Blood - a short story written by Berni Albrighton

 

Blood

As I lay in the darkness, I let myself imagine what might happen.

My bed is the top bunk and is level with the open window.

He can come straight onto the bed while I pretend to be asleep.

I practice how I should lie.

Perhaps with both arms bent, hands to the side of my head on the pillow.

That feels right.

Would he would find me more enticing if I laid my head to the right or the left.

Should I spread my hair across the pillow like the women on TV, or tuck it 

underneath out of the way.

I spread it out, it feels right.

I read that he likes the smell of lavender, I have put some under my pillow. 

What about my lack of breasts? The women in films have big breasts with a life 

of their own, heaving with passion and anticipation.

I could pad my bra, but if he feels for them he would find out.

So no, I wont do that.

I chew a piece of lavender to tempt him to kiss me.

What will his breath smell of? 

Blood?

Would I feel sick? 

When the moon is full and bright like now, he comes out, but what night will he 

come to me? 

So as to hide any tell tale mark on my neck, I have started wearing a neck scarf 

in the day. 

My parents think its the latest fashion fad.

Luckily for me Mum wore neck scarfs for years and kept them. 

I wonder why she wore them.

Did he visit her? Was she hiding bite marks on her neck?

She has got quite big fleshy breasts. He might find her attractive.

No, thats not possible, she sleeps with my Dad and he doesn’t like sleeping 

with the windows open. 

I am ready. 

The lights are off, everyone is in bed.

Below me my sister snores.

Will that put him off?

I hear a flutter. 

A bat is coming through the open window.

My heart pounds.

I get into position, pulling the sheet down to expose my neck and shoulders.

In a second the bat transforms into….. Count Dracula.

My breath catches in my throat.

He opens his long cloak and he is on top of me, wrapping me up in the dark 

musty material.

Suddenly I am no longer an awkward 12 year old.

I turn my neck and offer it to him, arching myself up into the cold body above 

me.

I feel the sharpness of his teeth breaking the layers of my skin and then…..

the trickle of warm blood running down my neck.

I listen as he suckles hungrily. I am not afraid. 

He stops….. and looks deep into my eyes. I see my reflection.                          

A pale young girl in the first throes of womanhood. 

He smiles, showing his gleaming white fangs, and trails his soft tongue down  

my neck licking at the traces of blood.

Then he is gone and I am awoken.