Life and Love of the Undead

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         If I were to recount the story of my teenage years to you, first I'd tell you about Dill. Dill, Dill, Dill. An interesting little guy. He had curly blonde hair, wire-rimmed glasses, blue eyes, and always wore khaki pants. He had a funny Irish accent, and all of the guys in my 8th grade class would make fun of him. He would always cry when they said mean shit, and I felt pretty damn bad for the poor kid. He lived down the street from me, and whenever my friends and I were walking around the neighborhood and saw him, they'd yell, "HEY, DILL!", just to piss the damn boy off. I swear, my friends were assholes then. Some of them still are, but I don't talk to them as much. I have better people in my life now. Some of them magically (or so it seemed) turned nice after years of torturing Dill. I'm sure in the end, they realized that it paid off not to be an asshole, and good ol' Dill was grateful for that. Why exactly am I telling you about this random kid named Dill? Because. He may not play a key role in this story, but it just goes to show you what assholes teenagers these days are.
         But there was something about Dill, something different. I'd only see him walking around at night, and in school, he'd never go outside. Only later I would realize that he was a vampire, one of my own kind.
         Though some of us aren't as bad as others, we're all a bunch of petty little assholes. That's just what we are. It's the nature of the teenager. Though I hated seeing other's cry and bitch, I couldn't help but take part in it. But even worse than taking part in this cruel behavior, I did nothing to stop it. I secretly loved the taste of other's agony.
         Petty, cruel behavior, love, hate, friendship, drugs, sex, morals (which I never seemed to have). Back when I was a teenager, the world seemed all too big to me. So many frightening concepts I didn't dare to explore until it felt as if I HAD to. Drugs, for example. I used to have a major drug problem, but only after being begged by friends to try some. Oxycodone, it was. Tried the shit in 10th grade and got hooked. It seemed to take away the pain of everyday living. The pain of being human. I always wanted some sort of escape out of the human life. I looked up to the people that seemed to be able to cheat life, trick it almost - the drug dealers, hookers, anyone who did shit like that just to get by was a worthy human being in my eye. Why my opinions were so twisted like this, I don't know. But they were.          Then one day in 11th grade, I found the ultimate way to cheat life. Not by dealing or prostituting myself, but by becoming a vampire. Yes, a vampire. The life of the undead is a worthy one. I remember it as if it were yesterday.
          How much do you want for this shit?" I asked Hellsa, my regular dealer.
         "Just one thing. Let me bite your neck. Don't ask why unless you plan on becoming entirely involved in a culture so different from your own," Hellsa warned. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was immediately intrigued.
         "What the hell are you talking about?" I asked Hellsa.
         "I'm a vampire," she said. "I suck your blood, you become one too. But I can teach you. I just need blood. Please. I'm so hungry. Please, please, Lyllia, please," she begged me. My head was spinning. Vampire? What? I didn't know what or who to believe, but it was rather hard to believe at all.
         "Lyllia, I haven't had blood in over a week, I'm going to die, please, it's quite lovely once you get used to it, please, please, I can teach you, you can learn the ways of the creatures of the night... Lyllia, you'll never have to worry again. You can do as many drugs as you want. You won't die. You'll never die. You'll have eternal life,"
         "I'll fucking do it if you sit down and tell me what the hell is going on," I finally said.
         "Fine. Fine," Hellsa answered. "I know I must have shocked you. You aren't supposed to know I'm a vampire. If you went and told people, I'd have to kill you. I'm not even kidding. I've done it before," My eyes got wide when she said this. "But I don't want to do that to you. I want you to live. However, I will not hesitate to drain you of all life if you do tell people," she warned. "And I need that life. I need it right now. The most I've heard a vampire has survived without blood is two weeks. I'm at one week. I could very well die. And vampires aren't supposed to die! How fucking embarrassing that would be, right? Right. So you must help me. Please."
         "I'll live forever?" I asked, shocked at all of this sudden knowledge, my head still spinning.
         "Yes. As long as you don't fuck up. You need blood though. You need it to live."
         "I know what you're getting at. I know you need my blood. Fine, I'll do it. I promise. I'll do it right now, even. I'm up for anything. I have nothing at all to lose," I was rationalizing what I was about to do. I rationalize a lot; maybe I shouldn't. It's pretty damn bad for me. But it's just the way I am.
         "Okay. Are you ready?" asked Hellsa. This all seemed so sudden to me, but like I said, I was up for anything. I just wanted out of this mediocre life that was mine; the life of a drug addict.
         "Yes," I answered, quite nervous.
         "Alright," she said, grabbing hold of my neck and sinking her long, smooth teeth into my neck. It hurt. A lot. But I was used to pain. Any type of pain, really, I'm used to. Abusive relationships, self-harm issues... I've had 'em all. So it wasn't too bad. She started lapping up my blood, and I felt as if I wanted to throw up. I was disgusting, yet so fascinating at the same time. I just wanted to know more about the vampire world, about this new, completely different lifestyle other than my own, and I wanted to be part of it.