A Vampire's Prisinor

“Don’t look back.” I tell myself firmly as I walk down the dark street. “Because if you look back now, you’ll never be able to go through with it.” It is exactly twenty three minutes past one in the morning and I was blindly walking down a city street, not caring where I was going as long as I was going somewhere. As I trudge along, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone, I go over what had happened in my head. 1

It had happened a few hours ago. I was sitting in my room, staring at the floor as my parents yelled at me for my slipping grades. This wasn’t the only reason they were mad at me. I had been caught sneaking out again and just yesterday I had been suspended from school for vandalizing school property. 2

“It wasn’t my fault!” I had pleaded. “I didn’t do it!” But no one had believed me. My parents were convinced I was a lost cause. I could see disappointment in their eyes when they talked about me; as if I was just another troubled teen. And by now, I had given up on trying to prove them wrong. Now, I had decided that was enough. I couldn’t stand it anymore. So, when my parents had finally gone to sleep, I snuck out again.3

Except this time, I wasn’t coming back.4

“They don’t appreciate me. They don’t understand me.” I whisper to myself as tears build up in my eyes. “They probably wish they had never had me. After all,” I add sarcastically, “All I ever do is cause trouble.” I re-adjust the shoulder strap on my backpack, which I had hurriedly stuffed with some clothes before I left. As I walk along, I think, ‘I should have thought more carefully about what I packed. But I was in such a hurry; I just wanted to be out of there before I could change my mind. Maybe I should go back, just so I can grab some more money or something...’ 5

“No!” I suddenly say out loud, causing a few people to briefly stare at me. “If I go back, I may never have the courage to leave again.” And with that, I walk on. I know that my uncertainties about running away will not allow me to leave once I go back, so I quickly expel that thought. I used to be sure, but that was when I was angry. Now that I am focusing more clearly, I realize I’m not sure. I don’t even know where to go from here. What do people do after they run away? Where do they go? I shake my head in a failing attempt to clear it, and decide that a nice walk will ease my mind. 6

I’m too caught up in my own confusion and self-pity to notice them man wandering out of a nearby ally, his distant, unfeeling eyes locked onto mine, as if he had spotted his target. My eyes are to blurry from crying to notice him casually walking up behind me, hurriedly taking a last glance around to make sure there are not witnesses. Right as I start to entertain the thought of turning back, he takes a sudden, firm hold of my arms and drags me into an ally. Started and confused, I have only seconds to think as he forcefully pushes me up against a graffiti-stained wall, raising a metal bar above his head, ready to strike me. Registering in my mind what is happening, I immediately think. ‘I need to scream! Someone in bound to hear me!7

Before I can defend myself, before I can even scream, the metal bar comes down on my head. My vision blacks out for a moment, but soon comes back. Accompanied by searing pain. I find myself on the ground, cornered between the cruel stranger and the wall. As I fell, my shirt caught on the corner of a pipe, ripping a giant hole in my shirt. I quickly attempt to pull myself up, but the man is faster and hits me again, this time hard on the shoulder. I scream, but no one is around at one thirty in the morning to hear me. He lifts the bar again, trying to knock me unconscious, a malicious smile of pitiless amusement playing on his face.8

Another blow to the head leaves me sprawling on the ground. I am bleeding. I can tell. My mind is starting to black out.  I can’t take any more of this. As the man approaches me again, I deliver a bone-cracking kick to his right knee. He cries out and momentarily directs his attention away from me to his injured knee.9

His empty eyes showing no emotion, he soon limps toward me, the metal bar raised yet again. Normanly, I could beat him. But my eyesight is failing, everything is going dim and with my shoulder in such pain I can’t raise myself off the ground. My mind is becoming too hazy to focus. I have lost too much blood. As the metal bar comes down for the final blow, I brace myself for impact. A thought races thought my mind, ‘If I only hadn’t left home! Now look what happened!’10

But for some reason, that final blow never comes. I hear the metallic scrape of the metal bar as it drops, and then man yell out in startled annoyance, “Who are you? What do you think you’re..?” And then a scream. Lifting my head up, I dimly see a shadowy figure as it kneels down toward me. It gently picks me up in it’s arms, and then everything goes black. 11