stolen body, she concentrated on the inside. Soon, she was in the labyrinth of his subconcious, swimming down, down, down into the rest of him, searching for the glow. Whenever she played her game, she rather liked to look at his soul. She found it pretty, a swirling, copper and red outline of his physical body. It usually lay just within him, just pulsing on the edges of his body, but now, there was nothing. This frightened her most of all. This shouldn't have been. However, as she was a rather busy child, with a body to rob and games to play, she decided she would ask him about it later, and swam back up into a concious state.



She looked back into the mirror and smiled. She saw two very sharp teeth. Her smile faltered. Having never seen this before, she gently touched one with her finger. Feeling a sharp pain, she yanked it back. It bled. How curious, she thought. She wiped the finger on her new clothing and hurried downstairs.

What the hell was that? she wondered. She laid there for a half hour before deciding it was safe enough to emerge. She crept to the bathroom again and threw on the light, not daring to look at the window. She turned the shower on to scalding and waited until the steam fogged up the glass. She got in, and for a second, the water stung her skin, but eventually, she stopped feeling it. All throughout, she poked her head out of the shower curtain, making sure the grotesque creature was not staring in. When she shut the light off again, she did not even glance.



She sauntered back into her room, drawing the curtains and pulling out a dresser drawer. She decided not to care about what she wore today, and pulled out jeans and the sweatshirt of the college she never went to. Walking back downstairs, she found Fifi fast asleep on the couch. She left a note, grabbed a few packs of blood, and quietly shut the door. She thumbed a button on the car remote, and the headlights of George's BMW blinked, as if to greet her happily. She climbed inside and pulled quickly out of the driveway and onto the street. She stole a glance at the clock glowing on the dashboard; it was still early. Darkness had just set.



Then she wondered why Forsythia had been awake before. Perhaps it was stress. Yes, stress and nothing more. She thought about turning on the radio, but then decided against it. It wouldn't be long until she was at the hospital. When she arrived, there was only one parking space left. Odd, she thought. Then again, it was still early. For her anyway. She went inside and up to Carlos' room, where she did not find him. Convinced he'd probably decided to take a walk down the sterilized halls, she sat down in the bedside chair and waited. She picked up a Martha Stewart magazine and began flipping through it. It wasn't long before Fawn heard the light shuffle of socks on the polished floor, and the squeaky wheels of an IV stand, and he walked to his side of the room.



He stopped when he saw her, seeming for a moment that he had forgotten she would be there, but then smiled.



"You're early." he said.



"So are you. Nurses have been keeping the curtains closed?"



"Yeah."



"Good."



She watched him put the IV stand back where it ought to be, and slowly lay back down. Something odd was that he was emitting a sort of musky scent, and didn't seem groggy as he should have been, considering that he also probably would have still been sleeping. Then she noticed something else: He had blood on his hands. He caught her staring and quickly, yanked the sheet up to his chin, but it was too late. She had seen it.



"Where have you been?" she asked.



"Out."



She glared coldly at him. She didn't like to play games.



"I'm serious. What the hell is that on your hands?"



"Nothing."



"Then you won't mind having some of this." She pulled out one of the bags she had brought and set it on the small table beside him. She had a vague idea of what he had been doing, and if she was right, he wouldn't be hungry.



He stared at the bag, then looked at Fawn, who had her arms folded across her chest and her eyebrows raised.



"I'm not that hungry." he said quietly.



She was getting angry.



"Where. Were. You." She gave him one last chance.



He picked up the remote and switched on the TV, ignoring her question.



"CARLOS!"



"What?"



"Don't fuck around with me. Show me your hands."



He slid out the less bloody of the two and guiltily gave her a little wave. Then, seeing her furious expression, pulled out the other. It was completely stained red. She grabbed it, looking him right in the eyes.



"What is this?" she demanded.



"Y'know, I don't really have to tell you that. You're not my mom." He then squeaked as she squeezed his wrist so hard she might have broken it.



