Accounts of Ashlen. First night of Fall, year 2017.
"I don't know," he says looking away.
Sam, that's his name. Sam.
He finishes staring at something behind me, locking his eyes to mine again. We study each other for a long time. My emotions are in familiar chaos that just won't leave me in peace.
This guy has some nerve! Approaching me after being involved with that hellish night, but I'm having a hard time outright hating him or even being angry with him in the way I obviously should.
I don't know if it's the expression on his face, there is a definite sadness dwelling in his eyes.
Sympathy wells up every time I look upon his troubled face. I shut it down as soon as I feel that unwanted pity creeping in. I refuse to feel sympathy for someone like him! He may have not hurt me that night but he stood there and did nothing.
I guess he did help me out just now which I'm grateful for but that doesn't excuse his involvement. And why the change of heart, when he just watched the other night? Frustration floods my insides.
"OK, so you helped me tonight but not when your friend was attacking me? *Oh, My Hero!*" I notice him wince at the caustic sarcasm hurled his way. He quickly puts back on his straight faced mask.
My lips curl in irritation. I feel bad for being so harsh... And I shouldn't feel bad! What the hell? Why am I having a hard time hating him!
Not only do I wear my emotions so plainly on my sleeve, I can't hold a grudge or carry false feelings to save my life, even when I want to.
I hiss out a breath of bitterness while turning to the side. My emotions are in control of me, it shouldn't be that way.
"I'm sorry..."
'He's *sorry*?' I glare back when he gives me his delayed apology, about to tell him he can take that worthless admission and shove it up his ass but I hesitate upon looking back. His brows are furrowed as he stares holes into my shoes. The words, the pained expression on his face, he's either an incredible actor or the notion is completely heartfelt.
"There was nothing I could do for you then, I'm sorry." He finishes, looking away but still staring at the ground.
"Well sorry doesn't fix anything," I snap.
"You're right, it doesn't."
I feel like a bitch, how dare he make me feel this way!
"What do you mean you couldn't do anything? You can always do something!" I shout.
He stares me dead in the eyes with that deadly look, "The minute Derek spotted you walking alone outside you were good as dead. The only thing I could have done was speed up the process. And *if* I intervened I'm sure you wouldn't have been the only casualty for the night!"
I'm taken off guard by his sudden aggressive tone, a little stunned. Sam closes his eyes and breaths out slowly.
"And the little I *did* intervene made things worse. He's dead and you're.... undead," he says calmly but his eyes betray him, I see a genuine regret living in them.
I guess he did chastise his friend allowing me to make my temporary escape, but he really couldn't do anything? If he didn't have ill intentions, then why be there at all?
"Oh, so you're just the good guy in all of this, is that it?" my tone is acidic.
His strong jaw ticks, "I never claimed to be a good guy," He says through a frown, his emerald eyes flicker with a faint glow while he glares.
I blink, his moments of intensity always seem to surprise me. I quickly regain my footing.
"Then why! Why did the three of you chase me, what was the purpose of that? What were your intentions!"
Sam looks up at the sky, losing his patience, "Why did you attempt to kill that guy just now? What was *your* purpose for that?"
I pause, mouth hanging open at his unexpected counter question, "I...I wasn't going to kill him."
He knows I'm in denial and cuts in, "Yes, you were going to kill him, you and I both know it. Now tell me why."
"No! I wasn't! I'd never kill someone!"
"Because you're a vampire, along with Derek and I! That is the purpose. You were human so we went after you. Just like you went after that man because he was human. *That's* the unfortunate purpose."
I gawk, not able to say anything back. It's crazy, this was all crazy but he isn't lying. I have experienced it myself, twice. The need for blood is undeniable. It's sinking in, this is the reality.
His eyes wander about my face, taking in my posture as if trying to read me. I haven't a clue as to what he's thinking, but I'm so swamped in my own thoughts anyway.
I know something changed in me, but this is way too fictitious to wrap my brain around. Still, Sam is the second person to tell me I'm undead... a *vampire*. Juniper and Sam were serious, though their stability is questionable.
"I can't understand how you managed to turn. Did you somehow swallow some of Derek's blood? Is he still alive?" He asks softly with a glint of hope when asking about his friend.
"Derek's dead," I tell him outright, and I don't feel bad about that at all.
"I see."
I find him looking unsurprised but glum about the news. I don't particularly like seeing Sam upset, even though I shouldn't care. I should be happy about some justice, but it doesn't make me feel good to see him so sad.
"I don't remember taking any of Derek's.... blood, thankfully, but something killed your friend," I try to lay on the news lighter this time, even though I have no sympathy for Derek dying.
His eyes are burning into me now, very intense and kind of scary.
"Something killed him? Do you know what it was?" the question is verging on interrogating.
They were the ones talking about a reaper, did they not know what was back there?
"Uhhh, I overheard you guys say something about a Reaper. That's what it looked like."
"Did the reaper try to kill you too? What happened?"
He seems way too interested in the reaper and why should I tell him anything?
"Why do you care so much and why would I tell you? I don't know you and I don't trust you! Look, I appreciate the help from before but now I want you to leave me alone, got it?"
I turn walking toward my apartment, wondering if I'm being too rash. He has openly answered most of the questions I've had for him and he may be able to answer more. Maybe it's a bad decision dismissing him so fast.
"Do you even know who turned you? Did they tell you about the rules or the downsides of your new... *condition*?"
