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Me, Chastity Vase

Me, Chastity Vase
My name is Chastity Vase

ABOUT ME

I met, knew and fell deeply in love with a vampire named Danny once but I have to be very careful about how I discuss our unorthodox relationship. Otherwise people will think that you are messed up in the head ; you know crazy, need some time to finger paint and pop your daily meds in a room with no windows and no sharp objects. And yes a place where a strait jacket awaits you if you even yawn too widely.



I learned my lesson from that first dark medicated haze of rage behind those dark, putrid padded walls in the psych- ward and I’m not going back there ever, ever again. Yes, I’ll tell you my wild vampire story ! They can’t stop me from talking and telling a story! But I have to be careful it ’s all in how tell I the story. Before they locked me up I was vehemently and desperately trying to share facts that I could not prove and that made me look crazy.



Out of my own blood sweat and tears I’ve come to realize that there is a very thin line between fact and fiction. So when Mom discovers and she will discover that I’m talking about Danny again and says, “YOU ARE BECOMING DILUSIONAL AGAIN!!! ” I will say, “No my dear, you are delusional . Can’t you see that I’m only telling a vampire tale. Not living one!” She and Dr. Soft will never trick me into saying that I believe that it is a fact again. But I do-- yet I don’t--- but I do--- Yet I don’t . Do-- do-- do!!! Don’t --- don’t--- don’t !



This is nonsense , I know but it protects me so that I can tell you without fear of being locked up again ; all the things that happened between me and my vampire . I’ll start here just talking with you as though you are a friend that I can trust.

PROLOGUE

Everyone behind bars says ,“I didn’t do it. I am not guilty but I really didn’t do it ! ! I did not kill dad and I am being released today. Dr. Soft is letting me out the North Austin asylum and I get to go home. Mom is supposed to watch me carefully for signs of violence, confusion and suicidal thoughts.



“Mainly you are to watch her for violence and call us right away if she threatens you with violence!” Dr. Soft warns my mother in a voice laced with confusion as they talk about me in hushed voices outside of my padded door.



“I don’t understand why you want her out of here? She’s so dangerous! I just don’t know why you want her out?” Dr. Soft quizzes my mother. “She might get up in the middle of the night and cut your head off.” It’s the money! I know why she wants me home. I mumble this to myself. Mom needs money because greedy Mamma has gone through all of the stacks of cash that Danny Habba left piled high for us on the kitchen table. Mainly for me !



Danny left that money piled high on the table for me ! But my mother got control of it all and has spent every bit of it while I’m locked away in here. Now she is wondering if I have any more money hidden away. She wonders knowing that because of my poverty riddled life I can hang on to a dime until Roosevelt says he’s being choked . She’s right I did take some of the stash and hide it.



I have about two hundred thousand of those crisp one hundred dollars bills hidden away in two hat boxes in my mother’s closet: the very last place that she would look. So she’s bringing me home because she can’t find the money anywhere in the house and she needs to spy on me or try to persuade me to tell her where it is, lol a thousand times. I’ll part with every tooth in my head before I give up that money. I am not lying!!!!



The conversation outside of the door seeps beneath it in muffled words. And he insists that she keep me on my medications and tells her AGAIN to call him the minute violence surfaces in me. His voice is intense when he says this. “Get away from her and hide as soon as possible!”



And he promises that the big hog of a woman and scrawny, lizard face man that dragged me out of my basement and jammed the hypodermic needle in my neck the first time will gladly do it to me again. I heard Mom purr like a satisfied cat on hearing that news because she’ll invent any lie to send me back after she gets the money. She promises him to keep a hawks eye on me and my propensity toward killing. Mom watching me lol? What a laugh!!



She’s a prescription druggy in every dysfunctional sense of the word . She knows very well that I did not kill Dad! I did not string Dad up by a bunch of wires and kill him by punching a lot of holes in his head and body with a nail gun. I did not watch him bleed outtt and if I did let him bleed out why couldn’t they find any traces of blood around the body ? Where was the blood? All the idiot experts could think of was a nail gun for all of the puncture wounds .



