My Life, Morbid, But My Own Brand of Happy

Chapter Two

My Life, Morbid, But My Own Brand of Happy

The sun's light was horridly bright when I squinted my eyes against it and rolled over, clutching the covers tightly to my face and pulling them just so they shaded my face. The sun was always a little bit more irritating after a feeding. But after tossing and turning a few more times, I gave in and slid my hand out to my bedside table. I opened the drawer blindly, habitually. The bottles of Vitamin B1 and B2, taking two of the ugly, brown pills with a sip of water from the bottle on the table. My usual dose after a feeding because of what the blood loss often did to me.

Headaches were one thing, but I had come to experience an irregular heartbeat, sensitivity to light and faint dizziness on occasion. After all, the human body wasn't meant to lose blood on a weekly basis and lately, I'd been needing the feeding so much more often because I'd become addicted to it. Withdrawal aside, my body had to get used to losing iron and blood and constantly recycling to catch back up only to have me be fed upon again and start the whole process over. 

I'd promised Dimitri I'd take the Vitamin supplements at least right after a feeding because he worried for my health and that if I wasn't healthy enough, he refused to feed. And there went my pleasure for the week. So I kept the Vitamins next to my bed and a spare few in my satchel that I took to school to keep my vampire happy.

Crawling out of bed just as my alarm called out with the ramblings of some pop song on the radio, I picked out my clothes with bleary eyes and headed for the bathroom attached to my room. I changed and brushed my teeth, combed my hair, the usual morning routine. The mirror on the wall above the sink watched me as I gave soft curls to my dark-chocolate hair with the straightner my mother had gotten me for my last birthday. I'm a normal-looking girl with a kind of "fairie-like" beauty, or so I've been told by multiple people. It seems to be an accepted notion that I'm like a magical creature in my subtle beauty. While I liked hearing that from people, I'm one of those low self-esteem kind of girls and I tend to smile and thank them for the blushing compliment rather than actually taking it into belief.

Though I could see where they made the connection. My eyebrows were thin and arched high, dark to match my hair. My skin was a soft pale that had lately been getting paler because my bites were getting closer and closer together. I didn't look sick, I just looked like I was healing from the flu or I wasn't out in the sun enough. The latter definately played a part because I was not what I called a 'pumpkin thumper.' I hated that girls my age, or anyone for that matter, was heading to the tanning beds and turning orange while slowly creating cancer in themselves.

No, I am a pale, hidden beauty kind of girl with greater things on her mind than what make up is best for my complexion. My hair cascades down to my lower back in layers that look better in loose waves rather than attempting to braid them together. Which is how I preferred my hair, loose and free. My eyes had a Taylor Swift-like shape with long, feathery lashes. The shade of green that was my eyes I did favor, a fervent, spring green that I hadn't yet found in another person's eyes. They were a rare, beautiful color that I wouldn't change for the world.

At my short height, I have a slender build that carried the common hour-glass figure but without losing definition. I am plain, normal and utterly ordinary. I kind of liked that I didn't draw attention in a crowd or became the center of attention without saying anything. I liked blending in and I liked fading into the wall of a place.

I'd like to think my choice of clothing, however, is a little better than the normal patterns that was being worn by those my age. At 17, I liked to think I was a bit above those my age in more ways than one.

Today I wore a dark-red camisole with a lacey pattern brimming at my chest, a black button-up and dark blue jeans. Black boots laced up over the edges of my jeans and their added six inches had me at Dimitri's height which made me feel more comfortable. I may like to disappear in a crowd, but I would be taller than a bug while doing it. With my heels I was just about normal height of most other girls and still kept the level in said crowd, but I felt like I might be stomped to death by the giants around me without heels.

Sliding on black eyeliner and thick mascara, I highlighted a little bit of red in to match my camisole and sighed at my reflection. She looked as I felt, happy from last night's bite, but somehow feeling still empty. I'd never felt this way before, like something was missing just after a feeding. It didn't make sense, I always felt blissful and happily satisfied after a bite. But there was a hollowness in my eyes that wasn't there before and my smile had holes in it. Something wasn't right.

I grabbed my black leather jacket and brown satchel full of last night's homework that I had actually rewritten twice because waiting for Dimitri had taken too long. Descending the stairs I smelled my wonderful brother's breakfast, crispy bacon and fluffy, scrambled eggs. After last night's bite, I was hungry and sure to devour most everything before it hit the plates.

