New beginnings

You would have thought that I would have learned by now. Learned not to trust men that is, again I am hurt and betrayed and have some kind of animalistic anger surging inside my gut. My feelings contradict each other, I hate feeling like this. I love him but I hate him, I want him but I also want to break him. I know I can recover from this and move on like I have done many times before but it feels too hard. I know I will get over it, pick myself up and dust myself off as I always do. I shouldn’t have go so attached, I know this, I always knew it because I know what guys are like and I know what type of guys I go for, the smart charming guys who “care”, for some reason they’re always the ones who hurt you the most. Conniving, cheating, fucking wanker bastards. Male bashing is what I’m good at.
Weeks have gone by since the split, split meaning when he cheated on me with that hoe and ripped my still beating heart right out of my chest (poetic eh?). I feel better slightly, I still want to kill him, I want to hurt him in one way or another. I saw him yesterday, he was alone which was a bonus, I tried to act all happy and stuff but he knows that I’m not, he knows me too well. She spoke to me today, she thinks I’m bitter, I told her I wasn’t although it’s a blatant lie, she is trying to be all friendly not that its working on me. Bitch. I have had enough of thinking, I need to get out. I need to kill.
I walk up to the gate, locked as usual. Climbing was always something I was good at, I look around the dark graveyard, shadows are cast in the moonlight. It’s a stereotypical night, dark, dank, shadows playing tricks on the mind, rustling in nearby bushes. I walk around idly not looking where I am going. I know this place like the back of my hand, I turn around slowly as I hear squelching on the grass behind me. The guy is dressed in a suit, black with a red tie and almost blindingly shiny shoes. He makes a sound which is in between and grunt and a groan. I don’t think he gets it yet.
“Hey dude, you’re meant to attack me now, bear your fangs and kind of lunge at me. Then I get to fight you off and shove this lovely piece of mahogany through your dead heart. You got all that?” I say smiling as I reach the end of my little monologue. He grunts again as he does exactly what I said he would do. He lunges at me trying to grab me with his cold dead hands as I grab one and flip him over onto his back. I sigh and roll my eyes as I bend down.
“That was way to easy, I would give you another try so you can get it right, problem is I am bored and I want to go home to sleep. Buh bye” I say as I stab the shard of wood into his chest. He explodes in a cloud of dust and I stand for a second dusting my jeans down.
“I just washed these and now I got vamp dust all over them” I mutter to myself slightly annoyed.
Contrary to what you think I am not a slayer, well I suppose I am but it’s not all I am, how cheesy does that sound, I mean it though. I am as they say, a living prophesy, I am all that is said to be bad, I am the one who shall bring down civilization and all that bolloks. Problem is that I’m not, I’m not what the prophecy says. I am the mongrel I am a medley of magical beings, okay so shall we make a list then. my mom was a bit of a witch, she had premonitions and could make potions etc but mainly led a normal human life. Her mother was one of the charmed sisters from a good few years ago and so I somehow inherited all the charmed powers, yep all three sisters powers in me. My granddad on my mothers side was a white lighter and guess what? I also inherited those powers too. My fathers side is more yet less complicated at the same time. My father had demon blood in his veins at birth, he lived most of his life without it affecting him in any way, that started to change after my mother gave birth to me. He would have to go out at night when the urges were the strongest to keep us safe, when I was nine he left altogether. I used to see him sometimes when he was feeling okay and the demon wasn’t strong in him, but for the last three years I have only seen him three times. My fathers mother was a fairy of all things and so that is part of me too. My grandfather was a plain normal human. So I was born with all this different blood in me all these different powers, so what is landed on top of me as well as that? I was born a slayer. As fun as it may sound it really isn’t. I have to fight all these stupid demons and vampires because if I don’t loads of people will die. It’s my duty, my job, my burden… whatever you want to call it. It sucks.
“You just don’t get it do you? I don’t want to do this anymore!” I shout.
“You have to keep going, it’s who you are.” He pauses “if you don’t then who will?”
My head falls into my hands as I begin to sob. That’s all I seem to be doing lately.
“Listen Dan, your dead. You don’t have to deal with all the shit I have to deal with do you? You never even had to live with it when you were alive. You’re just a normal dead guy, a normal dead guy who for some reason has been chosen to tell me what to do.” I shoot at him.
“I’m sorry. I am, you think I want you to go through all this? I don’t, I can’t control all this. I can’t control who you are… no one can.” He replies trying to stay calm, although we both know he isn’t.
“Why can’t all the stooped demons just leave me alone, just so I can have a break… for like a month….” I pause and look at his disapproving face. “okay I could cope with two weeks” I sigh.
“Good girl, I can see your breaking” he says smiling slightly.
“Do you have to use that word… I aint broke.”
I’m late for college again, I don’t know why I bother sometimes but other times I love it. I hate early mornings, especially when I have only had an hour or two sleep because I’ve been out fighting the nasties of the world until sunrise. But somehow it makes me feel normal, and I like the feeling. I like being able to learn and spend time with people who don’t know about my after dark activities. Dan doesn’t like me doing the college thing because it means that I’m tired and not “performing” as I should but he doesn’t understand that I need a normal life. If I didn’t have college then I would have many friends at all because I would spend all day sleeping and all night fighting. He had a normal life, he just doesn’t appreciate how nice it is to have that. How good it makes you feel when you sit in a room with all your peers and debate about stuff you will never need to know.
I walk to the smoking shelter preparing for a two hour break. I stand by the wall and spark up a fag. The first drag is always the sweetest. I look up the hill to see if I can spot any of my friends, they aren’t there yet. He walks up to me and asks for a light, I give him my lighter and almost snatch it back off him. He doesn’t get it, how it can still hurt after more than a month. He stands and talks to me, I reply whilst thinking of many nasty comments in my head. Luckily I am saved Rich walks over and stands next to me, making distance between me and Steve. I smile at Rich to thank him, he nods slightly and I know that he gets it. Steve finishes his fag and walks away. I breathe a sigh of relief and then audibly thank Rich for being there.
“Your timing rocks” I say chuckling slightly.



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i am very aware that this is not finished but is an ongoing work but i wish to get feedback to see if its actually any good, i am aware that my grammer is rather poor as my be my spelling.
please leave comments and rate so i know if im on the right tracks.