I did not do it ! I never touched him! But Dad deserves to be dead. I would have done but I just didn’t have the guts to do it. I know who did have the guts and he didn’t kill him with a nail gun either. I feel like saying some awful words but I don’t use profanity. My Dad cussed all the time and I believe it made him meaner and uglier. I think cussing takes away gentleness and civility, it makes a person beastly and mean and insensitive to the feelings and needs of others. Dad was such a beast to me so I ‘ll just take off a letter or two when I talk about him and you ’ll know what I would say about him if I used profanity.



That ASTARD got just what he deserved when the vampire killed him and I’m not loosing any more tears over him! I cried once over his pitiful mutilated body because he is my father . But while I was crying over what was left of his dead body my mind went back to his brutal treatment of me. I don’t know how many times and how hard that lousy ASTARD punched me just below the stomach leaving my ovaries and uterus just throbbing ; I was in excruciating pain. He hit me so hard in my womb anytime that he wanted to hurt me. The pain lingered on for so long after his brutal bludgeoning and I hobbled around for at least a month after his assault. I always healed up just in time to have my cycle come on and almost kill me squeezing through my bruised and swollen fallopian tubes. HE GOT WHAT HE DESERVED!! I’M GLAD HE’S DEAD!





Mom got the living ELL beat out of her a couple of times too but it was mostly overweight me, Chastity Vase , who was the whipping post. I was overweight then. I’m not now, I lost the weight and almost fell through the cracks of anorexia during the craziness of being in love with a vampire. Anyway I’m Chastity Vase and my last name sounds like that uppity way that snooty people say flower vase (VOZZZZZZ).



I am anything but uppity. I’ve always been a victim just trying to survive . I have never been, well liked or loved by anyone ever ; that was until one night while walking through a lightning storm that love found me. I was trying to Commit suicide holding up a metal umbrella and trying to be struck and killed by lightning when a vampire found me . He was a rock star , freshly turned vampire looking for a home because he was being hunted and feared being killed by the oldest vampire in the world, Music Mogul JAKE LARS. Jake Lars was gaining on him and wanted to kill him. Because Danny killed Jake’s daughter, DAHLIA: who happened to be a vampire who loved to plunge her teeth into the fat bellies of infants!Danny being newly turned, was not good with that yet.



So I took him home with me and let him hide in my basement. My vampire didn’t like the way my father was treating me and changed some things when he got there. The vampire rock star turned my life upside down literally in a fantastic way. Danny took me on plane rides . We raced through the clouds in his 2 seater. Danny was so handsome and strong . He was always laughing and wildly strumming his guitar and begging me to dance with him. Me ! I still can’t believe it.



But my heart tells me every bit of it happened and was real. Danny showed a fat girl like me a world that I never even thought existed and definitely never thought that I could be a real part of it.. Dad lost his life in the process of my transformation ; and although it doesn’t seem that way to those around me now; I gained my life in the process.



Check out the photos on this blog, and meet the players in HOW I MET MY VAMPIRE and read my story here. I’d love to get a review from you.



(Please see chapters 1-3 on my Blog Archive.)



HOW I MET MY VAMPIRE (Chapter 3)