I stop, turning to him. I shouldn't be showing him where I'm headed anyway. Sam folds his arms across his chest. He knows I don't know anything, doesn't he?
"I don't get it, why are you offering me help? That is what you're offering, isn't it, Sam?"
His eyebrows raise and mouth relaxes when I say his name but he quickly looks past me, seeming to dive into deep thought.
"I remember being turned and not knowing a damn thing," he says after a while, still staring off in the distance before looking my way again, "So, as far as 'Why', I guess I relate to being alone through that experience, *this* experience. If you want my help, I'll give it to you but if you want me to leave, I'll go."
I'm not sure what to do. I don't have a lot of options when it comes to people just openly offering me help or giving answers like he is, but wouldn't it be stupid to trust someone who's friend tried to kill me?
I purse my lips pulling them to one side as my index finger strokes the bottom lip.
I pull the hand away from my mouth swatting the air, "Fine," I breathe, "I guess I *do* have a few questions I'd like the answers to."
He nods once, I wish his face wasn't so unreadable.
"But, once I tell you to leave, I expect you to beat it," I glare, making direct eye contact.
He lightly snorts and the corners of his lips twitch before putting that mask on again.
My lips curl downward, "You got that?" I say a bit louder.
"Got it," he confirms plainly.
I turn, motioning him to follow, "Alright, I'm going to my apartment."
I start marching toward the Chinese take out place.
"You live in an Asian Restaurant?" I don't turn around but he sounds vaguely amused.
"No... I live *under* the Asian Restaurant," I respond passing the entrance and around the corner of the building where my shabby steps were.
"Oh," I hear from behind as we make our way down the filthy steps.
Standing on the woven doorstep mat I reach into my half apron pocket only to realize phone is missing.
"Damn." I mutter to myself, relieved to feel my wallet. At least that didn't disappear.
"What is it?" Sam questions over my shoulder, closer than I would have liked in the small stairwell.
"My phone is gone, I must have lost it the other day when being chased by a few *maniacs*,"
I don't turn to see his reaction to my snide remark, opening my wallet to retrieve the house key from the zipper coin pocket.
"Your name is Ashlen?" he asks out of the blue.
"Huh?" I glance over my shoulder wondering how he knew that and follow his eyes to the ID in my wallet.
I glare, snapping the wallet shut, "Is it a hobby of yours to stalk people then snoop through their belongings?"
I catch him looking away out of the corner of my eye.
Leaning to put the key in the lock, I hear him speak again, "You should make it look like someone broke in, it's not a good idea to stay here anymore. You shouldn't even be coming back for your things."
"Hmph, she said the same thing," I mutter.
He heard me, "Who said the same thing?"
I turn my head to face him, irritated, pushing the door open.
"You know, I thought you were going to help me out and answer my questions, but you seem to be the one with all the questions."
He shrugs, "You haven't asked any yet."
'Fair', I thought and decide to fill him in a little. I hope he can help me puzzle out the things I don't understand, "When I woke up, there was this woman. She told me to forget about my human life. Basically, that I can't live the way I used to."
He looks alarmed and narrows his eyes. I can tell he wants to ask more but refrains.
"Well, she's right. And living so close to neighbors who are *alive* is never a good idea for us. Unless you enjoy torment."
I go straight for my closet, digging around for my duffel bag.
"Well, I'm getting kicked out next Friday so you don't have to worry."
I snatch my favorite shirt off of a hanger, tossing it in the bag, "Will I always want to kill people?" I can't believe I'm saying this out loud and mean it, "Does it get any easier?"
"The temptation will never go away, but you get used to it. Some days are worse than others and some people make it more difficult."
'Well that sounds delightful!' I think to myself in disappointment, forcefully throwing a pair of shoes in the bag. I look over to see he's still in the stairwell with the door wide open.
"Umm, is there something wrong? What are still doing out there?"
"You didn't invite me in."
I raise my eyebrows wondering, 'Are you a gentlemen, Sam?'
I'm about to tell him to come in, but I suddenly recall a bit of fictional vampire lore. There's no way...
"Sam, are you just being polite or are you physically unable to come in without my say so?" Does this mean I need to be invited inside places, too? That would be insane and annoying!
Sam glances away, "Apparently, it's a weakness from my bloodline. So yeah, I need to be invited in or I stay out," he grumbles in annoyance.
I get up and take a few steps toward him, biting my lip as I think of something devious.
While he's not paying attention I fly over, wrap my arms around his sturdy bicep and tug him inside. He stops at the door frame as if hitting an invisible wall.
My jaw drops and I blink a few times. That was impossible, like a mime come to life!
"Really?" he scoffs, narrowing his eyes at me while slipping his arm out of my hold.
I shrink into my shoulders, smiling timidly. "Uhh, sorry, I just wanted to see what would happen," I laugh a nervous laugh as I back up into my safe apartment.
"Oh? And what if going into an uninvited house killed me? If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to assassinate me," he says with a straight face and direct eye contact.
My mouth falls open, "No, I... I didn't.."
A sideways smile forms on his face and his sly eyes crinkle in amusement as he chuckles.
I frown, "You're a dick! For that, I'm not letting you in."
With that I shut the door on him, hearing a "Really!" from behind after it latches closed. I can't help but giggle to myself.
I quickly grab my most precious things to put into my bag, which is hard because if I had it my way all of it would come with me. I should leave a few things here just in case I have to fall off the grid. I hate thinking about that so I let my mind wander to other things.
My thoughts keep drifting back to Sam's smile, he does admittedly have a breathtaking smile.