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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Supernatural · #1377700
A person thinks about his/her relationship with his/her mentor. Contains vampires!
                                    And So I Drink by never.noticed

"Be willing to give up what you are for what you can become."

         It was quiet. That was one of the things I could remember about that day. The air was thick and the ground was frozen without the white sheet of snow to cover it beneath my feet. The sky was grey, drab, and almost as sad as my still-beating heart.
         
         Black was the way your eyes gleamed; flamboyant, darkening as irises amplify and widen in hunger. Each step you took brang me closer to an end (an end in which I would die and you'd be with me through shimmering webs and forests as deep and never-ending as your eyes). I stepped back; you smiled and advanced further.

         It was no joke, game or stupid dare, but a promise. I had promised I would be there to change and live forever at your side. It made me sick that this, the most foul and hasty promise I had ever made, was the only one I didn't have the courage to break. I remember a sharp pain that had flashed in my neck, through my body, to my head and into my mind whilst I shuddered and trembled against you as I changed into one of... you.

         You were a bully. Were and are. You are greedy, vain, pretentious, sneaky, mean, and so spiteful that you often made some young children cry. To you, tears were precious things, much more precious than one thousand dollar bills. You spend your tears carefully, but take pleasure in extracting them from others. But you're happy because you don't know there is any other way to be.

         I hated you. I detested you and people like you but I fell. For you of all people! I had this crazy idea that I would be the one to make you see that there is another way to be. A different way of life than the one you've lived for centuries. I thought that the way you live was just an institutional ideology and that I could change. I was wrong.

         I watch as you drink the red, salty blood from the woman sitting under you and I'm revolted. We take innocent lives every other night and it's sickening. I have always been against violence and murder but here I am doing both. You look at me, lick you're lips and wink. I look away.

         "Your turn," I here you say, and I have no choice but to feast. No, I'm not a cannibal. I'm not a human (anymore) and so it's just like a cat eating a mouse. I lean down and bite into her limp arm.

         I don't want to, oh God I would never actually want to but, I must. If I'm going to stay by your side I have to. My family died off decades ago and my friends have forgotten about me and my sudden disapearance. I'm stuck to you like glue. The funny thing? I want to be. If I lost you I would have no one and my heart would be shattered into one million pieces.

         And so I drink. I drink in hunger, I drink for life, and most of of all, I drink for you.

                                                          The End.
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