Chapter Three

“Does your heart beat?” I asked this question because I couldn’t think of anything else to ask Danny Habba, the vampire. I was sitting down in the lonely black leather chair which faced the windowless wall to nowhere. What a lonely place his place was. It reminded me of a prison with it’s gray concrete walls and hard grainy cement floors Danny Habba was walking around strumming his guitar and there were no words for how handsome he looked. He looked, intense and consumed with the emotional cords that he plucked with robot fast fingers.
“No,” he stopped and walked over to me. He kneeled down, reached for my hand and placed it over the place where his heart used to be. His hands were cold, and when he let go of my hand a raised red burn was left stinging as if a bee had just stung the back of my hand.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His voice was sad and he kicked his guitar across the room. “I don’t have a heart and I don’t have a soul, Chastity Vase. I’m in pain right now because I need blood, I need to (he said the latter in a whisper) feed.”
I squirmed in my chair. The one window to the right of me had been spray painted black. There was a door over to the far left corner of the small room. But what use would that be for me against the vampire’s speed?
“If I wanted your blood, there would be no way at all that you could stop me from getting it.”
I watched him turn and direct his tall masculine frame toward the tiny white refrigerator in the corner.
“Would offer you a cold one, but I think you’d decline.”
Once again his voice was soft and in his throat. He bit the corner off of ten packs of pig’s blood gulped them down one after the other and stopped twitching.
“I twitch and my insides turn to acid when I need blood. That’s why when I touched you, I burned your hand .” He wiped a dark red almost black strand of blood from the corner of his chin onto the back of his hand ; then licked it off.
I noticed that Danny was wearing his stage outfit, the one that I saw him wearing the night that he collected all of those grammys’, nine I believe. He was wearing
tight black leather pants with broad gold stripes zigzagging down each side. He was wearing his trademark loose fitting gold silk shirt with hardly any buttons showing off well defined Pec muscles.
I wondered if Danny wore that same outfit all of the time? Did he ever get to change into something else. I bet he looked really great in jeans and a muscle shirt. I wanted to know everything that there was to know about Danny Habba. I had so many questions.
If he answered me fine, and if he didn’t fine, but I had to ask him.
“Do you ever kill humans, drink their blood?” I braced myself for the answer.
“Of course.” He didn’t bat an eye in admitting that he killed humans.
“Cold pig blood is a poor substitute for the real thing.. It’s like taking an aspirin when you’re in morphine pain.”
“You kill humans?” I asked him unable to accept that Danny Habba was a cold-blooded killer who stalked unsuspecting humans in the night and sucked them dry. I tried to understand why he did what he did.
I stammered, “be because you’re in so much pain at the time and the acid will kill you if you don’t get human blood, you’re just protecting yourself.”
“ You are partly right.” He addressed me from the corner of the room, where he’d kicked his guitar. He picked it up, kissed it and began to softly play. He tenderly stroked the strings, making them sound like words, wounded crystal clear words.
“I could exist on pig’s blood if I wanted to but I don’t want to. I like my blood warm and flowing. I like getting the last drop and feeling the surrender that comes from hearing the last breath stop fighting for air.” His eyes glowed and his handsome face was a hard mask of chiseled stone.
His face softened and he smiled . “ I know it sounds horrible, wicked, hideous, and cruel, but it is what it is and I am what I am, a vampire. A killer.”
“Then why didn’t you kill me?”
“I was going to do just that, kill you. I began following you the moment that I saw you walking around alone in the midst of the dangerous thunderstorm. You were carrying that metal umbrella. I was hungry, needed to feed and there you were, Chastity Vase, waiting to be gotten.”
“Then why didn’t you get me? You are a killer who loves your work?”
“ I never said love, I said am. I am what I am. I am A VAMPIRE WHO SAVED YOUR LIFE AND YOU OWE ME.”
“Owe you? What could I possibly do for you? Other than give you my blood ? ” I didn’t mean to say the latter. It just slipped out and Danny laughed as I placed my hand over my wildly pulsating throat.
“Take me home with you. I don’t eat much,” he laughed but his eyes were serious. He wanted to come home with me.
“What’s wrong with here, wherever here is?” I didn’t have a clue where he’d brought me.
I was kind of surprised at his request to come home with me; really but not really because I was in a realm, void of reality and normalcy. I was in a realm where vampires existed and young girls knew them for the blood thirsty killers that they were and yet still wanted to trust them and be near them. I wanted to spend time with Danny. I loved being near him. When he came close to me; it just set my heart pounding ! How I wanted to stay around him.”
“That can be arranged,” he said smiling and staring deep into my eyes.
He stood there, his guitar in hand gazing at me with those fabulous eyes of his. I realized that he was assessing, reading my mind. How long had he been doing it, and what had I been thinking that I did not want him to know?
“Someone’s trying to kill me and I need a place to hide because I’m not ready to die! I want to live!” Danny Habba confessed, almost pleaded with me to take him home with me.
“Who wants to kill you?” I definitely didn’t see him as a victim.
Danny picked up his laptop and opened it. I watched his fingers striking the keys .
“Him! He wants me dead!”
He placed the laptop in my lap and I was staring down at a picture of music mogul Jake Lars.
“First of all you’re already dead and Jake Lars is the man who put you on the map and made you into a world famous star when you were alive and he thinks you’re dead.
No one was more devastated over your untimely death than he was . The man called you his son and went into mourning and left the music industry to grieve when you wrapped yourself around that pole. I read all of this on your fan site. I know that I’m not really thinking clearly and my perception of what is going on around me is not absolutely solid. But what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Jake Lars is the world’s oldest vampires and he --”
I cut Danny off, this was getting weirder by the minute. Was I now suppose to believe that Jake Lars a man that was known to have the Midas touch and who was so famous that his life was an open book was a vampire? But not only a vampire but the
World’s oldest vampire?
“He’s a vampire alright and he wants me vampire-dead as in staked, beheaded , left in

