Previously: Deidre is kept paralyzed by his brother, Aleigha D. Omehia. Aleigha asks him to help carry out their mother's will. Her request is to kill all humans.
Aleigha is nosey for sure. He's been looking through my apartment, wiping dust off the furniture, and eating everything in the refrigerator. This man must be constipated, I had a bag of King's Hawaiian Rolls, and the disrespect that carried as this bitch threw the bag in the trash.
He moves to the largest sofa against the wall in my square living room. "So, how you living?" He sits down with an orange in his hands. Peeling it with his long nails. "Heard you dropped out?"
"No." How am I supposed to deal with my brother who I haven't spoken to or heard about? This is an impromptu visit. "I thought you can't enter a house unless invited?" He splits a slice from the ball of sweet fruit and flicking it into his mouth. He's so pretty it's disgusting.
"Nah, see, that's white vampire bullshit and I ain't Edward or from Vampire Diaries. Different culture." Aleigha scratches his chin. His eyes are a becharming pink hue. Reminds me of the forum.
"So... what's the plan?" If he has one. He smacks down on another defenseless orange slice. Those teeth are fucking wild. Like saber-tooth cat or—ok I'm exaggerating but glistening tainted yellow teeth make me want to pass out. He's black, African background for sure.
Not to be a colorist, he's a pretty shade of fuck me and die.
"Why is everyone in this family so fucking gay..." Aleigha shakes his head disapprovingly. He can hear me. Fuck me.
"Nigga, chill..." he grimaces. Ok, one last piece of gayness. He's wearing this lovely black velvet vest showcasing his well-defined chest. Aleigha clearly doesn't want to fuck with me or the obvious incest. "How's school?"
"I'm dying."
"Cool." He splits the orange and half. "So, how many people go to your school?"
"A couple thousand. Lot's of people getting kicked out or dropping out. Maybe expelled. Why?"
"I wanna kill em." He finishes the poor orange. "You know you ain't supposed to be albino?"
Excuse my mother fucking black ass for being shades lighter than you. "What color am I supposed to be?"
"Dark. Listen, little brother..." I can't wait to hear. "Humans don't like vampires. Especially niggas. Back in the day, mama said, not all white people are the same. True or not, I got a whole new set of feelings."
"Vampires aren't black, purely." I add.
"You right. But we got African, Arab, Indian, and Native. The AA comes from mama side with a pinch of Hindu."
Hindu isn't a race. "I know, smart ass. I'm being funny."
This is all comfortable. Bonding with my pink-eyed brother brings the question, is he albino?
"No," he answers reading my mind. "You have pink eyes because of abuse and racist ass, two faced praisers."
"Go on."
"Deidre. Vampires are segregated. We've been living here." He stretches his arms over the sofa. "But that's not the point. When you were little. Years after our mother escaped from a camp. They took you, after raping her multiple fucking times..." Aleigha's eyes glow a deep pink. "I mean, I don't know if it's bad luck to speak on the dead—let's skip all that sad shit. So anyway." He smooths down his vest and plucks a folded paper out.
I take the letter and read it front to back. My eyes expand. Not a shock but—ok I'm shocked. I'm a runaway orphan? That's funny. That explains why I don't give a fuck. I made myself an orphan. "I'm... stupid." Is all I can say. "I'm on drugs?"
"Maybe." He shrugs. "Deidre, do you have dreams? Mama used to talk about dreams and psychology a lot. It's as if the brain knows, it's trying to get you to remember."
The last dream I had was of a rabbit getting chased by a werewolf or a nigga on four legs. Then I had a sex dream about Beyonce, which was embarrassing. Aleigha starts to snicker, "What happened with Beyonce?"
"No—nothin'"
"Come on, I'm your brother. I'll tell you a dream if you tell me yours."
I know this old ass trick. "Ok. You first."
"So, I had this dream I was naked and running in the woods and I found a mermaid. She's dazzling with a big set of titties and shit. And she starts jiggling, my dick is hard. I start stepping into the water and the water turned black... turned out to be a jip. Damn Loch Ness monster came and ate my fucking feet."
What the great fuck.
"Beyonce laughed at me?"
"Small dick?"
Bitch. My brows crinkle. It's been twelve minutes and I hate him within a day. "Back to the whole, will thing. So, you said, a couple thousand?"
"Yeah, what is it you want to do?" I'm afraid of the answer. Though, I can guess it's murder or otherwise. If I'm killing someone, I'm not going to jail for anything. I'll lie and say he did and walk free.
Aleigha gazes at my ceiling fan and sucks his fangs. "You know a girl named Lynn McKay?"
"Yeah, she's a couple years older than me. But we share Chemistry together."
"Tell me about her."
"For instance?" She's dead. She's fucking dead and I'm helping him kill one of my few friends. "Height, hobbies, be fucking descriptive."
I don't know shit about that. I'm about six feet four—
"six feet six," Aleigha corrects me. "Sometimes they take vampire kids and fix the knees and ankles using surgery. Go on."
Am I supposed to ignore that?!
"She comes around my chest. She loves wearing dark clothes, often wear this cat hat with googly eyes on top. She has a piercing in her left nostril." I blurt out, I'm such a snitch I need an award.
"Hobbies? Hangouts?"
"Strip club?" I say trying to remember. "I don't really know. She's a bartender—"
"Where?" Goddamn. I shallow, "Um, I don't know..."
"Phone number?" His boldness is so strong. I want to jump out a window. "It's in my phone."
"Call it."
"I don't have minut—"
"DON'T—" he licks his lips wearing a grin. "Don't act like you can't call her."
"I'm not!" Let's be honest. I know Lynn but I also know, she has a ton of enemies. She used to sell weed on Halton Gardens Boulevard and when she got arrested, she went back to that spot and got shot because one of her customers was a crackhead. "My phone is busted like fuck. I dropped it and it doesn't work."
"Cheap ass, broke ass nigga. Is it an iPhone?" he sneers. "Yeah..." Technically, I stole it... I used to work at an old RadioShack before it went out of business. I hid the phone under the counter, turned off the lights, and kind of stuck out with it. There's more to that story...
"Now I got to go out here and hustle for your broke ass... might as well buy a lighter while I'm out." He lifts from the sofa and starts moving to the door. "You smoke?"
"Roses."
"How do you—"
"Also had to stash, my Shimmy on the way over here."
"Shimmy?"
He turns in my direction. "My pistol."