Unapologetic Apathy

I hated everything.

Frank was hurt, all because of me. All because I couldn't control myself. He was alive, though. But I couldn't help but wonder what he must have been thinking when I attacked him. Was he scared? Confused? Annoyed? Probably frustrated and disappointed, most likely. I just hoped he didn't feel betrayed or anything. If he knew how much I loved him...

I sat on the couch, curled up and staring at the streaks of blood stains from the night before on the arm. Was Frank okay? Did he hate me? Probably. If he didn't want to see me again, I wouldn't bother him. But it would kill me to not see him anyway.

Why couldn't I stop humming that fucking music? It was an old song, but I kept forgetting where it came from. Italy, probably. I didn't remeber the words like I did some songs, but the tune was stuck in y head- oh.

1817. Four years after Lindsey turned me. I was 27, but I still looked 23. My brother was 24 now, and he lived with me almost full time as he was always in these business trips of his. He dropped by and stayed at the family manor when he wasn't working out of town. He was supposed to share this manor with me, but he decided that staying in one place wasn't for him; and he'd rather see what life could offer. But due to my condition, he found himself in the mansion more times than I think he would've liked.

He worked as a deliverer for goods and merchandise across seas for a time before I was turned. He left for weeks on end sometimes. He would go to far off lands, learn new things, sea new cultures, trade with them, then return by ship to Anerica. He was on one of these trips when I was turned. Ever since, his work attendance suffered because he needs to be at home more than usual. But he didn't seem to mind.

My brother was the responsible one. He was the one who got to travel the world. He was the one to stay away from his bigger opportunity in order to keep me....from not killing everyone or hurting myself. He went out of his way to give me vials of blood and deliver me old spell books and black magic artifacts. Any other person would ignore me, and they would go on their own way and find success. But Mikey took care Of me.

One night, after being gone for a month on a trip to Italy, he came home to find me hidden in my bedroom and covered in blood and quite feral. It wasn't a nice surprise for him when he got back from weeks at sea. I lunged at him and tried to bite at him. He dodged me and somehow found a way to survive. I don't remember that.

I remeber waking up and being so ashamed at what I did that I didn't see anyone, including Mikey, for weeks. I bit him, and I promised myself I wouldn't do that. But Mikey tracked me down and told me it was okay. He distracted me by telling me about Italy and all its wonders. And he showed me that song.

I dont remeber what the song was called. I just remeber what he said to me.

How it it was all going to be allright.

That it wasn't the end of the world.


I blinked and tears came to my eyes with a burn. I rolled over on the couch and let them silently drip down my nose and dampen the upholstery.

I missed Mikey. I missed Frank. I missed living in the manor when sunlight illuminated the halls and the maids bustled around with trays of tea and sweets for Mikey and I. I missed when it was okay, and I was a little kid with Mikey and we ran down the stairs and the house was full of laughter. When the yard was lush and green and our gardener was friendly. When the trees weren't overgrown and the grass burnt from the 'bonfire' I had. When the walls never had dead bodies in them.

I couldnt see any of that, now. I couldn't remeber how bright and warm the room I was in was when Mikey came home with a note in his hand and a smile on his face. He threw the letter at my parents and cried out with laughter. When I read it, I grabbed him in a big hug and congratulated him on his big accomplishment.

"You're going to Spain!" I laughed at him.

"And everywhere that goods need to be delivered!" He added.

I tried to remeber the day when my parents told me about the arranged marriage, and when Lyndsey moved in with me, and when my parents moved out and left the house to me in their will.

"Mikey won't need it while he's travelling the world," they told me. I nodded. Back then, the world was simpler and brighter. The house was warm and clean and lavish with furniture and decorations. I just remeber the slow decline as everyone who ever lived there died off...slowly the house became what it was today. And I was still stuck here. I was the only one alive from the good days. When everything was okay.

Mikey made it bareable. Frank made it desirable. Now, they were both destined to leave me. I scrunched my eyes shut. Maybe when I opened them, I'd wake up and everything would be okay. I'd never have to suffer through the years of loneliness. I'd never have to lose Mikey. I'd never been dispized by the citizens of the town. I'd still be alive, rich, successful, and happy.

but I wouldn't have Frank.

Thats when Mikey's words hit me.

"Everything will be okay," he said while I was still dealing with the aftershocks when Lindsey turned me. The first week had been Mikey keeping me from killing someone. He had patted me on the back as I hunched over the desk I was at trying desperately to contact Lyndsey and ask what was going on. Of course, she never replied. Maybe it was for the best.

"Everything will be okay," he told me during before he left for a few days. I was in a near panic that without him I would hurt someone. I didn't. He came home and life went on as usual.

"Everything will be okay," he told me when I was angry at myself for biting him when he came home from Italy. When he hummed me the song. When he left me alone to deal with things by myself.

"Everything will be okay," he told me on his death bed. When I was scared to death of life when he was gone. When I was sad my best friend was dying: leaving me forever.

"Everything will be okay," Frank said to me as I cried and explained everything that was bothering me, when he came home from the hospital. When I apologized over and over through tears. He patted me on te back and gave me a long hug. He had a huge bandage on his neck and looked tired as hell, but he still stuck around.

Thats how I knew I loved Frank. And that's how I knew he loved me.

Notes