the sun to dry up and die! I don’t have any reason to lie to you Chastity Vase. If you can see me standing right in front of you and I’m suppose to be dead but clearly not then why so much trouble with seeing that punk Lars for what he is?”
This whole thing that Danny was saying was incredulous. Jake Lars!! Everyone loved Uncle Jake. He contributed to animal charities. He helped the needy and the poor. Every year he opened his house up and let the needy people come in, he made sure that he found homes for them. He took them off of the street----some of them he kept with him and they worked for him. Why was Danny making up lies on Uncle Jake?
Danny was angry with me and blood began to ooze from his eyes.
I didn‘t for one moment think that the blood that was dripping from his eyes meant that he was crying tender bloody tears. Rage! Rage! Vampire rage was what Danny Habba was feeling against me right now and I wondered if the rage would push every bit of Danny away and cause the vampire to kill me.
“Are you going to take me home with you are not ?” He dropped three drained bags of pig‘s blood on to the floor then swiftly bobbed his head from left to right snapping his neck.
“You owe me and if we ’re going to go to your house, we need to go before night.” He said through clinched teeth . He smiled but it was forced; he tried to squelch the anger that he felt for me. It was apparent to me that my doubt meant betrayal in his eyes.
“Before night?” I asked as tenderly as possible trying not to further enrage him. But how was he a vampire going to go out before night?
“I got this in the middle east.” He stressed , yanking down one of the sheet-sized heavy curtains surrounding his bed. “The black color is darker than coal, blacker than anything on earth and it repels the sun,” Danny stated flatly still irate.
“Are we going to your house Chastity Vase and are you going to invite me in once we get there?” Danny Habba was draped from head to toe in a cloak of the blackest blackness. I could not see his face. Absolutely none of his skin was visible.
What choice did I have? I’d already witnessed first hand the bleeding eyes when he became angry. If I said no, what reason would the vampire have to keep me alive?
“Yes we are going to my house but you have to promise me----- you must stay down in the basement once we get there.”
“I will, I’ll let you have your privacy--no one understands the need for privacy more than a vampire.” Danny Habba promised but could I believe him?

HOW I MET MY VAMPIRE (Chapter 2)


