The Vampire. Cont'd (7)

By the time Astrid walked in the door that afternoon she was exhausted but this was different from the last few days. She sighed happily and rested her backpack down on the foyer’s linoleum flooring,1

“I’m home.” Her voice seemed to echo through the house but she knew someone was home, there was a vehicle parked out front.2

She strolled into the kitchen, spying some brown bread that appeared to have just come out of the oven. Glancing around she crept forward, about ready to cut a slice and devour it.3

“Don’t you touch that!” Her mother interjected, “That is for the church bake sale on Saturday.”4

“Aw, Mom… How come you don’t ever bake for us?”5

“Does it look like I have time?” Her mother asked, raising an eyebrow. Again she had a clothes basket tucked under her arm but this one was full of her clothing.6

Astrid groaned and held out her arms to receive the basket, knowing she had to fold and put away her clothes within the diminishing hour. 7

“How was your day, honey?” 8

“It wasn’t bad,” she replied, setting the basket down on the floor so she could sit at the island. “I think I’m up to speed on everything, including the gossip.”9

Her mother laughed airily as she began to peel potatoes, 10

“Oh yes, where would every teenager be without gossip and drama?” 11

Resting her elbow on the hard countertop Astrid held her chin in her hands as she watched her mother’s particular peels. 12

“You seem to be doing much better today, Astrid. That’s a very good sign.”13

“Well I figured I could either be miserable for the rest of my life or get over it,” the teen shrugged easily as she slid off the stool, “So I got over it.”14

Her mother chuckled and glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, “I’m glad it was so easy for you, Astrid. I could only imagine how difficult things were.”15

A silence settled between them and Astrid had to admit, it was mildly awkward. She scooped up the clothes basket and quietly excused herself to her room so she could begin folding the clothes. On the way home today she had decided her homework could wait for later that night when everyone had fallen asleep, she didn’t want any interruptions.16

Setting the basket on the floor she pulled back her curtains, letting the afternoon sun shine in so it would warm up her room. Despite the power of the sun today it was still chilly she had found, bundling herself up before she left this morning for school. 17

She sighed, holding a pair of jeans in her hands, 18

School… she thought, everyone seemed so surprised that I was talking today and interacting. Had I been that bad lately? I didn’t think that I was being quiet or distant. I mean, in my head there was so much going on that it always seemed so loud! I guess things are just going to get better from here. No more Warren.19

Astrid finished folding the jeans and tossed them aside; they would only be hung up once she was done the others. Out of the corner of her eye however, she caught a glimpse of something red occupying the faux crystal vase she bought at a yard sale a few years back.20

Crawling over to her vanity she peered at the vase, starting at the base her eyes scanned upward until finally resting on the beautiful bud of a red rose. Pushing herself to her feet she lifted it from its glass prison to examine it closely.21

Beautiful velvet pedals were pressed between her thumb and forefinger gently as she gave it the once over. The crimson painted bud seemed perfect in its simplicity and the lengthy green stem was thick and wet. In her awe Astrid managed to prick herself on what looked like the roses’ only thorn.22

“Leave it to me,” she grumbled before slipping her finger into her mouth. 23

Replacing the beauty back in the vase she stuck her head out of her bedroom door,24

“Thanks for the rose, Mom. It’s really gorgeous.” 25

“What rose?” Her mother asked, appearing in the hall,26

“This one,” Astrid replied, gesturing to the flower on her vanity once her mother had entered the room.27

“It’s beautiful!” Her mother exclaimed, taking the vase into her hand. She gave it a sniff but wrinkled her nose and set it back down as the smile returned to her face. “Perhaps it was your father; he’s always doing things like that.”28

Astrid nodded, “Yeah, maybe it was dad.”29

But she couldn’t help but wonder in the back of her mind if maybe, just maybe someone else had slipped into her room doing the day and rested it there. 30

***31

For the remainder of the evening Astrid had immersed herself in just about anything to keep her busy so she wouldn’t think about the rose or where it may have come from.32

At supper her father had ruined her last hope that it had been him that gave her the rose and so in her mind it only meant one other person could have done it without getting noticed; Warren.33

Anger stirred inside her as she worked feverishly at her History homework in an attempt to keep her mind from reaching for him.34

Why would he do that? Why would Warren send me a rose? Is he trying to drive me absolutely insane?35

She frowned and scribbled out almost a paragraph before beginning to write it over again,36

I’m trying to forget about him because it is easier then wonder if he still thinks of me. But of course he still does, otherwise how would I get a beautifully perfect rose?37

Astrid groaned aloud and let her head thump against her textbook, her eyes fluttering closed. This should not be happening to her, especially after her vow.38

“It lasted what, a day? I’m so pathetic… I can’t even get over him. And I didn’t even know him that long! This should be a breeze!”39

So why isn’t it? She mused, closing her textbook and binder before resting them on her floor. Rolling over she flicked out the lamp light, deciding it was best for her to get some sleep and push him to the back of her mind where he belongs.40

“I’m stronger then this, Warren.” She whispered into the dark, “I will forget all about you and this mess you’ve gotten me into.”41

Within the hour Astrid had fallen asleep, peacefully curled up in her blankets while across the room gentle and caring eyes watched her. The unwelcomed visitor fingered his gift, rubbing the velvet pedals gently as he watched his love sleep.42