"Morning gorgeous," my elder brother, Brian greeted while flipping over the bacon in the frying pan. It was always refreshing to know that while other teens were stuck at their parent's house having to live under a strict rule and feel mortified that they had to return to said home at the end of the day, I lived with my three older brothers. Brian was the oldest, the chef in the house as he attended the local community college for his skills to become one of the best. For now, he practiced his new ideas on us and most of the time, they were absolutely delicious. Next was Gregory, he worked as a paramedic and rode the squad while moonlighting as an openly gay man with amazing skills in cosmetics and clothing. Lastly, Andrew was the youngest, closest to my age at 24, he was a firefighter at both the volunteer and officially paid fire houses for the small town and the one nearest us. He worked a lot of over time and seemed to enjoy spending a lot of his time at the station.

With my being the youngest sibling and a girl at that, I was very well looked after. Boys tended to avoid me since I'd first gotten involved with one in junior high and when it ended badly, my brothers ensured he returned to school with a black eye and something so fearful that the kid hadn't spoken to me since. I would have chastised the boys for it, but in truth, I liked that someone was looking after me and I wasn't interested in boys much anyway. At least, not the ones alive. And if my brothers ever found out that I was in some sort of symbiotic relationship with a vampire, I couldn't imagine what would ensue.

I joined Brian at the stove with a delighted smile as I took in the whiff of breakfast, "Looks fabulous bro." I commented giving him a morning hug. He turned and embraced me tightly and went rigid.

"Damn, Saber, you're paler than usual today." He brushed his bacon-smelling hand to my forehead to feel for a temperature. "Yo, Greg! Come check Saber, she looks sick."

I pulled back from Brian, "I'm good, seriously, just lack of sleep is all. I have a big test on geometry and I've been staying up and stressing I guess."

The swift footfalls of Gregory's steel-toed boots was the only tell before I was practically swiveled around to face him. His sharp, angular face stared down at me from his incredible height advantage. His blue eyes, akin to Brian's and, as I was told, our father's, held scrutiny as he stared at me carefully. He checked my temperature and frowned, still watching me carefully. His medical profession couple with his incredible big-brotherliness had deemed him the one to ensure everyone was well taken care of and happy, whether we liked it or not. Particularly when it came to me, the boys were very much as protective and attentive to my health as they were with the boys I took interest in. Which meant even more that I was screwed because not only was I interested in a boy, but he was way too old for me and caused my health to be shaken. It was a perfect storm waiting to strike.

Gregory's head shook slowly, disapprovingly, making his golden hair wave softly. That was bad, the Gregory Head Shake was a sure thing that I was doomed for something. "I'm setting you up with an appointment first thing tomorrow with Dr. Rimmel." He pulled out his phone and started searching through his contacts.

Mortified, I grabbed the phone out of his hands and held it behind me. "Greg, no, please. I'm fine and there's nothing seriously wrong with me. You know I have a hard time sleeping sometimes and it's worse right now because of the stress."

His thick, golden brows knitted together and he held out his massive palm. Gregory was much taller than me and had a wide chest that spoke of football star had he not been so into the medical field. He had large hands and even larger feet. His skin was usually toned with the sun because he preferred to lounge outside while reading over his medical journals. He was always very clean-shaven and well-dressed, appearance being something he held close to him. And it made sense for someone so good-looking. If I hadn't been his sister, I could join the groups of girls that still oogled him from the front lawn on their way to school or walking past the squad bay hoping to catch a glimpse of the Golden Hollands Brother.

"Saber," his voice was calm and collected, but I felt the growl of a warning in the back of his throat. "It's our job to look after you and you're not only pale from stress and lack of sleep. You've been losing your appetite more and more for a matter of months now and I'll not have excuses so you can pass off like there's nothing wrong. Checking in with Dr. Rimmel will only ensure your health and if there is some small ailment, we can catch it and take care of you."

I ignored his still-outstretched hand and backed towards the stairwell until my heels bumped the bottom step. "I don't need taking care of right now, Greg," I argued softly. "I'm not sick and I'll be alright soon." I lied, but I was a pretty good liar. Unfortunately, that skill didn't apply because they never gave my arguments a chance to persuade them.

I heard a quick shuffling, thunder rolling down the steps too fast for me to turn and see. Before I knew it, my hand was empty and Andrew was using my shoulder to leap the rest of the distance from the stairs to the kitchen floor. Gregory smiled as Andrew handed him his phone back.

I crossed my arms, "This isn't fair, I'm always outnumbered here." On some level, I didn't mind because I loved my brothers so dearly, but on the other hand, it made winning arguments impossible. And even if you were right, they'd vote you off the island anyway and laugh until you joined in.

