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“Dear God Dad, would you put that away?” I scowled, grimacing at the bong in his hand and the beer can on the table. The condensation was dripping off the sides and creating a ring on the table that, you guessed it, I would have to deal with later.

“I’ve always thought drunk and high was a good look for me,” he mumbled, his words slurring together so bad that they all sounded like one. I threw my bag down on the ground and adjusted my garter leggings.

“How many more times am I going to have to hear that?” I kicked off my shoes and waltzed into the kitchen, grabbing a cup out of the cabinet and pulling out a gallon of orange juice. I was going to make another comment, but I realized it was useless. I had had a long day at work and wasn’t up for fighting. I went back in the room long enough to grab my bag and run upstairs to my room..

I flipped on the light switch and took my notebook out from my bag, setting the bag down on the ground and tossing my notebook up onto my bed. After I went over and shut the blinds, I grabbed the book I was reading off of my dresser and slid onto my bed. The clock blinked 11:30. I told myself I would read one more chapter of Twelfth Grade Kills and go to bed.

I’d already read the book twice, but I was rereading it for a third time. The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod was my favorite book series. The whole series made me feel a little less alone, a little more like I was part of something.

My life was so ordinary and not the greatest. I worked full time during the summer to pay for school in the fall and winter, and my father drank too much and smoked a lot of pot. Every time I confronted him about his bad habits, he always gave me the same response.

“I’ve always thought drunk and high was a good look for me.”

Usually, he was intoxicated when he said that. Which was a good chunk of the time. My father’s addiction has made me, at my ripe old age of 21, hate alcohol.

Why don’t you drink? Oh, y’know, I’m allergic.

Bullshit.

I flipped the book open to my marked chapter and picked up where I left off. The chapter was fairly short, and I read quickly, so I was curling up under my covers by midnight.

“What if I could be a vampire? That would surely be a hell of a lot better than being here,” I said aloud, laying back on my pillow, “Any place, anywhere, any world would be better than this.” I rolled over onto my side, “Why can’t I be a fictional character?” With that, I pulled my covers up around me and snuggled into them, praying that I soon would fall into a deep sleep.

I felt a shaking sensation, then a tumbling sensation. Then I felt like I was falling.

The next thing I knew, I fell onto something really hard. After opening my eyes and allowing them to focus, I realized I had fallen on a bed of grass. I looked up and saw a tree above me. Had I fallen out of the tree?

It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the bright sunlight. Where was I? What time was it? It had to be after 2 something, because there were plenty of students walking around with backpacks, going home from school.

I stepped out from under the shade of the tree, allowing the sunlight to drench my skin. I instantly threw myself back and screamed when my skin was overcome with agonizing pain.

“What the hell kind of sun is this?” I whimpered, caressing my arm where it was still in pain. I stuck my hands in my back pockets—

Pockets? I had gone to bed in pajamas.

I hadn’t even taken notice that my clothes were changed. I was wearing a burgundy crop top, some black high-waisted shorts, black lace boot socks and combat boots, lace hand gloves, some bat earrings, and a necklace with a little vial of fake blood attached. My red hair was also now tied in a curled ponytail with the top teased up. I felt my face and noticed I also had black makeup on my eyes and blood red lipstick on. In one of my pockets was a small bottle of sunscreen, some money in another, a small cell phone in another.

What had happened to me? Was I dreaming?

I couldn’t be. You can’t feel pain in your dreams.

What the hell had happened?

I took out the sunscreen and applied a generous amount to my hand, covering my face and neck first. Then, I coated my arms, and finally my legs. By the time I finished, the bottle was basically empty. Note to self: Find the nearest convenience store for sunscreen, then figure out what the hell is going on.

I stepped out from the shade and waited a minute to make sure I wouldn’t burn, than kept walking. I crossed the street and picked up the pace. There was a little shop a few building down, so I chose that as my destination. When I was about one store away, this kid stepped out in front of me. He was kinda short, granted I was pretty tall myself, with freckles, glasses, and short hair. He was wearing a plaid shirt, some cargo shorts, and had a camera around his neck.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he smirked, tossing his camera around in his hands. I crossed my arms and propped myself up on one leg, crossing the other one in front of me. This kid was already getting under my skin.

