chapter 1. survival of the smartest

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I ran from the brightness of the kitchen. My toes danced on the edge of each step as I glided down the hall and into my cave like bedroom. I hated the sunlight. Everything these humans did was idiotic. But I suppose they saw me in the same way. My adopted human mother had disturbed my reading, for the oddest reason too. To taste her tuna salad, I had spent a few minutes more than necessary in the blindness of the sun and the florescent lights, for tuna salad, which wasn’t even particularly good.

 

I continued on reading my book about an ancient magician. I enjoyed spending all my time not on homework but rather on things children these days would never read. In fact many children these days didn’t read at all. What a sad generation this was to be living in. especially if u had just about heard every story there was to tell about past centuries. I Had nearly lived in them, up until a few months ago.

 

My parents were immortal vampires. They had mastered the art of immortality while they were young, and just thirteen years ago my mother, Delia, gave birth to me. Of course my father, Richmond, was delighted to have a baby girl also. I had been in the process of learning every secret there was hidden, every lesson to be taught. It would all be mine once I had hit sixteen. That dream certainly wouldn’t come true. Just about seven months ago my parents went out on a dangerous mission. They didn’t tell me who or what they would be fighting or what they were protecting from it but it had to be amazingly powerful. To wipe out the immortality in my parents and then kill them while they were trying to regain it, it had to be strong.

 

Once I realized my parents were not returning it felt like my life was a meaningless pit. I wept for days upon days sitting in the corner of my room in my empty house. After I had just about cried myself dry I remembered back to some of the first lessons my parents had ever thought me. Survival of the smartest, they had always told me humans were dumb and gullible. I combed my hair, put on my only dress, packed a few measly items and mapped out the nearest orphanage.

 

After walking about two hours, up and down streets upon streets I finally made it to the neighborhood orphanage. A lady in her mid thirties with a cheery smile on answered the door. When her eyes fell upon the little heap of me her smile fell into a gape. I would have to if I were her. Short little me with a dress that came above me knees and small two- inch heels two match. My long black hair silhouetted my face and eyes that were surrounded by gothic halos of black eye liner. “hi there little girl, are  u lost?” she finally said as she regained her composure. “I’m thirteen.” I snapped back at her. “And I’m not lost.” I stated more solemnly. “my parents are…gone” I said almost in a whisper. It took a moment for the woman to realize that my short figure didn’t make up for my age and what I meant by gone. She finally made out the words “Oh my, please come inside dear.” Once she had processed it all. She lead me to a room painted white with green stripes and with white tile floors. There was a table in the middle of the room and a desk and secretary at the other end. I was seated at the table for a few minutes before another woman walked into the room.

 

She was older, she looked more lie she was in charge. After hearing my fake story of how my parents died of a car crash she asked me “what’s your name sweetheart” I responded simply. “Vale.” I said softly. “but you may call me what you wish, I heard its easier to be adopted if the parent can name you.”  The woman looked at me blankly. “well, don’t you have any other family?” asked the woman. “No” I whispered. The woman wrote down a few things on her clipboard. “Excuse me for a moment, darling” she said politely as she got up from the chair and went to join the other patrons of the orphanage in the hall. After she came back into the room, I knew she had decided to keep me even before she’d said anything.

 

So after two months of being ignored by the pricy little girls at the orphanage I met Paula. She was the first childless parent to have laid eyes on me. She must have seen some potential as I sat in my all black clothing and read a book contently. She asked to talk to me and I gratefully cooperated. She old me her name and I told her that she could call me what ever she wanted. We talked for a half an hour exchanging likes and dislikes in my casual “I don’t care” mood. At the end of her hour and a half visit to the all girls orphanage, she chose me.

 

 

The old lady who’s name I learned was Lerane helped me and Paula fill out the adoption papers. Soon I was driving in the front seat of Paula’s minivan going to somewhere I hadn’t seen in a while, home. Paula picked the name Pepper for me. It was unique and I liked it, I liked Paula, and I liked the look of the shiny new home that had been prepared for me. Paula told me to call her mom, and so I did. Things were unraveling rather nicely, although it was funny to think of all the secrets I kept from my new mother. I wondered what she’d say if she ever found out she’d adopted a vampire.

 

“Pepper! Its dinner time!” called Paula from the kitchen. “Coming mom!” I yelped back. Well I suppose back into the sun and florescent lights of a summer afternoon. I sighed as  I put my book down and raced to the kitchen, as long as we  weren’t having that tuna salad.     

 

                

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I would like to dedicate this book to Alex (TheSlainHeart) who, after the first version of this got deleted off my computer, stayed up with me all night giving me advise and keeping me from going insane while I rewrote it. With all my love to my angel of death.  

Author's Note

Please Ignore My Poor Spelling & Grammatical Errors Thank You

Reviews

[Casper Cross]

Beautiful...beautiful...beautiful. I love reading the work of young writers. Your talent is pure because you still write from the heart rather than the head. I only saw one thing that I would change:
You must text alot, because you fall into it in a couple of spots using "u" instead of "you". There are some other typos but that is understandable.
Great work...

[Fabian G. Franklin]

"Everything these swiveling humans did was idiotic"....I know you said to ignore spelling and grammer here but you honestly cannot expect anyone to understand this. Swiveling humans? Were they twirling? Without proper spelling and grammer, you cannot ever hope to become a writer. That is the bottom line. Writing is work and it is a craft that requires not only ideas but the tools to express those ideas into clear and concise statements. If you want to be a writer you will have to work at it. And you will have to improve both spelling and grammer, along with syntax, usage, metaphor, analogy and a dozen other tricks of the trade. I can promise you that every editor in the world will tell you the same. If you ever hope to be published, skill comes with a price; time, hard work and study. But I encourage you to keep trying. Rome wasn't built in a day. Buy a good thesaurus, a good dictionary and a copy of Diana Hacker's, A Writers Reference to begin with. Also buy a copy of The Associated Press Stylebook if you intend on writing articles because that is the measure that every journalist uses. This is all good advice, freely given, with the intent of helping you to pursue and capture your dream of becoming a published author. Incidently, article writing pays anywhere from 25 to 50 dollars for a two page story. So that Stylebook is a great investment to help you not only get published but to make a substantial amount of money while writng your bestselling novel. Best wishes and hopes for a bright future and writing career.