It's Just The Hardest Part of Living

The smell of cheap liquor and disappointment hung in the air. Its after two o'clock in the morning and, as usual, I am awake. My sleepless nights plagued by the disaster that is my life and the arguments between my parents. Their slurs and the sounds of glass breaking always making way up to my room. I always ask myself as to why I choose to live like this. I hate the choice I've made, but it's one I've been made to live with if I wanted anything out of life.

My name is Frank, and I'm a vampire. No, not the sparkly kind. Not the "burst into flames the second the sun graces your skin" kind either. The fables and fantasy around my kind are exactly that; false. Vampires are something to actually be feared. Well, not me. I'm nothing but a little fertile living a lie. Nobody knows who, or what I am. No, it's the Dominates that rule. The submissive do as well, they're more what you would consider the house wives. But in the world I should be living in, I wouldn't have to cry myself to sleep every night.

So why do I live like this? Well I didn't have a choice. My mother is human, my father not my real father. My real father died a long time ago, when I was just a year old. After his passing my mom moved us across the country to New Jersey, where she met the disaster of her life. I'm forced to call this man my father to somehow hold up appearances I really have nothing to do with. He came into our lives when I was about two years old. My earliest memories of him were drunken passing outs on the couch and demeaning words to me.

I grew up knowing about vampires. My mom is a self proclaimed "vampire slayer". She talked about how awful they were, how it was a sin to be non-human. I knew better. Google and the news were my best friends. I also learned that your average human cant kill a vampire. It's actually illegal to try and is punishable by death or, worse, slavery. She convinced my father to join in on her plan to make me think they were the worst beings in the world. I'm believing it's because she didn't think I would ever figure out what I am, and if I did that I either wouldn't be able to conceal it or that I would run away. I wouldn't know where to go anyway.

I figured out my identity when I was about 8. By this time my mom had already told me a lot about...well, my world. At that time I was afraid she would kill me. I was still young and naive enough to actually love her and care for her well being. Now? Yes, she is my mom and I do love her. I mostly have stayed to make sure she doesn't get killed by this joke of a husband of hers. I also know now that she can't kill me, but I'm not going to let her in on who I really am. That would probably buy me a ticket to some permanent lock up,which would possibly be worse.

Somewhere between hearing a bottle break, my tear-stained face burrowing in my pillow, and now, I fell asleep. I woke to the shrill sound of my alarm clock, the green numbers reading 6:30 a.m. I dragged my sore body out of the bed and headed for a shower. Making my way to the bathroom I heard mumbling downstairs. I closed the door to a crack, hopefully to listen in on their conversation.

"If you would have paid attention to him like a father would have, I wouldn't have to send him to some new school," I heard my mom whisper. New school? Why? I mean don't get me wrong, never seeing those immature, sweat smelling, over hormonal yet under developed cretins again I wouldn't shed one tear. But if they think a new school is going to save me, well they have another thing coming.

"He's your pansy ass of a son, who you babied and coddled. This new school is private and more constructed. The wimp might learn a thing or two out of it, and probably stop that gay shit," my father spoke, louder than her. He didn't care if I heard, not that they knew I was listening. I didn't need to anymore, so I shut the door. I don't need to listen as I'm bashed for lifestyle choices that are perfectly normal in my world. Humans are a disgusting kind sometimes...

I stripped and glanced at myself in the mirror. I wasn't ugly, no, I was far from it. Submissive are particularly beautiful creatures. My skin was milky white, hairless other than my head and eyebrows, flawless. I had a few tattoos that graced my skin, one scorpion on my neck that pissed my father off quite a bit. I chuckled at the thought of his face turning deep red when he seen it. Hell, he wasn't my real father and I'd found it quite funny. My mom just sighed and told me to cover it when I could.

I dressed after my shower, which was a bit longer than it should have been. I stayed in the hot water as long as I could mulling over this new school situation. I shot on a pair of black jeans, an over sized black t-shirt, a red hoodie that was probably a size to big, and sneakers. I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs, dreading this new conversation. I walked in the kitchen, a haze in the air. I could smell floor cleaner and seen the broken bottles in the trash. I shook my head.

"Get in the car," my mom said to me. I looked at her, she didn't know I had been listening.

"I'm okay with walking," I replied, keeping up appearances.

"You're changing schools, boy, now do what your mother said," my father huffed. I gave him a look, holding back a snarl from leaving my lips. I am not going to let his ignorance draw out who I am.

"Why?" I asked, turning my face to my mom. Her face looked defeated and tired, the bags under her eyes making her look older than her 34 years.

"We think it's time for a change. Hope for the future, maybe get you out of this depression you're always in," she trailed off.

"Get you out of this pansy, little girl phase you think is okay," my father inserted. She shot him a look.

"Yeah, a school is going to change who I am. Christ, you're fucking dumb," I said to him, turning to leave. I heard the chair scrape across the floor as he got up. My mom must have gotten in between my and him, because he never made it to me. I continued to walk out of the house to the car.