“What’s it to ya, pipsqueak? You know everyone in this town?” I snapped. This kid was incredibly familiar, almost too familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Whoever he was, he was already making my blood boil.

“Kinda. Learning about people is kind of my specialty,” he responded, “now would you be willing to answer some questions for me?” He seemed to be growing increasingly impatient. So was I.

“How about you leave me alone, nerd?” I said.

“I have a name, y’know,” he informed, not that I cared, “it’s Eddie Poe.”

I swear, my heart stopped for a split second. Eddie Poe, the infamous Vladimir Tod baddie? I had to be dreaming. But I couldn’t be dreaming because the sun burned me. I had to be conscious, but delusional.

“I’m sorry kid, I have to go,” I told him. I shoved past the little twerp and continued to the store. He stopped me in my tracks with more talking.

“You look a little pale there. You should get out in the sun more.” I balled my fists up and turned back to face him.

“Listen you little punk. Talk to me again, and I’ll drain you dry. Got it?” I turned around and headed into the store before he could respond.

Drain you dry? That was certainly a new one.

I went to the aisle with non-food products and grabbed three little bottles of sunscreen and a bag clip to hang one from a loop on my shorts. I pulled the cash out of my pocket and realized I had over 300 dollars. Where did all of this money come from?

I pulled out one of the 20s and paid for my sunscreen and clip, taking the change and shoving it back in my pocket. I shoved two of the bottles in my pocket and clipped one to a belt loop. As I was walking by the door, a girl bumped into me, knocking her stuff out of her arms. She leaned over and started picking it up, so I offered a helping hand.

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” she cooed, “it was entirely my fault.” I grabbed two notebooks, and she grabbed her purse and a small notebook. I handed the two notebooks over to her as we stood up.

She was a little bit shorter than me with curly brown hair, fairly tan skin, and chocolate brown eyes. Her sweater, skirt, shoes, and necklace were all different shades of pale pink. She had to be who I thought she was.

“It’s fine hun, really,” I assured, skipping a few beats before asking my next question, “by the way, you look really familiar. What’s your name?”

She beamed slightly before telling me, “Meredith Brookstone.” I had to prop my foot up to keep myself from falling over. Where the hell had I gone? “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, you look like someone a friend of mine has talked about, that’s all,” I replied. She smiled and continued her way down an aisle. I booked it out the door and back across the street, resting my back against a large tree.

I had to be insane. Meredith Brookstone. Eddie Poe. In the flesh. In front of me.

I don’t care if the sun burned me. This had to be a dream. How else would I explain the change of clothes, sunscreen in my pocket, the 300 dollars, falling out of a tree when I clearly went to sleep in a bed, and meeting characters from my favorite books?

I stood there for a minute, rubbing my temples and trying to make my sudden and now-throbbing headache go away. When I stepped back on the sidewalk, my heart stopped and my mind spun.

There were two kids walking towards me. One was incredibly pale, like myself, with jet black swishy hair. He was wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans, carrying a black backpack. The other was just a bit taller than him with dirty blonde hair, Caucasian skin, and wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans.

I thought I was going to pass out.

I took my phone and began walking towards them, looking down at it and playing with it, pretending I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was walking. After a bit, I ran right into them.

“Hey, watch where you’re going,” Vlad said. I turned around to face the two of them. Cocking an eyebrow, I stepped forward and eyed Vlad with an intense stare.

“Talk to me again like that and I’ll drain you dry, punk,” I told him. I felt my blood boiling, and something sharp pierced the inside of my bottom lip.

I turned before the boys could respond and walked away to another tree, holding my mouth the entire way. I could taste my own blood. And it didn’t taste too bad…

Before I knew it, the spots in my mouth had stopped bleeding and were healed over. I rested against a tree and did what I feared to. I brought my hands to my mouth and stroked my teeth.

Two of them were longer than normal…I’d grown fangs.

“God damnit,” I whispered under my breath, “I got exactly what I wanted.”