"DO NOT be a smartass with me."





He yanked his wrist from her grasp, now angry himself.



"Why does it even matter?! She didn't need it anyway!"



Fawn sat back.



"She? Who is SHE?"



He sunk down in his bed, the covers now up to his nose.



"I woke up this afternoon after sleeping a little and I was hungry. I knew you wouldn't be here until today, or....well later today, so I....." He trailed off and shrugged, cocking his head to one side. He didn't look at her as he admitted this.



He didn't look at her, because he didn't want to see the look he knew he'd find on her face, and sure enough, when he did look up, her jaw was on the verge of falling right off. When she finally regained the use of her voice, her tone was slow and barely audible.



"You have been stealing blood. From other patients," she said.



He gave her a guilty smile and shrugged again. She stared.



"What is WRONG WITH YOU?"



He jumped at her sudden change in volume. She had never yelled at him before, at least not as bad as he knew he was going to get it this time.



"I was hungry! And they never even knew I just detatch their IV and take a little. Just a little!"



"Oh yeah? No one knew? Then what's THIS?" She held up his hand again. "Is that why there are so many cars outside? Need me to drive you to your court date?"



He looked shocked.



"I didn't KILL anyone! The tube just slipped! Come on you have no idea how an IV site bleeds."





She looked as if she would bite his face.



"Like a waterfall," he said. Then he realized that this piece of information would not help at all.



She said nothing. She only grabbed the washcloth on the side of the bed, walked into the bathroom, emerging moments later with it damp in her hand. She sat back down and started angrily wiping off his hands.



"When are they releasing you?" she asked.



"In three days," he answered.



She shook her head.



"Well no. You're coming home with me. Now."



She grabbed the clothes he had been wearing the day he checked in, threw them at him, and walked out of the room.

She tossed and turned for the majority of the night. Not being able to fall asleep, she gave up and got out of bed, making sure the blinds were closed. She couldnt go outside. She paced across the room. Kora followed. Suddenly, Fawn stopped, causing the kitten to bump into her calf. Thirsty. She was very thirsty. She tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. All of the purple drapes on the window were closed. She opened the refrigerator and looked inside. It was mostly full of bottles and jars full of blood. They were each colored two different colors; the plasma had separated.



Other than that, there was a few slices of individually wrapped processed cheese, some milk, and bread. She shut the door and walked quietly into the living room, where she had set the duffel bag down when they first arrived. She unzipped it and removed one of the surgical bags, snipping it open and flopping onto the couch. She absentmindedly nursed the bag, remembering Carlos a few nights ago. She looked over to the piano, as if he might be sitting there.



She couldn't quite place the tune; perhaps it was a piece he had written on his own. She finisged her snack, ran back upstairs and, without really knowing why, went into Carlos' room. She began rooting through his desk drawer, not really knowing what she wanted. She figured that she was looking for the music. Yes, that was it. She would find it and practice until she was sleepy.



She scooped aside the pencils, papers, erasers, crumpled notes, and various other things to the side, until she came across a book. She picked it up and held it close to her face. It was a leather- bound book, with intertwining patterns on the front. She sat on his bed and opened it. The pages were old, and the leather cracked. This, she thought, made it all the more beautiful. She opened it.



In the middle of the first page was his name. Then, on the second:





Hello my dearest, coldest night,



I am not sleepy. In fact, I do not feel much of anything. And so I sit here, window wide open, waiting. For what? I do not know. Perhaps for the right moment to leave. Waiting for the right moment to stand on the sill, unfurl my feathered wings, and fly. Unfortunately, I'm stuck here. No wings for me.



I breathe in the freezing air. No wings. My bag is under my bed, all ready to go. I hope I don't mess this up. I should stop picking at the cover of this book, but it's one of those things where I don't realize that I'm doing it.



