#heratic

CHAPTER 1

Word Count: 2053

Art paintings that had taken hours to create covered the walls of my room like they were wallpaper. One painting caught my eye - a little girl with her back to the viewer, holding a sledgehammer that probably weighed more than her. The only colour other than black and white being the pink dress that stood out like a sore thumb. Splattered pieces of paint covered the light-wood panels on the floor. Did I do that on purpose? Hell no. But it still looked pretty cool.

I would go into detail about what my room looked like but I don't think you want to hear about the mess that would soon resemble my life. Tiredly, I made my way over to my wardrobe; I didn't know what to wear. Still half asleep, I picked out a pair of hot-pants, a black vest top and a leather jacket. This wasn't my usual attire but I thought that it would be best if I dressed for the occasion. My black platform high heels clanged against the wooden panels most people would call the floor as I walked over to the vanity in the corner of my room; it was so conveniently placed next to my window which rarely let light shine through it since I can never be bothered to open my blinds. Okay, maybe I can be bothered, I just don't want to; it would also be pretty pointless to open my blinds at this time.

12:30am.

Almost time for me to leave. Before I left, I made sure that my charcoal black hair looked decent enough for going outside. 'Tonight was going to be a good night.' I thought to myself as I strutted downstairs and out of the run-down house.

There it was. My trusty jet black Camaro. The bloodlust was getting stronger; it was nothing I couldn't handle though. The old leather seats were amazingly comfortable and the hum of the engine ran through me like the blood in my veins. The brilliant white lights shone onto the road ahead as the car began to move to my unknown destination.

Once I had decided where the best destination would be, I pulled up next to it and parked my car in an empty space. In order to make sure that my car wasn't noticeable, I pressed the button on my car keys and turned the lights off. 'Sinners' was a strip club in the middle of town. I walked over to the side of the building and leant against the wall; there was sure to be someone desperate enough to go looking for some fun outside of a strip club even though they know exactly what's through the doors a few meters away. Waiting, I leant against the wall and held my hand in front of my face and looked at my raven black nails.

Seconds seemed like minutes. Minutes seemed like hours and finally, a drunk victim caught my eye. Smirking, I walked over to the poor unfortunate soul, the smell of the alcohol already burning my nose. I grimaced before seductively waving the man who was far too drunk for early on a Monday morning. Not to my surprise, he obeyed and stumbled over to me.

"How much?" He slurred before giving me £20. A devious smirk made its way onto my face before I slammed my lips onto his. The smell of the alcohol still repulsed me but I chose to ignore it. After minutes of kissing this disgusting man, I went on to kiss from his collar bone up to his ear lobe. Soft moans escaped his mouth and I chuckled a bit against his neck.

I had waited far too long and I was getting impatient. "Don't make a sound." I whispered after biting his earlobe, being able to compel him with just my voice. My veins began to burn as the bloodlust got stronger; I almost couldn't handle it. My nails grew and my eyes began to burn as the whites of my eyes turned to a blood red. Fear was evident with his facial expression - he opened his mouth and tried to do the impossible, scream, shout possibly, maybe cry for help.

He was a sitting duck. I loved it. "Awe... don't worry. I'll try to make it quick." I mocked him, bringing up my hand to his neck. My now fully lengthened nails tore through the front of his neck, effectively cutting his trachea in half. The aroma of the blood instantly hit me and I was taken aback by the amazing scent. Blood now covered both my face and the brick wall behind me. It was now or never. Okay, who am I kidding? I had all of the time in the world. My teeth began to grow to a point as my bloodlust began to hit its maximum.

Not wasting any time, I dug my teeth into my evening meal, drinking his blood until his whole body turned a blue-ish grey and his body flopped like a dead fish. Satisfied, I dropped the now lifeless body to the concrete pavement. Blood now soaked my black vest top and covered from my nose down to my chin like dark red paint. Using the back of my hand, I wiped the blood off my chin a bit before strutting back over to my car, leaving the helpless no behind me.

The sun was now coming up. It was the time where all vampires other supernatural beings would be on their way back to their prisons they like to call home. A lot of the time, they only go home to get cleaned up so that they can go out the next day and roleplay their own fake lives that they have made up for themselves. And for what? Just so that they won't end up in a lab somewhere? Just so that the selfish humans can attempt to begin to understand something that we all know that they can't handle? However, I have one of these 'fake' lives too. Call me a hypocrite. Call me whatever you want. It's how we all go without people getting suspicious. Who wouldn't get suspicious about someone living in a house and only going out at night to come home in the early morning covered in someone else's blood?

