Previously: Deidre finds a website about Vampires. He learns that his scholarship is no good and the school has no money putting him in danger of getting kicked out.
I'm not good with emotions. Thank God I didn't have a lot to do given my classes kicked me out for PUMPAGING. At Seraphim Prime if you get a PG on your report card or other. It's because you aren't doing the fucking work given. Mr. Burgess even gave me a list of my classes.
Accompanied by a brief notice
At some point, I placed the notice on my bed and started looking around my dingy apartment. Brown stains in corners of the room, a roach crawling from under the closet. A flying running into the curtains on the window near the bottom of my bed.
My carpet a dark blue with stains from soda and jack-off sessions. I pay 300 hundred dollars for this shitty apartment. It was shitty when I got here and even shitty. My landlord won't fix my pipes in the kitchen so every time I run the water it drains from under the sink. The floor gets so drained in water, it caved in so now I have a hole in the floor.
The landlord said it wasn't his problem and I had to drop seven-hundred for that. To get to that type of money I withheld my rent for three months. Told the landlord he would get paid when I fixed my floor.
When I received my rent after three months. It was 1,000 dollars. He called it backdraft payments.
Now, I'm broke as hell.
The note he gave me in school said to go to 40907 De Chardin Lane. I forgot to pay my wifi bill that's 45 dollars a month, can't use google.
Sitting on my bed with my hands lifting my head in thought. One eye leaks and the other follows. I've been bullshitting this whole time. I can't even call Lynn even though she wouldn't be any support.
I bet she's in the same boat. Her parents kicked her out of the house for sucking the neighbor's dick and to quote her aggressive Christian mother. The Lord would not allow such sodamisic behaviors conspired by the devil himself.
Sodamistic isn't even a word. At least that brought some joy to my fucking soul.
I am poor. I could go homeless. I'm just thinking about the scenarios I could be in. My mother used to be a prostitute; dad talked about that a lot. Tall dark-skinned lady with curls. I can't even call my dad... grandma died from a stroke and... I'm fucked.
I have no car so that means I'm walking for God knows how long to get to this place.
Why?
Why did I do this to myself?
I'm failing practically all my classes. I know a dude that sells drugs, he used to go to SPA. Alfie Rowe isn't that far from SPA, though he got a ticket for selling weed in a school zone. But he was like 14 miles away from the school.
I jolt at a tapping at my window. I'm on the fourth floor. I go from irritation to falling off my bed's edge onto the floor as a hand starts creeping up. Claws attached to a coal-colored hand rack at the window.
"What the fuck!" I scurry to get up on the bed and race to my door.
Thank you, life, for insulting my fucking asthma and heart murmur. Death is fine.
Patting my chest, pressing my back against the door. Slow down, 1... 2... 3... breathe. It could have been the shadow of a tree branch—but also take into consideration to what your father used to say.
Accept what you saw and move on.
I guess it's sensible to have a father with a psychology degree.
Turning around I twist the knob and peek inside my room excepting to see the hand still at the window. Instead...
"Hi..."
"FUCK!"
A giant being sits on top of my bed with hands between his knees. Shroud in pure darkness, drool seeping from his jaw. Leaves and branches stuck to his back making him appear of some royal heathen.
I grab the knob again and close the door tight and hurry to the small living. Make yourself laugh, pigeons have on in the name as if they classified as people.
There's a man in my room. I get that. One, call the police. Two, what the fuck are they going to do? Three, arrest the man for breaking and entering. Four, I'M NOT WHITE. My dad's fucking German and Native American I don't know if that counts for anything.
"Hi..." I hear the echo and look back to see the figure holding up the ceiling. I'm just going to keep telling myself I live a small apartment.
My heart picks up speed, my mind is saying get out. My body says move. I know where the door is but nothing says go to it. He's drooling all over himself, his lips coaxed in salvia. "Get out." What is this a movie!
"Hi..." he twitches, his neck bending slowly. "A lie..."
"A lie?" my feet scoot back, hand resting on the couch. The door is right in front of it. Then what? Go downstairs. "What are you doing in my apartment!?"
"Blood..."
"What?"
"Blood... nigga damn." He begins chuckling. "Or bone."
He talks. "I... I ain't got nothin'"
"You do... I could kill you." He straights his back. Eyes flutter revealing dim pink hues. "I'm exhausted."
"What are you!?"
"YOUR BROTHER, BITCH!" The light in the corridor bursts, the cap over the lamp shattered to the floor. "come here... stubborn ass." He starts reaching for me and slide to the floor, dodging it. Rolling towards my open kitchen. I get to my feet. "You remember what mama taught us..."
"What?" the stranger raises his hand, "Adjoo." One of the knives in the kitchen comes flying behind me, striking me in the back of my shoulder. I wince at the pain. He tackles me and licks his lips. "Finally..."
"Get off!" I hiss.
"In a minute..." he's jaw unhinges, this monster starts reaping my neck. I can feel his teeth pinch the muscle and tearing it apart.