November 23, 2009

Last night was the hardest night I have had since all of this started. It was worse than all the throwing up. Worse than the night of trial and error suicide. It was worse than realizing what I was.

Last night was the night I lost control for the first time. Here's the story:

I had decided that Dustin and Cheryl couldn't spend all night up with me every night. I needed to learn to do this by myself. So after they went to bed, I got dressed in my nicest and newest black clothes. I styled my hair. I brushed my teeth. And then I made my first mistake. I got in my car and drove down to sixth street. It was a superficial trip, really. I wanted to know what it felt like to be the hottest one in the room. To be wanted by everyone, male or female.

I found the valet parking for a resturant that I had no intention of dining at. I gave the valet my keys and told him to park it close and that there would be no charge. One look into my eyes and he didn't even consider disobeying. I wandered the street. Not being a weeknight, the notorious party street was only slightly busy. Which was lucky for me, because anytime I got among a crowd of people my head began to pound with the sounds of their heartbeats and my senses tingled as I smelled the blood in their veins.

I avoided crowds at all costs. I thought about strolling down to the Market District, the gay party spot of Austin. I could catch the eye of some young hot thing and make him mine for the night. And just when he thought he had me, I would reject him. Payback for making the nerdy fat boy feel hopeless for so many years. But no, I wanted more of a challange.

I stayed on sixth street. I watched as drunken frat boys flirted with girls and poured copious amounts of liquor down their throats. I listened to their heartbeats as they approached girls much more beautiful than they were. I heard the beats quicken, racing with the adrenaline and nervous jitters.

Finally, at the most heterosexual of dive bars, I found the man. He was tall, lean but muscled, blonde hair, blue eyes. he had a backward cap on. His polo shirt was tight against his pecs and his jeans were slung low on his hips, giving just a peek of his boxer briefs. I sat across from him and his "boys" and kept my eyes on them.

I watched him for about fifteen minutes. I wanted to be sure he was to be my conquest. I listened with my now superior hearing as he talked about the women he had and how he had made them climax. All this was in much more graphic language. After I was completely sure that he was the one, I willed him to look at me. It took a good ten minutes of concentration but eventually he looked at me. I locked my eyes on his baby blues and concentrated on the stare. He tried to look away, but seemed unable to break our look. After a few minutes of concentration, he left his buddies and walked toward me.

I sat up straight as he walked toward me. Why was I nervous? I was in control! Finally! He seemed uncomfortable as he walked towards me. His friends looked on in confusion as he moved toward me. It seemed he was moving in slow motion. I was elated! My very own heterosexual Abercrombie model was on his way to me. He finally reached my table and extended his hand. I took it and he told me his name was Ben. I told him my name and asked him to join me. He sat at the table nervously.

"Do you want to join us? I saw you watching us," he asked me. I smiled slightly and looked him directly in the eye. I replied "Actually, I would really like a beer. And I would like it if you would join me for the rest of the evening. Would you like that?"

I stared at him hard, never breaking the look. I concentrated hard. I willed him to accept. Of course, he did. And within a few moments he was sitting next to me at my table. A beer was open in front of me. I don't think he even noticed that I never sipped from it. He glanced at his friends, as if helpless and they seemed shocked and confused, almost angry. I asked him about his life. He was 22 and played football for the University of Texas. He was studying history but really wanted to be a professional football player. He told me about his girlfriend and how he had never been unfaithful, even though he lied to his friends about his many conquests.

Eventually his friends got up to move on to another bar. They stopped by and I introduced myself to them. They asked if he was coming and he looked at me. I willed it and he told them he would rather stay with me for the rest of the evening. They left scratching their heads in disbelief.

After that, I moved quickly. In less than ten minutes we were out of the bar. He was stumbling along beside me. I pulled him into a dark alleyway and pushed him against the wall. "You want me, don't you?" I asked him. I didnt even have to will it anymore. He DID want me. I could feel his bodies response to me and I was certain of what he wanted.

I crushed my lips against his. We kissed for the longest time. Soon, he had wrapped his muscular arms around my waist and pressed his body against mine. I could feel his heartbeat against my skin. And then it happened. The urge came upon me. I could smell the blood in the veins of his throat. My ears were filled with the sound of his pulse. The smell grew strong and I felt my lips travel down to his throat. This was more than I had intended.

And for the first time, felt something sharp push against my lips. I reached up with a free hand and felt them. The fangs. They had come out. And then as if I couldn't control myself I opened my mouth and pressed it against his neck. This isn't what I wanted. As i began to suck, he began to moan softly and I felt the tip of my fangs push against his skin. It wasn't broken yet. I HAD to stop! His hands pulled against my body, groping me and scratching at my back.

It took all the will I had. I pulled away from him and stumbled backward across the alley to the other wall. The urge was still there and it was growing. "Whats wrong?" he asked. I responded with a lame excuse about having to leave and began to walk down the alley. The urge was stronger than ever before and his heartbeat was about to burst my eardrums. "Don't leave. I want to go with you." he pleaded. I pulled a pen out of my back pocket and hurried to him. It was painful to be close to him. I wrote my cell phone number on his hand. He tried to kiss me again but I pushed him away, too roughly it seemed. He fell to the ground. I backed away quickly. I turned and walked out of the alley and I heard him mumble, "I'll call you."

I raced to the car, the smell of blood all around me. I had never wanted something so bad. My stomach was on fire and I couldn't stop the pounding in my ears. The valet took forever to get my car it seemed although it could not have been more than 3 minutes. I got in and drove as fast as I could back home. When I pulled into the parking lot, I sat in my car and waited for my fangs to descend from wherever they had come from. But it never happened. My stomach was still hurting. I got out of the car. I had to drink blood now. Any blood. The meat in my freezer would have to suffice.

And then I saw it. The tiny pink eyed, white, fluffy bunny. I could smell its blood. It even SMELLED warm. I could hear its tiny heartbeat. I could almost see the blood beneath its fur. My legs moved of their own accord. I leaped over the sand pit. I dove over the merry-go-round and seemed to land on my feet within a foot of the bunny. I grabbed it and before I knew what happened. I sank my teeth in to its flesh.

It squirmed and kicked in my hands as I drained it. When I could no longer feel the blood rushing into my mouth, I threw the carcass away from me. It landed in the grass about fifty feet away. I lay back on the grass and felt the blood fill my body. It seemd to fill me from my toes all the way to my brain. The stars above me seemed to flash. All the world was right. I felt more alive than I had since the night I recieved the kiss of death from the dark man.

I thought to myself...this is going to be a problem.

-Mike