"At the age of twelve, she had won the affection of everyone around her. Not a single soul could bring themselves to hate her, let alone harbor any negative feelings towards her," Professor Collins recited to the class, pacing back and forth with his eyes glued to the book in front of him. He seldom looked up to see if his students were paying attention."Her mother, Karina, had instilled in her daughter the invaluable lesson of loving and appreciating others unconditionally. Every afternoon, Karina would take Melia on a walk around the palace, holding her hand as they explored. Melia was a curious child; anything and everything caught her attention.
"'Mother, why does everyone love me?' she would ask Karina at random intervals.
Karina would look down at her daughter, her own gaze meeting Melia's bright brown eyes, and reply with a smile:
"Because every angel is loved." Melia would beam with joy and Karina would plant a gentle kiss on her daughter's head.
Professor Collins pushed his glasses up to his forehead, letting them rest on his head, and let out a deep sigh. He looked around at his students and asked,
"What's going on?" before leaning on his desk, folding his hands."It seems like Melia was quite the curious and outgoing child," he remarked with a chuckle, causing the class to laugh lightly. His gaze then shifted to the back of the room, towards the right side, to the second-to-last chair. "Student Orleans," he called out, addressing the boy in the seat. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing, sir," Elijah replied, settling back into his chair. "Nothing at all."
"Then why haven't you contributed anything to the discussion?" Professor Collins asked with a frown. "You're usually the first to raise your hand when it comes to talking about Hokonick."
It was true. Elijah was always eager to participate and share his thoughts, yet today he seemed lost in thought, paying little to no attention to the lecture.
Orleans spoke up,
"I have nothing to add today, professor." Professor Collins raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"It's weird," Collins continued with a funny face. "But I would like to hear your opinion on this sentence." He opened the book again, turned a few pages and walked towards Elijah, who took the book and read it:
"The love of my life is that which I do without a second thought. It is that act without any return, which is done through the good deeds of the heart. Karina Conkinova." Elijah finished reading and handed the book back to the teacher.
"Well...?" asked Professor Collins, standing in front of the class again. The class turned their gaze to the snowy-haired man, making him nervous. Particularly, Jackson Park, the class's rude and disrespectful boy who had treated Elijah in the worst way, was looking at him. It intimidated Elijah, making him feel little, especially because Fox had defended him and gotten into trouble. Elijah felt bad about it.
He looked to his sides where Rebekah and Fox were, and they encouraged him to speak his mind. Helena Chantai watched him as she filed her nails. Her brown gaze with greenish hints made him even more nervous. Clearing his throat, Elijah looked at the teacher who was waiting for his answer.
"I think that Miss Conkinova wrote or expressed that seeing all the love in her reflected in what I think of as her treasure, her daughter. Love, joy, and appreciation gave her the strength to continue to love even if it was not reciprocated," he answered. The teacher listened attentively as Elijah continued. "Love is like that, you know? It makes you do things that you would never think of, or believe... Believe that something isn't possible when it is."
"Excellent," smiling Jack Collins said. He admired Elijah's beautiful thoughts. "If Mrs. Conkinova were alive, I'm sure she would like you very much." Elijah just smiled and looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers.
Suddenly, something hit the side of his head, and it was a paper ball thrown by Jackson. Elijah looked at it and heard Jackson say,
"What are you smiling about, loser? This miss is dead, she can't hear your stupid thoughts."
Elijah's heart sank as the class erupted in laughter. A lump formed in his throat as he tried to hold back tears. Jackson had crossed a line this time, and Elijah couldn't take it anymore.
"Leave him be," Fox declared, his face twisted in disgust as he glared at Jackson.
"What if I don't?" Jackson retorted challengingly.
Fox was ready to fight Jackson, but the teacher intervened, ordering them both to be quiet and leading Jackson out of the classroom. Before leaving, the teacher warned Jackson that he wouldn't be let off the hook so easily. Jackson Park was always threatening others and never keeping his word.