Description

“Dear God Dad, would you put that away?” I scowled, grimacing at the bong in his hand and the beer can on the table. The condensation was dripping off the sides and creating a ring on the table that, you guessed it, I would have to deal with later.

“I’ve always thought drunk and high was a good look for me,” he mumbled, his words slurring together so bad that they all sounded like one. I threw my bag down on the ground and adjusted my garter leggings.

“How many more times am I going to have to hear that?” I kicked off my shoes and waltzed into the kitchen, grabbing a cup out of the cabinet and pulling out a gallon of orange juice. I was going to make another comment, but I realized it was useless. I had had a long day at work and wasn’t up for fighting. I went back in the room long enough to grab my bag and run upstairs to my room..

I flipped on the light switch and took my notebook out from my bag, setting the bag down on the ground and tossing my notebook up onto my bed. After I went over and shut the blinds, I grabbed the book I was reading off of my dresser and slid onto my bed. The clock blinked 11:30. I told myself I would read one more chapter of Twelfth Grade Kills and go to bed.

I’d already read the book twice, but I was rereading it for a third time. The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod was my favorite book series. The whole series made me feel a little less alone, a little more like I was part of something.

My life was so ordinary and not the greatest. I worked full time during the summer to pay for school in the fall and winter, and my father drank too much and smoked a lot of pot. Every time I confronted him about his bad habits, he always gave me the same response.

“I’ve always thought drunk and high was a good look for me.”

Usually, he was intoxicated when he said that. Which was a good chunk of the time. My father’s addiction has made me, at my ripe old age of 21, hate alcohol.

Why don’t you drink? Oh, y’know, I’m allergic.

Bullshit.

I flipped the book open to my marked chapter and picked up where I left off. The chapter was fairly short, and I read quickly, so I was curling up under my covers by midnight.

“What if I could be a vampire? That would surely be a hell of a lot better than being here,” I said aloud, laying back on my pillow, “Any place, anywhere, any world would be better than this.” I rolled over onto my side, “Why can’t I be a fictional character?” With that, I pulled my covers up around me and snuggled into them, praying that I soon would fall into a deep sleep.

I felt a shaking sensation, then a tumbling sensation. Then I felt like I was falling.

The next thing I knew, I fell onto something really hard. After opening my eyes and allowing them to focus, I realized I had fallen on a bed of grass. I looked up and saw a tree above me. Had I fallen out of the tree?

It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the bright sunlight. Where was I? What time was it? It had to be after 2 something, because there were plenty of students walking around with backpacks, going home from school.

I stepped out from under the shade of the tree, allowing the sunlight to drench my skin. I instantly threw myself back and screamed when my skin was overcome with agonizing pain.

“What the hell kind of sun is this?” I whimpered, caressing my arm where it was still in pain. I stuck my hands in my back pockets—

Pockets? I had gone to bed in pajamas.

I hadn’t even taken notice that my clothes were changed. I was wearing a burgundy crop top, some black high-waisted shorts, black lace boot socks and combat boots, lace hand gloves, some bat earrings, and a necklace with a little vial of fake blood attached. My red hair was also now tied in a curled ponytail with the top teased up. I felt my face and noticed I also had black makeup on my eyes and blood red lipstick on. In one of my pockets was a small bottle of sunscreen, some money in another, a small cell phone in another.

What had happened to me? Was I dreaming?

I couldn’t be. You can’t feel pain in your dreams.

What the hell had happened?

I took out the sunscreen and applied a generous amount to my hand, covering my face and neck first. Then, I coated my arms, and finally my legs. By the time I finished, the bottle was basically empty. Note to self: Find the nearest convenience store for sunscreen, then figure out what the hell is going on.

I stepped out from the shade and waited a minute to make sure I wouldn’t burn, than kept walking. I crossed the street and picked up the pace. There was a little shop a few building down, so I chose that as my destination. When I was about one store away, this kid stepped out in front of me. He was kinda short, granted I was pretty tall myself, with freckles, glasses, and short hair. He was wearing a plaid shirt, some cargo shorts, and had a camera around his neck.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he smirked, tossing his camera around in his hands. I crossed my arms and propped myself up on one leg, crossing the other one in front of me. This kid was already getting under my skin.