Luckily, my daylight ring sat on my right index finger. Daylight rings are pretty self explanatory to say the least. You have one on? You can live your 'fake' life in the daylight freely. You don't? Well that' a completely different story. For me, it's like an extremely bad sun burn. A deadly sunburn. Your veins will start to fry inside of you and your organs will begin to shut down one by one. Whilst this is happening, your skin will sizzle and burn to a crisp. It destroys your body essentially. It destroys you until you're nothing. Until you're nothing but dust...

Completely happy with this mornings events so far, I sat down in my black Camaro; I put the keys into the ignition. After connecting my rose gold IPhone 6 to my car, I went onto Spotify and put my playlist on shuffle. To my peace of mind, Fun by Troye Sivan blasted through the speakers. This was my favourite song. Then again, I say that for every Troye Sivan song that comes on. I guess they're all my favourite. Once again, the lights on the front of the car came on as soon as the car started. The lights shone onto the road in front of me, not that I needed them to. I could easily see where I was going without them. I mostly used them just so that people didn't end up crashing into my car and I didn't end up killing them out of annoyance. You see, I'm one of those people that tends to get annoyed easily - too easily. I'm that one person that sits at the back of the class who gets annoyed at someone accidentally dropping a pen. The person that most people tend to avoid as they can see the annoyance just by looking at my face. And sometimes, if I get annoyed enough, I kill. Now I'm sure that a lot of people wouldn't want that? Especially me. It might be good for me at the time, but in the long run, if someone sees me or word gets out about what I am, I have to move to a different continent just to be safe.

Finally, I was back home. 'Welcome' the mat in front of the white wooden front door said. Pretty ironic considering the fact that my 'home' is the polar opposite of welcoming. Yet another thing that's fake. The mat that resembles how perfect my imperfect family is. Can you even call it that? Can you call the people that you never see because they're too wrapped up in their own lives to even acknowledge your existence 'family'? Yes, they are the reason I'm here. Yes, they let me live under their roof. Yes, the want us to look like the perfect family that everyone looks up to. But what's the point? Everyone knows that every family isn't as perfect as they seem to be; every family is the same. Trying to hide the families imperfections with non-existent perfections that everyone can see through as if they were looking through a transparent window.

Sighing, I opened the front door with the spare key underneath the welcome mat. Curiously, I slammed the door to see if anyone would notice that I had been gone. Nothing. It was like the house was empty even though the smell of the other inhabitants was easily stronger than Roman Reigns. Typical. Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the room that I spent most of my time in - my bed room. The time that I had before school seemed to be ticking away even though I knew that I had at least two hours to get ready and drive to the hell hole that most people like to call school.

My room was still exactly the same as when I left. Then again, what would have changed? It's not like anyone except for me comes into this room anyways. My shoes hit off the wooden panels that separated my room from the living room which was just below. For the second time in this beautiful morning, I walked over to my mahogany, wooden wardrobe and decided on what to wear. My outfit of the day ended up being a white lace jumper tucked into a black skater skirt, and some burgundy wedges with laces. For jewelry, I added a silver rose ring and some dangly rose earrings. Can you tell what my favourite flower is yet? You got it, roses. Satisfied with the way I looked, I walked over to the vanity next to the window and began to do my make-up. However, I needed to wipe my blood-covered face first. Unless I wanted to go to school looking like something from a haunted house. Or who knows, maybe someone would like the sight of me with someone else's blood dripping down my face. My winged eyeliner was as perfect as the New York skyline, flicking out and coming to a point evenly on both eyes. About 15 minutes after, I had finished my contouring, mascara and eyeshadow, and I added some dark red lipstick to finish off the look. Not going to lie, I looked pretty hot to say the least.

Still having about an hour to get to school, I decided that I should probably feed my non-existent coffee addiction and go to Starbucks. You're probably thinking I'm a typical white-girl right now, right? Well when you think about it, would a typical white girl have gone out in the middle of the night and killed someone just for their own enjoyment? Probably not. Vampires do have to drink blood to stay alive, but not me. Because I'm not a vampire. 'What am I?' Well that's for me to know and for you to...