Whatever, anyway. It's freezing. I'm freezing. I'll tell you a secret. I want to be...free. Cold. No, not dead. But a child of the night. A vampire? Yeah. I've had my fair share of experiences. I'll find a way. When that clock ticks midnight, I'm out of here. The house is still, but I need to be sure. I'll put my shoes on outside. I'll shut the door, then I'll run run run. Run until my legs give out. I'll run until I have no idea where I am or how I got there.



Yes.



11:56....11:57......11:58....11:59.....Midnight. Let's go.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





Fawn shut the book. A journal. That's what it was. She knew she shouldn't, but she hugged the book to her chest and walked back to her room, where she stuffed it under her mattress. She flopped on top of it, as if it might prevent anyone from knowing it was there. But suddenly now, she was very tired. She yanked the covers up to her chin and stared at a crack in the full length mirror on the wall across from the bed, that she hadn't noticed before. She thought it looked a bit like a catfish. This was funny, and she buried her face in the down comforter to stifle her laughter. She then let her mind go blank and after a while, she felt her eyelids droop shut.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The next night, Fawn rose and stepped slowly downstairs to find Forsythia bustling around in the kitchen. The house smelled of bleach. As she got closer, she realized that Forsythia was vigorously scrubbing the counters, tabletop, chairs, and even the refridgerator. She looked around for Darius, but he was nowhere to be found. Must have gone home, she figured. Forsythia turned around abruptly and yelped, startled by Fawn's sudden presence.



"Oh! I'm sorry dear, I didn't know you were there," she said. "Would you like a muffin? I made muffins."



Fawn went to the oven as Forsythia directed, and took out a rather large cranberry muffin. The muffin itself was tinted red. Forsythia had probably laced it with blood, Fawn thought. She looked around the kitchen, Forsythia noticing. She shrugged guiltily.



"Yes," she told Fawn, "It's a nervous habit I have...not to worry though, I made the muffins before I started."



Fawn had not even thought about this, and for a second was afraid of the muffin she held, before deciding she didn't care. She felt sorry for Forsythia, actually. But Carlos was to be home in just about a week, if not a few days. Everything would be normal then.



Deep in thought, Fawn nearly choked on a cranberry. Luckily, Forsythia was too busy to notice. Fawn saw that her hands were burned and rubbed absolutely raw from scrubbing. If she didn't slow down, they would heal like a human's wound. She hadn't even realized that Forsythia had been speaking.



"I'm sorry, what?" Fawn said.



"I said you could call me Fifi if you like. Just because....well you know. Forsythia gets to be a bother to say at times."



Fawn nodded, and Fifi splashed the brush back in the bucket. She gripped the counter with both hands and stared at the paper towels hanging in front of her. After what seemed like hours, though it could have only been a few minutes, she straightened up.



"That should be clean enough," she said, grasping the bucket. Fawn could see it shaking in her hands. She took it from her and waddled upstairs to spill it out.



She hoisted the bucket over the edge of the bathtub, sending clear bleach spiraling down the drain. It was all Forsythia had been scrubbing with. She sat on the tub ledge, propping back up against the wall, and watched the liquid go down. The bath was just about empty, and whilst reaching for the showerhead to rinse it out, Fawn heard a scratch on the window. She turned her head slightly, but dismissed it as a branch.



It was difficult for her to tell whether or not she had rinsed it all out, being that the water and bleach were the same color. She set the shower head back on it's holder. Then came the scratching sound again. She felt her stomach tighten; she wasn't so sure anymore that it was a branch, but refused to let herself look.



She shut off the light, but not before seeing the alleged "branch" standing outside the window. There, crouching on an actual branch, was a man, tapping on the window. She stood where she was, frozen in fear. He sat where he was, playfully running his clawlike fingers along the glass. He gave an amused smile, revealing a set of frighteningly sharp teeth. There were many of them, like a shark's, contrary to her two little pointed inscisors.



All she could think to do was close the door slowly, then bolt back to her room, where she dove under the covers.