It had been this way since I was 14 and in junior high. Our father had run off on us a long time ago, the story never quite told to me in great detail. All I knew was that the man was unable to cope with his life with us and had left when we were small. Mom had raised us by herself as best she could, receiving money in the mail from a non-existent father. But we very quickly came to understand that Mom was addicted to her drugs more than she was with her own family. She'd spend more and more money on the addiction than she would for our school clothes or Christmas. When it got bad enough, we were the ones taking care of her and when it got worse, she wasn't coming home anymore. My brothers made a pact to make enough money to move out and take me, but just before their plans came to a climax, Mom came home again. This happened a few times before she came home and explained that she had fallen in love with a very wealthy man on the other side of town who was ready and willing to supply her with not only her drugs, but money for us to stay at home without her. He wanted our mother, not us, and he was willing to pay any some to keep it that way. The boys had had a meeting and after they talked, they brought me in to see how I felt.

I had never really learned to love my mother, to me, she was an addict and one that didn't have a life. I couldn't understand who she was or why she made the decisions she did. But I was tired of calling 911 because she had overdosed again and was sick of tucking her in before I did my homework at night. So the decision was made, we agreed that he would pay us for food, clothes, school and the occassional treat so long as he got our mother and she was happy. He would sometimes send us individual checks concerning some amount of money for whatever we wanted. The boys had slowly saved theirs up to get vehicles and I kept most of mine tucked away here and there for emergencies or to stock my luxurious display of high heels and outfits.

So we didn't get drop ins from Santa come Christmas time, we got small envelopes delivered by a driver in a black BMW from Mr. Carthegi. It was a bit morbid, but it kept us afloat and it kept our wreck of a mother away from our own problems.

So, outnumbered as I was, I was at least outnumbered by people that actually cared for me.

Andrew smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me to him. "You'll never be outnumbered when we're in your corner though. Let Greg do his overprotective stuff, what harm can it do?" I looked up at Andrew and softened. As the youngest brother, he was better at getting me to agree with him and his uncanny ability to subdue any argument on my behalf wasn't always good for me in the end. He was shorter than Gregory or Brian, but only a few inches over me. In my darling heels I almost matched him. His body was slender and he had decently shaped biceps that he specifically worked for the fire department. Other than that, he was a lean form that had a dazzling smile and a warm hug. His spikey, dark hair went well with his green eyes much like my own. His nose was then and long and his jaw much the same. His lips a thin line and his skin naturally light. The dark gray t-shirt he wore clung to his upper body well and hung loose from there to give way to his black jeans.

Of the traits we received from our parents, it was apparent who got what. Brian and Gregory took more after our father, wherever he may be. Tanned skin, great height and muscles they should have to work for, but somehow keep while eating whatever they like. Blue eyes and angular features with thick brows that often knitted together in deep thought. Andrew and I got our Mother's looks, darker hair, green eyes, lighter skin and a leaner build. Our noses carried the same tip that was signature to hers and our high cheek bones were obvious if we stood next to one another.

"Food's ready!" Brian announced, dumping the mountain of scrambled eggs onto a large, blue plate before setting it on the table next to the platter of bacon and a stack of toast. When you live with three older brothers, they tend to eat like pigs.

We moved into our usual seats, Gregory and Brian faced Andrew and I, creating a perfect balanced to the table. I scooped some eggs onto my plate and grabbed what I could of the bacon before the boys hogged it. A slab of toast and I made a breakfast sandwich. As I nommed on the steaming eggs, Gregory pulled the phone up to his ear and I heard the ring tone go through. When Gregory said he was going to do something, he did it, and as fast as he could too.

Brian frowned and grabbed the wooden spoon from the hot egg pile and slapped it to Greg's forearm, coating him in a splatter of yellow. "After we eat."

Gregory made a face but since Dr. Rimmel hadn't picked up right away, he hung up before delving into his stack of bacon. I felt a slight sigh of relief as if the longer that call was procrastinated, the better chance I had of it not happening altogether. Which was almost a stupid hope because Gregory really was dead set on doing things when he says he will. And when it comes to my health, he had never backed down from a single cough.

But Andrew might have been right, what would be the worst they'd find? It wasn't as if they could test for being bitten and fed upon by a vampire. People didn't think them anything more than myth. And Dimitri's saliva healed the wounds he left instantly with a swipe of his tongue. I shivered at the thought of it and resisted the urge to hold my hand to my neck as if there would be a wound there to touch and remember the night before.

"Eat up, Sabe," Andrew encouraged softly. "Gotta keep Greg off your back somehow." he chuckled and teased his brother with a smile before he shoveled in a bite of toast. I heard a thump under the table and Andrew winced as he withdrew his foot under his chair.

Gregory laughed triumphantly and I shook my head, couldn't we eat one meal together and not start riot?