Chapter Two


Danny Habba’s electric guitar boomed loudly shattering the darkness. I woke up somewhere in a strange big bed with black curtains drawn around it. It was dark inside of the curtained walls and a strong smell of something old and stale, like an attic trunk, burned my nostrils.
Danny Habba’s music was already loud enough to wake the dead and someone was turning it up even louder. I covered my ears so that my eardrums wouldn’t burst and bleed. I wasn’t myself, my mind was slow and I could not focus to remember a terror, or fear that I should have been feeling, and remembering. But for some reason I couldn’t remember what had happened to me.
Each time I tried to remember what I should be worried about my thick, syrupy thoughts met a brick wall and stuck to it; sliding slowly down and disintegrating.
“Please turn the music down,” I mumbled because the loud, acoustic guitar was booming and vibrating so loud that the curtain on my tomb like bed were swaying and shaking.
“Please turn that frickin’ music down!” I pleaded through clinched teeth.
“You don’t like my music?” The rich voice asked, faking sadness.
“ You don’t like Danny Habba? Boo-hoo-boo-hoo,” he laughed and turned the music up even louder.
“Turn that music down! My head is splitting,” I pleaded.
I was in some wave of madness here, wherever here was. There was something so wrong with this big bed with the curtains and musty attic trunk smell. Where was I?
And why wasn’t I more concerned about---about-- I didn’t know or quite remember why I was where I was. I couldn’t remember what it was that I was supposed to be concerned about.
“Come out dance with me.”
The curtain opened and Danny Habba, teen heart throb, Danny Habba best guitarist that had ever lived, Danny Habba best guitarist that ever died…Danny Habba?
“ Baaaa---nana------da--da--dum. Baaaaaa---naaaa---daaaaa---daaa---daaaa---daa-daa.”
He was striking the strings fast, furiously, beautiful, wonderfully, soooo perfectly.
Dead Danny Habba was playing the song Unreachable Girl. He had gotten 10 Grammies for that album.
“ Baaaa--naaa-naaa--daa--daaa-dum. Baaa--naaa---naaa-daaa-daaa-daa--dum.Baaaa--naaa-naaa--daa--daaa-dum. Baaa--naaa---naaa-daaaa-daaa-daa--dum,” he played. Danny Habba was playing his guitar right in front of me. He was standing there, strumming and weaving strings in and out in a way that no one had ever or would again, but how was he?
TEEN HEART THROB DANNY HABBA KILLED IN MYSTERY CAR CRASH DAY AFTER GRAMMY!!! The headlines were everywhere!
“Come on unreachable girl and dance with me!”
I was suddenly up on my feet in Danny Habba’s arms, dancing around with him and his guitar. He let me go and began playing again.
Even though I am extremely shy and not ugly, but definitely not pretty. I’m 25 pounds overweight---which is a lot but on a 5ft 2’ frame, it’s quite noticeable. But with Danny Habba standing there playing Unreachable Girl, I began dancing and trying to twist my hips and dance the way that the popular girls at school danced, when the boys smiled at them.
“ Go Chastity Vase, Unreachable Girl! Go Chastity Vase, Unreachable Girl!”
Handsome Danny Habba, Beautiful Danny Habba, is playing his guitar for me, Chastity Vase.
But wait! How does Danny Habba know that my name is Chastity Vase?
How is dead Danny Habba here playing his guitar and where is here? I stopped dancing and looked at my surroundings. Candles were burning on small tables in a large room. A small dorm size refrigerator sat in the corner next to a portable television. A small stack of current magazines with Danny Habba’s pictures gracing each cover were all in the seat of one lonely leather chair that faced a windowless wall.
Finally, I looked back towards Danny Habba. I didn’t really know what to say. Was I crazy or something? I must be crazy, what else could explain Danny Habba?
I wondered because how could any of this be reality for flesh and blood people?
Then quite suddenly I remembered the falling tree that had been struck by lightning. I remembered how the mighty current of water, rushed past my ankles, and how it made me lose my balance and fall backwards.
“I want to live! I want to live!”
Those were the last thoughts on my mind as I watched the burning tree leap for me.
Was I dead? Was this why I could see and hear Danny Habba? Oh no! Oh no!
I felt tears rolling down my cheeks! Stupid! Stupid me! My need to be in the popular crowd ; around those stupid girls, had cost me my life. And now I was a dead girl.
“Take a seat, Chastity. And let me school you, unreachable girl, in what is happening to you.”
I wanted to cringe when he called me, Ordinary Chastity, “Unreachable Girl.” For a moment I felt that he was making fun of me, but those famous dark eyes of Danny’s were known all over the world for their warmth and intensity. He would never make fun of me. I felt special inside as he looked at me. I was empowered as I stared into his eyes . “Unreachable Girl.”, he called to me again and I gladly sat down in his one chair and waited to hear what he had to tell me about what was happening to me.