Elijah often wondered why he was the target of Jackson's bullying, considering he hadn't done anything to provoke it. He felt small and powerless, unable to stand up for himself. On the days when neither Rebekah nor Fox were around, Jackson's punches were always waiting for him. Elijah was the older brother of twins and should have been a role model for them, but it often felt like the opposite was true - his younger siblings seemed to be more intelligent and capable than he was.
The bell chimed, signaling the end of class. Elijah quickly stuffed his notebook into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Rebekah and Fox were walking ahead of him, talking animatedly. Elijah could hear Fox getting worked up about something, and Rebekah was doing her best to calm him down. Fox, on the other hand, was seething with anger. Elijah knew that his best friend had a temper, and he had seen him throw a table in a fit of rage before. Fox was a strong guy, with a powerful build that attracted both girls and boys alike. He had an outgoing yet reserved personality and was always polite and respectful to others. Despite his popularity, he never paid attention to those who were after him. Elijah often wondered what it would be like to be as confident and respected as Fox. He took a deep breath and tried to draw strength from within, but deep down, he knew that he was just a pathetic boy who needed others to watch his back.
They reached the campus and sat down at one of the tables. Rebekah's phone rang, and she answered it, engaging in lively conversation with her partner. Elijah had never met him, but Rebekah always told him that her work prevented him from visiting London. Elijah couldn't help but joke to himself, wondering if her partner was a drug dealer or something.
"Good morning, good morning," Sam greeted as he sat down next to Fox. "What's going on?"
"The same old story, Jackson Park asshole picking on your brother," replied Fox.
"He's an idiot," said Robert, Elijah's brother, as he sat down next to him. "Don't pay attention to him."
"How can you not?" Fox exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table, causing the trays to jump a little. "He's so annoying. I promised your parents I'd look after your brother."
"What?" Elijah asked, furrowing his brow. "I didn't know that. I didn't know they talked to you."
Fox inwardly winced at his slip-up.
"I talked to your parents about how they treat you here on campus. They asked me to keep an eye on you."
"Not to be mean, Elijah," Sam chimed in, realizing that Elijah's brothers were aware of the promise as well. "It's just to prevent anything else from happening to you."
"What better person to look after you than Fox?" Robert added.
Orleans was silent, his jaw tightening. His parents thought the same way he did: that he was a weak, pathetic boy who couldn't stand up for himself. He looked at his brothers, who were more masculine than he was. Jackson wouldn't mess with them, but with him, he would.
He felt so small, so broken. He looked at Rebekah and Fox, who were looking at him, but he turned away and saw Jackson approaching. Without warning, he spilled the food on Jackson's tray all over him, drenching him completely.
"I told you I had to..." Elijah began to say, but was interrupted when he felt his nose burning from Fox's punch.
"Imbecile!" Jackson shouted, trying to hit Fox, who dodged it.
The commotion drew a circle of onlookers, some filming, others trying to break it up. Everyone knew Fox's strength and feared and respected him.
Elijah knew it too, and that made him feel worse than an idiot.
His brothers were going to clean him up, but Elijah got up from the table and walked away, ignoring Rebekah and his brothers as they asked him to come back.
He should have listened to his friends, but Orleans couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of worthlessness and shame that consumed him. He walked until he was far away from the campus, where he could be alone with his thoughts and tears. The food and insults from his classmates still clung to his clothes and hair, reminding him of his humiliation. He sat down on the bleachers of a seldom used court, and roughly removed the pieces of vegetables and food from his head and shirt. He berated himself, calling himself an idiot and an asshole. Looking at his reflection in a small puddle of water, he saw a dirty, crying baby who no one loved and everyone hated. The weight of his self-loathing was too much for him to bear, and he broke down, sobbing and gasping for air.
"You're no good," he cried out, covering his face with his hands. "You should die." As he continued to cry, a small voice whispered,
"Believe me, you'll want to stay alive."
