I jumped out of my chair faster than I thought I could move with the silver cuff around my ankle. The chair made a screeching noise as I stood. The sound of my rapidly beating heart the only thing I could hear at the moment. I tried hard, really hard, to focus on it and not on how the blood of the guy flowed through his veins on his way to my father's mouth. The girl was still kneeling before me, her eyes still cast down to her flat palms on her thighs. Her breathing was even. There was no trace of fear in her.
The smell of errant blood spilled from my father's mouth on the boy's neck made me ignore the pounding of my heart in my ears. It forces me to be aware of what I'm feeling. The need to feed. I felt it. The urge to sink my teeth into that girl's neck and drain her life source into my mouth. My fangs elongated and I felt their tip on the bottom of my lip.
I tried to look at anything but at my father, but his insistent stare calls my own. I met his star
The minutes, hours, and eventually days had prolonged. Night and day were a mixture of colors that I couldn't pick apart sometimes. If it wasn't for the digital clock on my bedside table that told me the time, I was a hundred percent sure that I wouldn't even know how long I had been here in my room. A week. A whole damn week had gone by. A whole damn week where I had to resist my vampiric urges and stay in my room close off from everyone. But it was for the best really. It was for my benefit. I knew that if I went out of this room two certain things would happen. One, I would be harassed endlessly by the other Deamhans in the house. I would have to stand their hisses, their predatory gazes, and I would need to hope that they had fed before I came out of my room, or I would most certainly be attacked by them. I could be their leader's daughter, but that went through the window when blood lust settled in. I was proof of that. I felt the dryness in my throat every single day,
Hi!My name is Paola and I'm an aspiring writer. This book was written by the 16th-year-old me. I decided to upload it here on GoodNovel to see what reactions I could get from readers. I know that the story needs to work in grammar. I wanted to put it out there because gaining readers and seeing what people think of my craft is what inspires me to keep fighting to become a successful writer. This is what I want to be doing for the rest of my life, it is my passion. So, I hope you enjoy what've done so far and any suggestions are greatly appreciated.
Nighttime, and I'm walking around my school halls. So empty. So cold. So quiet. Not completely silent though, there is a sound. A loud bang resonates through the hallways. Gets higher and higher every time my feet move towards it.Then suddenly it stops. I look behind me and the school is no more.
I look around me. Thank goodness, it was just a dream. The collar of my nightdress is all wet. I'm sweating. Besides me, the clock shows that's three in the morning. I just have a few more hours before getting up for school. I turn and try to find sleep again, but it's futile. For some reason I can't shake away the uneasiness I felt in the dream. Rising from my bed, I walk to my bathroom and look at myself. I look awful. These dreams are getting a hold on me. My dark brown eyes are injected with blood. Sweat that smells like fear, drips down my neck. I wash my face in an attempt to fix my appearance a bit.
The next morning I wake all sore and confused. My neck and back, ache. It feels like I was hiking an impossibly high mountain or something. I remember last night but quickly dismiss the thought. It's just craziness. Mia's craziness. Why am I sore? I rub my hands up and down my arms and they are slightly different. They feel stronger. Toned. I walk to the bathroom and look at myself.I gasp.
The next morning I wake to find a black chest in front of my bed. It has some beautiful carvings. They look like symbols, ancient symbols. Lines form loops, waves, and circles. The chest is big, almost like one of my chest drawers. On the lid, there are some more symbols, or runes, I think. I can't be sure. I touch them and I feel a low bolt of electricity. I yank my hand away. This is too strange. But having the chest there or not, I have to get to class."Hey, I heard your birthday was yesterd
The next day I wake a little bit hazy. I don't even know how I managed to sleep. My head it's trying to process this...this thing. Vampire. I'm a freaking vampire. This kind of stuff doesn't happen in real life. Is it possible that everything once held in books and spread around like legends are actually true? Looking at the mirror I see my eyes going from soft brown to deep blue. I need to control this. How do I control this? Am I going to become a blood-sucking monster? I get out of bed and head to class, even though I know I won't be able to concentrate.
A few days have passed since the incident with Chris, but the rumors haven't stopped. They get worse the longer I don't deal with them. Kissing, making out, touching, first base, second base; the list goes on and on. My fury escalates by the day and by the weeks. I don't know what to say to him. I don't want him to remember what happened. What really happened? But what if he does remember? Will he be freaked? Who wouldn't? I just hope, that if he is, he doesn't start some kind of hunt, then it would be vampire huntings all over again like in the movies.