HOW I MET MY VAMPIRE (Chapter 1)







Chapter One

I met my darling vampire at the lowest point of my life. My minister would
be alarmed to hear me say this to you but it’s true, so I’ll say this to you . When I met my vampire I was thinking of killing myself.
Nope not with a gun to the mouth and bullet to the brain, not with a sharp razor blade to the wrist or even an overdose of Mom’s Xanx or valium that she eats like candy . A Lightning Storm ! I wanted the lightning to do what I was too much of a coward to do with my own hands.
I planned to be intentionally struck by lightning. And getting struck would be so easy for me to do because Texas is going through it’s yearly thunderstorm season . People are getting struck all the time and dropping like flies.
Living was so hard for me, everyday was so hard for me! I wanted to be soooo dead ; until my 19 yr old, living- dead vampire showed me how awesome and exhilarating one minute of being truly alive could feel. He taught me everything! He showed me everything and I will be forever grateful that he stepped in and stopped me from volunteering to go in to that dead zone of no return.
But before I say anymore, let me tell you how all of this wonderful change happened .
I will share with you how I switched from one moment wanting to be a dead girl, to being a fulfilled girl with a zest for life. You will see how I went from being a glutton who could barely find jeans to cover her ample posterior ; to making sure I took in enough calories to stay healthy and alive and away from anorexia.
I’ll start with him! I’ll start with meeting him, falling desperately in love with him even though I knew that his dark psyche would never allow him to love me in return. I truly, desperately , tragically fell so hard in love with him. So hard! This is how it happened.
It was about twelve o’clock midnight when the deafening clap of thunder that was loud enough to wake the dead illuminated my bedroom. The entire house was shaking and I was rousted from what had been my usual, wasted and restless daze. I am an insomniac, always tired but can never sleep.
I got up and got dressed as quickly as I could . I hoped that Mom was in the same Xanax induced coma that she was in every night--- I didn’t want her to wake up
right now ; I couldn‘t take the sight of that woman right now!
“Please stay where you are, in the land of the comatose, Mom.” I begged under my breath , working as fast as I could to get out before she came anywhere near me.
I didn’t want her to stagger into the room and ask me if I had heard the earsplitting thunder. She disgusted me with her tear stained, puffy, defeated face. And I just could not bear to watch her loose her balance and fall over on my bed again.
“ I love you my babeeeeee.” She ’d say in a mushy whisper fumbling her way up and trying to straighten my collar ; and I wasn’t even wearing one.
Mom would then start apologizing to me once again for what Dad had done to us for the third time . The third fricking time!!!
But why hadn’t she left him when he moved in with secretary number one? Why hadn’t she left him when he moved in with secretary number two? Why hadn’t she left him when he hit her and shoved me to the floor for coming to her defense.
If Mom had done that then we wouldn’t have been around to be divorced by Dad and tossed aside for his new wife and child . Why hadn’t she done something about his worthlessness over the years.
And just maybe I wouldn’t have gained so much weight, maybe I wouldn’t be so chubby. I’m not fat but I am chubby and frumpy. I am small framed , 5ft 2inches tall and weigh 151 pounds. Once at my old school in the land of the extremely thin and the extremely beautiful: I went to the school nurse because I had a headache . I wanted to get two Tylenol because we didn’t have any at home.
She looked at me with such alarm in her eyes as if I was a morbidly obese person who needed to be cut out of my house! The oval faced beauty with the willowy body sent me out of her office with a note to give to our school therapist.. I read the folded note before giving it to her. This girl needs immediate help. She is huge and seems disgruntled. Is there any immediate help that you can give her. I fear she might harm herself or others! Please see her today!”
I placed the note into the gray haired pale woman .s hand ; whose desk was piled high with gift baskets and flowers. She read my note , and placed it face down on top of a card that read, We’re going to miss you, please enjoy your retirement in Barbados! She began to write on the back of the same note that the pretty nurse had sent.

