Eat Me, Drink Me

Eat Me, Drink Me

This is not a vampire love story. I had a little vision after I listened to a Insane Clown Posse song, but I'm obviously not a producer or director so I'm sharing this horror with you lovelies.

Chapter 2

If I Was Your Vampire

Marilyn's POV (in apocalyptic times):
Life has always been a charm, in its own little gothic way. I grew up not rich but well off and I can't remember a time I wasn't happy. I should have known this good fortune wouldn't last forever, but it was all I ever knew. There were signs. One being the Satanic cult I grew up in. Don't be blinded by the Satanic part. They're as nice as anyone else just with scarier habits and rituals. I myself never cared for it. Just went through the motions as it were. I had no control over what happened once I was dead. My soul still watches in horror as my dead, possessed body still wreaks havoc on the world above. If you're angry or frightened, blame the cult. They swore away their children as minions and sacrificed themselves to help it along. I truly regret your suffering, but there's nothing any of us can do except pray to God for an intervention. I cry for you every day.

Andy's POV (August 9, 2007):
Life's always sucked. Good karma and luck forget about me. No matter what I do, a kick in the sack always awaits me, even if it's totally unrelated to what I was doing. In school, I'm a failure and everyone's always hated me. Typical teenage washout story. But it does happens, despite whatever kind of life you live. Yes, I have contemplated suicide, but I always am hoping my life will turn around before that happens. So far nothing. I've been surveying the bridge a lot these days, because when I go down, I want people to remember. Maybe even feel a little guilty. What's wrong with that? At least I might see some feelings other than hatred. Or maybe they'll all just be relieved and have a party. Another party I was never invited to. Now even suicide won't make me feel better. I need to stop over thinking things. That might just be what made life so lifeless in the first place. While thinking about my dim future, I don't even see the girl sit on the rail right next to me. After a while she gets impatient and says "If you don't want to talk to me I can leave." I look up at her startled and fall into the water below. Jesus Christ it's cold! The attention grabbing death is out of the question. I look up to where we were sitting but she wasn't there. I start swimming for land and there she is waiting. "I suppose not many girls have approached you that way, huh?" she said with a small smile. She's pretty. "No girls ever talk to me, unless they're insulting me." She frowned at that, and I didn't like it. This was one of those girls that have the power to wrap you around their fingers. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a mutated freak of nature but I just naturally make enemies without trying, so no one talks to me. "Well let me be the first. I'm Marilyn." "Andy." "That a nickname?" "No, but for some reason my grandma likes to call me Anthony." "Do you need a ride home or something?" "No. I can walk." "Good cuz I don't have a car." "Your old enough aren't you?" She smiled real big and blushed like she was flattered. "10." "Really? Wow. You're so pretty. I'm 12." "Yupp. You'll die first," Marilyn teased. As much as I hoped that wasn't a subtle death threat, I couldn't help thinking this might be the girl for me. She was real in a subtle not in your face way. She had strawberry blonde hair as long as my arm and her eyes were honey that dripped into your soul searching for anything that buzzed. She had the fairest skin, unblemished and slightly tanned. Extravagant was too modest a word. She was nothing short of angelic. I had a feeling I would soon become a lovesick fool for her if that was what she wanted. I would do anything. I would be anything. Anything.

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