Red roses hurt the most - Chapter 4A Chapter by BobbyLooking into the mirror, the girl did not know what more she could do. She told herself she had done the right thing, but she couldn't convince herself. Wondering why she had snapped, she noticed her green eyes were still watering. What was this feeling? Was it love? She had never thought of love the way she did now, and it scared her. It almost petrified her. "What is this?" she said loudly. "What is this feeling?!" Her loud shout woke up her cat. The grey and white striped cat jumped up onto her vanity. "Frodo." Her voice was calmer when looking at her cat. "You want some food?" The cat looked up at her and exclaimed a loud "meow". The girl gave the cat some food that she had in a drawer and said: "What is this, Frodo?" She looked at her cat. "What is this feeling?" She wanted a response from the cat, but she didn't get one. After all, he was a cat. She went back to the mirror. "I want him, but I can't. I don't get this feeling! It feels like what they call love, but I don't know." She was rambling now, and for every word, her voice got louder. "I think I love him, but if I do, why did that happen? How can I fix this?" The cat stopped eating. "Frodo?" The girl looked at the cat, that now had started whining. "What is it?" The cat jumped up into a window. "You want to go out!" The girl put on the name tag that said "Frodo" onto the cat's collar, before she opened the window. The cat started to whine. "Frodo?" She looked at the cat, that had jumped back down to the floor. It ran around in a circle, before it jumped up into the window again. There, it leaned it's paws on the girl's heart. "Follow my heart..." She was about to answer the cat, but it had already jumped out the window. She sighed, and again, she went back to her reflection. People said she was so beautiful. Like an angel that had come down to earth. Herself, she didn't feel that way. Her all too big, green eyes. Her pale, soft skin. And worst of all, the hair. She hated that color, so she covered it with a hood when she was alone or with her dad. Her dad loved the color. "I hate myself!" Anyone outside would have heard that shout, but luckily, no one would be outside her house at night. "This is the worst day ever. I can't find out if what I feel is love, or the lust to feed. My dad refuses to talk to me until I start feeding." She made a short break and sighed before she finished; "And I am hungry. I need to feed on a person until he dies, but I can't. I don't want to." She jumped backwards, turned around, and hit the wall as hard as she could.The rain was pouring down outside, and her hand that was now outside, got wet in in an instant. She pulled in her hand. Nothing. She looked through the hole in the wall she had punched open. Not even a scratch on her hand. When did that happen? How did she become like this? She stared at her hand. Shocked. No blood-drinker could do that without getting at least scratched. Yes. All blood-drinkers could hit through a cement wall, but there was none that wouldn't get even a scratch. "What the?" She jumped to the mirror. Her fangs had grown. "How in the name of..." She looked at herself again. Closer this time. Her muscles had grown, her fangs had grown. She was close to invulnerable. What was this? When had this happened? She opened a drawer and took up her knife. Her hand slowly raised up and stopped on the vanity. With a knife in her right hand and the her left lying on the table, she raised her right hand in the air and stabbed her hand. It went right through. "ARGH!" Her cry of pain was loud, but she smiled. She was not a monster after all. She was just a normal blood drinker. Maybe the hand-through-the-wall-thing was just lucky. The blood was splattered all over her vanity. She hated that color. She hated it more than anything. She was about to go to the kitchen to get a towel for the blood when she saw her hand. The muscles in her hand braided together. The hole in her hand slowly disappeared, and new skin covered the wound. Her eyes widened as she watched this. What was this madness? Her hand, regenerating. Her mouth opened, but couldn't form a word. Minutes went before she even said anything, thought anything, felt anything. The time passed differently, and everything felt slower. It took minutes before she said it Her voice broken, her head shaking: "I... I am a monster..."
© 2012 BobbyAuthor's Note
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