The next morning, I got up and ate cereal… with the usual. I feel famished waking up. I had the thought like yeah, I'm a vampire but I have vamp friends they don't act like this.
I feel like a pitbull, as if I have to kill something. I have to grab somebody off the streets. I'm starving. My aunt is a doctor and she had the nerve and apparent medical know how to say I had, HAD.
I have the vampiric disorder of Hyper Attention. It was wild to me. I asked Cooly about it, Adelena. She explained to me that HAD is a stalking disorder that may come from starvation. She takes pills from the department because one day she stalked her client home.
She broke into his house and tied him to the bed. 'I bit his neck, under his armpit, his legs. Girl, I even licked him. I stayed in his house for like eight months before he was dry.'
And I was like, what makes you stalk somebody like that. She went on to tell me, the brain's attention span is less in the state of starvation.
You only think about food. A myth of the obayifo is that it came from a starving African while another part of African or tribe said it was from a fallen angel that rejected humanity.
That sounds like Lucifer and honestly, I kind of believe it.
Speaking of Cooly, I could be a working girl. All I have to do is call a nigga or get calls. I'm a size 9 in a dress. I hate my fucking waist!
Then my therapist gon' tell me, I have a body image problem. I have tiny ass titties. Well, I'm not completely flat but I wouldn't mind a C cup. Fucking Cooly is like a C-32, like how the fuck do you have that and have a fucking B-16.
I'm being extra again.
I'm fine.
What am I doing today?
I have to go to the doctor next week. I should have never cheated on Cents. I'm just so sick of him trying to convert me all the damn time. He used to be a vampire, got surgery, went to jail, found God and became a beat maker for a music company.
I asked him, could I have a job. This arabic bitch, told me I can't handle shit with my mental state of mind. I said, what do you mean? And he told me it's because I believe in blood.
Nigga it runs all though the body like you need it. He doesn't believe in it. Like blood keeps your body functioning; you need it to live!
So my dumb ass boyfriend, told me to get artificial blood lines. Or synthetic blood transplant.
I don't want surgery!
I looked up one of those surgeries on YouTube. They take your skin off and cut out your normal fucking veins and stitch you together. The slang term for it is Puppetry.
I just hate my fucking life so goddamn much!
I can ask for therapy
.
.
.
The department has an online therapy session and I could call the suicide hotline but lately, it goes to voicemail.
I'm not joking.
I go to the website, departmentofhumanresvamco.net. Pulling down a tab and clicking Video Therapy. On the page is a yellow bar above it before I scroll down.
*PLEASE BEAWARE, DUE TO AN OUTBREAK AT THE HOSPITAL. COMMUNICATION IS SLOW
Ok.
Scrolling down, I see who's open to talk. I don't feel like I'm a suicide train but I got shit on my brain.
I click on the third video option from the third row.
Awolowo Onobanjo. The chat box opens and the first thing it says, please leave a message and the doctor will be notified.
Alexis: Hello?
I don't immediately get a response. I get up but leave the computer on. I start looking into my dressers and fold clothes.
What has my life come to?
-12 minutes ago-
Awo: My name is Awolowo Onobanjo. I have been a therapist for over thirteen years. I have been assigned to assist you with your medical health.
Awo: To help you get to know me. I graduated from the University of California and University of Cincinnati.
Awo: How can I help you today?
-2 minutes ago-
Alexis: I need to talk to somebody
He writes before I can send it.
Awo: How can I help you today?
Awo: Are suffering for mental or medical internal unwellness?
Alexis: Mental
I wait to see if he talks first and he does.
Awo: Certainly
Awo: Are you depressed, suicidal, or schizophrenic?
Alexis: Depressed I guess
Awo: What were you feeling before this morning?
Alexis: Tired?
Awo: Do you need medical assistance?
Alexis: I came to talk to somebody.
Awo: How old are you?
Alexis: 19
Awo: are you a registered vampire?
Alexis: Yes?
Awo: Do you have insurance?
Alexis: Yes?
Awo: Please take a picture of your DOHRCC ID medical card and send it to so that I can verify your file.
Awo: When is your birthday?
FUCK MY LIFE!
I exit out the conversation and find another therapist, preferably a woman. Possibly a black woman.
I find a fat, pretty woman on the seventh row of video calls. Rashida West.
The chat opens, please be simple.
Alexis: Hello?
Alexis: I'm depressed with suicidal urges.
Alexis: Do I need my medical card?
-2 minutes ago-
Rashida: No, this is online. How can I help?
Alexis: Ok, I tried one therpist but I think he's on auto?
Rashida: Did you see him?
Alexis: No ma'am, it was just a chat room. I was asked to take a picture of my medical card.
Rashida: That shouldn't be a thing. Who was the doctor?
Alexis: Um, somebody named Awo?
Rashida: I'll have a look into it. In the meantime, look to the right hand corner of this screen. There should be a camera icon.
Rashida: Click it so you know I'm a real person.
I do as told and I get to see her face. I bet she has kids. She's wearing a white blouse and has a gold chain around her neck.
"Hello, Alexis. What's boring you today?" she asks me with a smile. "Um, I'm addicted to drinking blood." She pulls out some paper and grabs a pencil and eraser. "I'm just keeping note. When did you start your addiction?"
"Um… uh… I'm an orphan." It's hard to say that. "I had a sister, I don't know my mom. But it started when me and my adopted sister, I'm adopted too, ran away."
"Why did you run away?"
"We hated our grandma, we thought for a long time she was our mother but we found out she wasn't." I feel like I'm about to cry. She notices, "It's ok Alexis. Do you wanna say more about it?"
Wipe my eyes, no tears but it's trying. "I can!" I straighten in my seat. "Our grandma was found in the house dead. My sister got kidnapped. This is the craziest thing. Tori--"
My hand clasp my chest, "AH!" my head is pounding as well as my heart. A vision flashes in front of my eyes, there I am again. Standing, I'm looking for Torielle. I call out into the mist.
"Alexis!" exclaims Ms. West. "Are you ok?"
"Uh--yes." No.
"What happened? Are you ok?"
"I…" I think I have PTSD.