My mom shortly followed. The ride to the school was a long one. Not really the time it took, that was about 10 minutes. The quiet is what made it drag. The tension hung in the air, choking thick almost. I wanted to say something to her, anything, but no words could come out. I looked over at her a few times, each her face showing no emotion. She was cold, distant, possibly thinking of something else? It didn't matter I decided, it wasn't like I would ask her anyway.

We pulled up to a large, institutional looking building. A large black marble sign out front engraved with words labeling it as Pencey High. I slumped my shoulders a bit not really wanting to go in. I didn't really want to start over. I didn't want to go through the stares and whispers. I hated being the center of attention. New schools offered that.

"Just go in, the office is to the left. First door, you really can't miss it," she said. Her voice hard as stone. "Good luck."

I looked at her for a minute, hoping maybe she would look back at me. When she didn't I got out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I took the long walk up the front steps and rang the buzzer to the front door, awaiting entrance. When I did I made my way to the office, right where my mom said it would be. I walked in and a scent wafted in my face. The smell was that of a vampire. A dominant one. The smell was sweet, like pastries, with a hint of human blood mixed in. I scanned the room and almost lost my shit.

Every one of the people in here were vampires. There was a small female sitting at a desk that looked my way. She chuckled a bit and stood up, walking to the back. When she returned she had paperwork in her hands, and was followed by a tall, dominate male. He had a name tag on labeling him to be Mr. Stewart the high school principal. He smiled as he walked towards me. I swallowed the lump I just noticed was in my throat.

"You must be Frank," he said joyfully. I wasn't used to being greeted with kindness. "Come with me to my office."

He opened the small door that led to the other side of the office. I followed him to a small room that held a desk with a computer on it, a computer chair, two office chairs, and a file holder against the wall filled with files and papers. I sat in one of the office chairs as he sat down behind the computer. I felt nervous. How in the hell could my mother have possibly managed this without knowing what was going on.

"Okay, so let me set up your schedule," he continued, clicking a few things. "Home Ec, Sub History, Sub Studies, of course math, science..."

"Mr. Stewart," I finally managed to squeak out. He looked at me. "Does my mom know...?"

"Oh no, absolutely not. I actually only met with her once, that was outside. She signed what she needed to then, just some transfer papers. We pulled everything from your old school. I know what you've been through, Frank, and I'm going to make sure that you're finally okay where you're supposed to be."

He smiled again and I almost wanted to cry. But how did he know what I'd been through? How would he know to keep everything down low? I went to ask when he stood up and pulled papers that had just printed out. He gave me a schedule, what looked like a syllabus, and a card with a locker number and combination on it. I was still in shock as I sat frozen. He looked at me.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I think he wanted to laugh again, but my face must have stopped him. I nodded.

"How did you know what I have been through? How would you know to keep everything so secret?" I spoke so fast I wasn't sure if he'd understood me. He set the other papers on the desk and leaned against it.

"Frank, you're a vampire. We know what goes on with everybody in our world. We knew you were trying to keep your identity away from your parents. We were going to respect those wishes until the time came. When we were tipped off they wanted to switch your schooling I had a representative talk her into Pencey. We promised it was a top notch school that didn't accept any poor choices or decisions and that such behavior would be met with consequences. She took that at what is was and agreed right away. We've been keeping tabs on you since you were about 7 years old."

I started to breath again. I haven't gone unknown. They stepped in when they found the chance. I felt an overwhelming amount of gratefulness and gratitude. For the first time in probably forever I felt a sense of calmness and safety. Mr. Stewart smiled once again and left the room. I looked over my schedule, half listening to a name called over the loudspeaker to come to the main office. I realized I was smiling as I looked things over.

"Frank, we have your student you're going to shadow for the day," the female said to me. I noted on her tag her name was Mrs. Waldorf. I nodded and stood up, making sure to take my things with me. I walked out to the front to see Mr. Stewart talking to a boy.

And when I laid eyes on this boy my heart stopped. I don't know what it was, but I hoped this was the boy showing me around. He was taller than me, not that that's really saying much at my 5'5", thin with raven black hair. A black leather jacket hung over his structured frame, fitting him perfectly. I could see the natural muscle that peaked out under his sleeves. I'd just realized he was staring at me and I quickly looked away. I noticed the smirk on his face before I did.

"Frank, this is Gerard Way. He's going to be showing you around," Mr. Stewart turned to me. I nodded and thanked him sincerely. I walked up to them.

"Follow me," Gerard teased with his finger. If I stayed around him I swear I was going to develop a serious heart condition. I followed him out of the office.

This was going to be a day...

Notes

Wow. I finally started this again. I honestly almost never thought I would. Anyway, introductions are in order.

Hi! I'm Caps. If you haven't read the description of this story, first off: what? Secondly: I started this story about 6 years ago on Mibba. This was the first story I ever put out on the internet and I remembered how much I loved it. I re-read it and realized how awful the writing was, but loved the plot. 2 years ago I started to re-write it...and stopped. A few weeks ago I logged into Mibba again and actually wrote it again. I'm committed to hopefully finishing it this time.

So if you're from Mibba and possibly remember this story, let me know! I'd love to hear from the original people who read this. If you're of course new, I really hope you like this story. So please give me feedback, comments, love etc... oh and subscribe. That's a thing right?

I love you all!
XOCaps