“She’ll be fine, these excess pounds are needed ! I’ve seen them before, they are comfort-control pounds. She won’t harm anyone unless they stand in the way of her donuts !” She continued to write and gave me the note to take back to the nurse.
The Beverly Hills High therapist called my excess pounds “comfort -control pounds”. She said that I was a girl who’d had a melt down because of severe stress. She claimed that I put on twenty-five excess pounds to get some control over my life. How insane! How stupid and crazy ; she was to say such a thing! These pounds have brought me anything but comfort and anything but control! Over anything---ever!!! Ever!!!!! No control!
I Chastity Vase have never had control over anything that happens in my life, except ending it.!!!!!
I grabbed the black metal umbrella from beneath my bed ; the perfectly pleated, tin umbrella was made by the boys in metal shop class. They made it as a favor for the popular beauties. The popular beauties spray painted it purple and green , the school colors; and passed it to me with my instructions. I was supposed to die a juicy death as soon as possible.
The wait had not been long for the weatherman’s predicted thunderstorm. I walked briskly and the pounding rain struck the metal umbrella.
The bright, orange lightning, a felon’s claw cut through the black sky above me. It was scary and promised to incinerate me just as it had burned and instantly killed the three golfers last week. The golfers had disobeyed the weatherman : he warned everyone to stay inside calling the influx of thunderstorms ,“The Killing Mafia.”
Even though I had been waiting for a way out of my horrible, hopeless, life,; I was still nervous and uneasy about actually turning my fantasy into a reality. I was beginning to feel very scared and vomited, startled as the lightning struck a large elm ; a couple of feet to the right of me!
The tree started to burn and became a red, sizzling inferno with a large pair of flapping wings that flared out on it’ sides. It was as if the tree tried with all of it’s might to protest it’s merciless slaughter. But could do nothing. The lightning burned through the tree quickly; caused it to fall and dissolve into a smoking heap of nothing.
Just that quickly , right before my eyes the tree was reduced to shards of nothing.
It terrified me to see something as sturdy as a tree gone in an instant. Just like that!
The strong sturdy oak was probably more than a hundred years old but was defenseless against a destructive force that had no solid form; but would zap and kill anything that got in it’s way.
I was in it’s way and offering myself to be slaughtered by it. I thought of myself, my living breathing body and how I was about to become a smoldering dead heap of nothing , just like the tree.
Thinking day and night about killing myself was one thing . But actually doing it, existing no more, and ending all of my misery ; was another thing.
Your misery will just be beginning!! !
My ministers voice ricocheted through my tired brain . I didn’t want to think of him ! He would just remind me that my punishment for ending my God given Life would be waiting for me as soon as I closed my eyes.
I couldn’t think about his sermons. I blocked them out of my mind as I trudged through the ankle deep water. Getting this over with before I lost my nerve was the only thing on my mind.
My video camera hung on my neck but how was I going to record my electrocution? The powers that be at Warren High had instructed me to record my walk through the lightning. Wink, wink. Even an idiot like me knew, that it meant record my own death.
The girls wanted proof that I’d walked through a lightning storm and survived . If I couldn’t prove it then no one would believe that I had done it. My mind was unclear and merging into doubt and confusion. Did I want to survive this walk? I didn’t know! I didn’t really know what I wanted anymore!
But I couldn’t record this! The heavy rain was a thick, smoky fog and visibility was out of the question.. The girls from school would just have to understand that. How could I be expected to control all of the smoky fog created by the rain?
Heavy splatters of rain struck my shoulders, face and camera lens. My face hurt and I was feeling so angry! Why was my life so messed up? Why couldn’t I have been born pretty ? If not pretty why couldn’t I have been thin? Why couldn’t I have been confident , strong and focused with personality and charisma? Why couldn’t I have been born anyone but me?
I hated me !! How I hated Me! I was feeling so angry as the fierce rain pounded against my camera lens. My camera was so useless during this down pour! It was as useless and worthless as the girls who wanted me dead for a short-lived, cheap thrill to gossip about over their lunch of bottled water and one slice of peach.