He jumped at the sound of her voice, removing his hands from his face and turning to look towards the corner of the bleachers. There she sat, cross-legged and dressed in the same long black collared coat, but with a passionate-colored blouse underneath instead of the usual long-sleeved black one. Her high ponytail showed off more of her face, and she wore the same black high-top shoes, though her jeans were now a dark blue. Elijah couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked.
"What?" he asked, in response to something she said.
"Death is not as pretty as you think, dear," she replied, taking a bite of fried food. "I've lived it, and it only gets more entangled." She chuckled, adding, "I'd rather be dead."
"I meant I'd rather be dead than deal with this," Elijah clarified, looking at her. "Melia..." But the smile on her face disappeared when she noticed the red-faced and tearful boy who had been after her diary.
Melia stood up and walked over to the boy, who tried to avoid her gaze. But it was too late.
"Mmm... What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked, bending down to see his face. "Hey, what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," he replied dryly.
"I don't like being answered like that," Melia scolded him. "Either you look at me and tell me what's wrong, or I do what I should have done from the first moment I saw you." Her tone sounded threatening, and Elijah knew exactly what she meant - to kill him. He kept his eyes down, as if to indicate that he wanted her to do just that.
But she wasn't going to indulge him, not yet. She sighed and took his chin, forcing him to look at her. He was in tears, his clothes and hair dirty.
She wasn't going to indulge him just yet. With a sigh, she took hold of his chin, forcing him to look at her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she noticed the dirt on his clothes and hair.
"What happened?" she asked again. "I think I know," she deduced. "Your best friend is fighting with that Jackson guy."
Elijah's face turned to surprise. "How, how do you know that?" he asked.
"This," she pointed to her ears. "I can hear everything for miles around... I can feel every person's being just the same. And that Jackson Park guy's aura is worse than mine." She smiled mockingly, knowing it wasn't quite true. "Well, you, because I don't know your name."
"Elijah, Elijah Orleans," he mused. "But they call me Layjah."
"Wow," she exclaimed. "You're named after one of the past kings of music," she informed him, referring to Elijah Mac Lookuh, a 17th century composer of classical music with a touch of the fast beat.
"I'm outraged by that name," he said, and she scowled at him. "I'm just a little thing."
"Don't repeat what you've heard in the first place," she warned. "And secondly, you're not a little thing, unfortunately."
Here's my suggested correction:
"Yes, I am, Melia. It's just that... everybody treats me badly, they make me feel disgusting, and I feel disgusting... I can't... I don't do anything on my own," he sniffed, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his long shirt.
Melia, for some unknown reason even to herself, just listened attentively as the boy in front of her despised himself worse than anyone else. His tears, anger, and self-loathing were palpable, and she felt it everywhere she went.
He was like a rusty key, a key that was only treated as a small thing because of its appearance. But in reality, he was a fine key that just needed someone to make him shine. July 7th of another year of my eternal life, she would write down on those yellowed pages the words just as he thought them.
"Elijah..." Melia called out to him, willing him to look at her. "My face is not behind me, and certainly not in the dry trees at the back of the court," she said, trying to make him smile. And to her surprise, he did. "Look at me," she asked him, and he shook his head. "I haven't eaten in days, hunger is in all its splendour. Unfortunately, what I want to eat doesn't taste good."
"What?" he asked, confused.
"38 degrees, I love it like this."
The face of his opponent filled with fear. Had he understood what she meant by 38 degrees? Did Melia mean...? He didn't even dare to finish that question.
"Don't make it up," he said, trying to deny what he feared.
"What do I look like?" Melia asked, amused.
"Good God!" he exclaimed low. "Are you... are you...?"
Melia burst out laughing.
"You're sweet, really," she said, still laughing. "I can see why I didn't bite your collarbone."
"You're, oh my God," he shouted out of nowhere, standing up and backing away.
Melia stood up straight again and faced him.
"What am I?"
"You are... unbelievable!" he exclaimed, and it seemed that everything he had been feeling just a few minutes ago faded away to a feeling of awe. "Biting, 38-degree food, hell, aura," he said to himself, connecting the dots.
"Yes, Orleans, I am a vampire."