“What’s it to ya, pipsqueak? You know everyone in this town?” I snapped. This kid was incredibly familiar, almost too familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Whoever he was, he was already making my blood boil.

“Kinda. Learning about people is kind of my specialty,” he responded, “now would you be willing to answer some questions for me?” He seemed to be growing increasingly impatient. So was I.

“How about you leave me alone, nerd?” I said.

“I have a name, y’know,” he informed, not that I cared, “it’s Eddie Poe.”

I swear, my heart stopped for a split second. Eddie Poe, the infamous Vladimir Tod baddie? I had to be dreaming. But I couldn’t be dreaming because the sun burned me. I had to be conscious, but delusional.

“I’m sorry kid, I have to go,” I told him. I shoved past the little twerp and continued to the store. He stopped me in my tracks with more talking.

“You look a little pale there. You should get out in the sun more.” I balled my fists up and turned back to face him.

“Listen you little punk. Talk to me again, and I’ll drain you dry. Got it?” I turned around and headed into the store before he could respond.

Drain you dry? That was certainly a new one.

I went to the aisle with non-food products and grabbed three little bottles of sunscreen and a bag clip to hang one from a loop on my shorts. I pulled the cash out of my pocket and realized I had over 300 dollars. Where did all of this money come from?

I pulled out one of the 20s and paid for my sunscreen and clip, taking the change and shoving it back in my pocket. I shoved two of the bottles in my pocket and clipped one to a belt loop. As I was walking by the door, a girl bumped into me, knocking her stuff out of her arms. She leaned over and started picking it up, so I offered a helping hand.

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” she cooed, “it was entirely my fault.” I grabbed two notebooks, and she grabbed her purse and a small notebook. I handed the two notebooks over to her as we stood up.

She was a little bit shorter than me with curly brown hair, fairly tan skin, and chocolate brown eyes. Her sweater, skirt, shoes, and necklace were all different shades of pale pink. She had to be who I thought she was.

“It’s fine hun, really,” I assured, skipping a few beats before asking my next question, “by the way, you look really familiar. What’s your name?”

She beamed slightly before telling me, “Meredith Brookstone.” I had to prop my foot up to keep myself from falling over. Where the hell had I gone? “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, you look like someone a friend of mine has talked about, that’s all,” I replied. She smiled and continued her way down an aisle. I booked it out the door and back across the street, resting my back against a large tree.

I had to be insane. Meredith Brookstone. Eddie Poe. In the flesh. In front of me.

I don’t care if the sun burned me. This had to be a dream. How else would I explain the change of clothes, sunscreen in my pocket, the 300 dollars, falling out of a tree when I clearly went to sleep in a bed, and meeting characters from my favorite books?

I stood there for a minute, rubbing my temples and trying to make my sudden and now-throbbing headache go away. When I stepped back on the sidewalk, my heart stopped and my mind spun.

There were two kids walking towards me. One was incredibly pale, like myself, with jet black swishy hair. He was wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans, carrying a black backpack. The other was just a bit taller than him with dirty blonde hair, Caucasian skin, and wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans.

I thought I was going to pass out.

I took my phone and began walking towards them, looking down at it and playing with it, pretending I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was walking. After a bit, I ran right into them.

“Hey, watch where you’re going,” Vlad said. I turned around to face the two of them. Cocking an eyebrow, I stepped forward and eyed Vlad with an intense stare.

“Talk to me again like that and I’ll drain you dry, punk,” I told him. I felt my blood boiling, and something sharp pierced the inside of my bottom lip.

I turned before the boys could respond and walked away to another tree, holding my mouth the entire way. I could taste my own blood. And it didn’t taste too bad…

Before I knew it, the spots in my mouth had stopped bleeding and were healed over. I rested against a tree and did what I feared to. I brought my hands to my mouth and stroked my teeth.

Two of them were longer than normal…I’d grown fangs.

“God damnit,” I whispered under my breath, “I got exactly what I wanted.”