I felt so cheated and so angry; but I was mostly angry at myself! I was the useless, worthless idiot who was going to give them their thrill-----there is no fool like a compliant fool-----I read that somewhere and never had it been more true.
With each deafening clap of thunder, and each switch of lightning that shocked the flooding ground next to me: I hated myself and those girls at Warren High and their smug, giggling faces as they passed me the umbrella. But as I said, mostly I hated my worthless, cowardly self for taking the umbrella from them. Why I took it, I will never know. Maybe I was like Mom , a door mat through and through. I wondered if I inherited that miserable trait of self loathing and weakness from Mom.
You see I was the one who approached these popular girls. These lip implant, boob implant, hair extension wearing girls didn’t come to me and start picking on me and bullying me. I went to them on bended knee and I begged them to be their flunky. I went over to their lunch table when I first got to Warren High from Beverly Hills. I begged to do all of their homework and I promised them that they would never get less than a B on any assignment .
“ Eeww! You’re fat and ugly---go away !” I heard those words amidst laughter and I was told that if I really wanted to be their servant I had to prove it by recording my death, walk through a terrible lightning storm on my video camera.
Sylvia and her death mob knew that I wouldn’t survive it and I knew that I wouldn’t survive it . But still I agreed to do it. I took the metal umbrella from their hands. Even when I agreed to do it, walk this silly and malicious death walk, they wouldn’t commit to me. I kept asking them , if I made it could I be their flunky? Could I be their imbecile? Could I be their fool?
They said if I survived it; then they would see what was to be done with me. Just maybe I’d measure up to being their flunky. Or maybe I’d have to pass one more test and then I could do their bidding. I smiled and accepted the umbrella.
I guess I accepted because # 1. I didn’t care if I was struck and #2. I didn’t want to be invisible anymore. I couldn’t be invisible anymore.
The entire time that I was in school in Beverly Hills from Pre-K until we left there in the middle of my senior year a week ago, I was invisible. Misery doesn’t even begin to describe the torture that I endured being invisible.
Students just literally spilled milk on me without even saying, “sorry.” They’d step down hard on my toe in a crowded hall; shove me face first violently into the wall when speeding past as they rush off to do something fun!
They say, “oops---sorry”, to everyone else but when you’re invisible no one says a word to you all day long. I couldn’t be invisible again and live through it!
I needed to be seen and noticed even if it was only to be rushed up to by one of the popular crowd just before class bell and have homework snatched from my hands without one kind word being uttered to me. They didn’t have to say thank you , or even acknowledge that they took the report from my hands. They were scanning the crowded hall looking for me, needing something from me and that was a start .------ any shabby treatment was better than being invisible!
As I said invisible -- that feeling is the worst of the worst or so it seemed until I stumbled backwards from the powerful water current pooling at my ankles. The water was deep and my head struck the current and went beneath. I swallowed a mouthful of water. I couldn’t see and was trying to brush the water out of my eyes. Fear surpassed invisible the worst of the worst , just that. quick. I was terrified and was being pulled along like a leaf in the wind by the strong water current. I couldn’t lift my body because I was covered in water but I could lift my head . Another tree had been struck by lightning and was sailing towards me wrapped in hungry, fiery flames! That feeling of fear was the worst of the worst.
I realized that I wanted to be alive more than anything in the world but I was going to experience an excruciatingly painful death . The lightning struck tree was going to be the last thing that I ever saw or felt. No matter how quickly I met my end it was not going to be fast enough. I could hear the crackling of the burning tree and feel the heat that was coming straight for my flesh.
“ Uh!” I screamed . Uhhhhhhh! ”
But something grabbed me with powerful arms . Something swooped me up ; saving me before the flames could take the life that I so dearly wanted . I realized that I did not want to die but to be alive more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
I didn’t know at the time that it was my vampire holding me so tightly and flying through the powerful rain with me in his arms . It was wild as he flew with me, a mighty missile through the blackened skies to his lair.


(Please see Chapter 2 on my blog)