THE TASTE OF BLOOD

THE TASTE OF BLOOD

CHAPTER ONE. MAYBE MEMORIES.

I hate everyone.

They all hate me.

That's what I tell myself, anyway. I have to keep it as a constant reminder. There isn't a single person on this God dammed planet that I don't hate. Nobody around me isn't even worth it. They're all disgusting, good for nothing, inferior pieces of crap. They don't know anything in comparison to the big picture. All they do is live, breath, destroy everything around them and then die.
What good is that? What's the point in living if all that it gives birth to is death? There isn't any fucking point. Life is a waste of time when all you are is human. Seventy years for me is a blink of an eye, but for them it's a whole lifetime in which they can bring ruin to everything. God's intentions when he placed humans onto this planet still confuse me. Nothing but food, something to feed from. They're nothing but animals to me.

But then there is him.

Ever since I saw him for the first time, nothing but another piece of pathetic garbage begging on the streets of New Jersey, I knew I had to hate him. I had to hate him just like everybody else. I see him all of the time. All on his own, freezing to death out there. No older than fifteen, and living off the money he earns from selling himself every night.
Disgusting.
He's never spoke to me. He watches me, though. Every time I stroll along the sidewalk, his eyes will follow me, before snapping back to the ground as I turn a corner. It's no different today. Dark, gloomy and cold are the streets of Belleville, and my pale skin has an oddly glow to it. His eyes meet mine, and for a short second I freeze. Just for a tiny moment, I stop to look at this boy, but that's all it takes. He opens his mouth to speak. "Hey, Mister," he gives me a tiny wave with his left hand "I just wanted to uh, say that you're really cool. Vampire and all," his hazel eyes glint in the silver moonlight, his lips curled up into a sheepish smile. His stringy black hair falls around his face, framing it as he peers up at me. Legs crossed, battered iPod in hand, headphones pulled out and ripped jeans; he looks like any normal teenager. Except the bags beneath his eyes tell me that he barely sleeps, and the way his clothes hang from his small frame tell me he hasn't eaten. If anything, he's even lower than the average human. Not even worth glancing at, used up and battered.
"Vampires aren't cool," I tell him, lingering by the dirty blanket that is piled up to his left. Then, I turn to leave but again, he speaks.
"You don't really look like a vampire," he mumbles. I frown as these words enter my ears, and then cast my gaze back down at the young boy. "I mean, your hair," the boy points at my head. "It's bright red, that's not very vampire,"
"I like my hair red," I grunt, trying to dismiss him.
He persists. "So you are a vampire then? You have the eyes... but you don't really look like one still. I guess you're pretty pale, but you just don't look like the others," all of a sudden, he's jumping up onto his feet. I stumble backwards slightly, but he's grinning at me, leaving me slightly confused and annoyed. "So are you thirsty?" his voice is enthusiastic.
I wave a hand. "No, no I'm not fucking thirsty,"
"Please, I'll make it cheap!"
"Kid, I said no,"
"But I need the money, c'mon! I-I taste good, swear to God!"
"No,"
"Well, I'm good at sex, too! Please, I just need a few dollars, that's all, I'll do anything! If you have a place nearby we can go there and fuck, I'll make it good," he's getting desperate, tears sparkling in his hazelnut eyes. I let out a sigh.
"I'm sorry, okay. What's your name?" I don't know why I'm asking him this, but he pushes himself closer to me.
"Frank," he says, his eyes still holding a strong connection with mine. "My name is Frank,"
"Well, Frank. I think you should get off the streets. Go back home or whatever. Did you run away?"
The kid, Frank, shuffles uncomfortably before moving backwards. "My parents are dead," he whispers. Great.
"Don't you have any more family?" I ask, being an insensitive jerk. Frank shakes his head.

It's at this point that I have to remind myself. I hate him. I hate everyone and everything. This kid is no exception.

But then why do I take him in?

Notes

sub/comment/vote bc yolo

xofeb