What I Used To Know

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I freeze in fear, not daring to move. Afraid to breath. I can feel my face visibly pale. People may assume me to be cowardly, but I had every reason to be scared of the noise coming from my window. On the second story window.

There weren't any trees outside my fenestra, either. My throat is closed up; I can't even scream. There's only one thing I know of that could be outside my window. And it wasn't anything near good. I am too terrified to confirm my fears by looking up at my window.

Instead, I take a probably last glance around my room; at all I had grown accustomed to. Just when I think they've lost my trail, they catch up to me. It finally sinks in and I begin to panic. Breath floods my lungs and suddenly I'm almost hyperventilating.

I don't even get to say good-bye.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It's impatient now. For a moment I am tempted to run away, to bolt downstairs and sprint out the door. Maybe hide out at Mace's house for a while. But it'd only endanger the people I had come to know so well over these past few years.

Those people who now meant so much to me.

So instead, I force my breath as calm as possible, and look up into those hungry, blood red colored eyes. For a moment we simply stare at one another, each looking the other over. A creepy big-toothed grin spreads across his wicked face.

He utters only a single word, a word to send chills down my spine. "Tag." And then everything fades away.

I barely catch my last glimpse of what I had grown used to.


“Hey, you okay?” A strange boy with oddly colored hair asked from above me. He's way too close for my taste; his long neon green hair brushes against my cheek. And he has the most stupid grin on his face you can ever imagine.

Like he’s sharing some secret joke with himself, being in my face. “You’re the new girl, right?” He questioned, and his face disappears to be replaced with what I assume to be his large hand.

I ignore it and sit up on the ground. I’m on the side-walk pavement; I must have blacked out again. I cautiously feel the back of my head and wince.

“Hey, girl! You deaf or something?” He’s still wearing that stupid grin, which is more then anything what gets me into trouble.

“Why are you smiling? Am I that hilarious?” I snap at him, not answering any of his questions. His smile falters for a moment, giving me a kind of sick satisfaction. This guy was driving me insane, and I had barely known him for five minutes.

“No, I’m sorry.” He apologizes. I’m stunned by his sincerity. This guy is crazy! But in a moment he’s back with his stupid grin. “You can call me Mace, since everyone else does. What’s your name?”

“It’s none of your business.” I snort, finally managing to gain control of my feet and stand up half-steadily. “Listen, fun chatting and all, but I have to go.” I lie easily. This guy is too freaky to hang around.

As I walk off, Mace calls after me. “See you tomorrow, None-of-your-business!”

I give him the finger without turning around. I can only hear laughter sprouting from his admittedly cute lips.

As promised, I see Mace on my way home the next day. I hadn’t bothered to ask my latest pair of temporarily foster parents about the guy with the green hair, so I still didn’t know who he was.

Which also meant I was a little more then freaked when he started following me home, talking all the way. And believe me, no matter how many times I told him to “fuck off”, he just wouldn’t give up.

In fact, he even gave me the nickname “Babe.” To be fair, I decided to give him one, too. I deemed “Fuckhead” appropriate.

He started following me home everyday, even going so far as to stalk me in between classes and at lunch. Eventually I got so used to it, I expected it.

I would never tell him (it’d swell his ego too much), but I enjoyed all the attention he gave me, always acting like we were the best of buddies. I usually didn’t interact with people much; I was too scared to.

It took a year for me to realize how he actually felt about me.

“I love you.” He’d tell me everyday as he dropped me off at my house.

“Fuck off.” I’d reply monotonously. I knew it hurt him, but I couldn’t bare to even give him hope. I'd known I would eventually leave.

But I couldn’t force myself to pull away from the hugs, the caresses, the hand-holding. I couldn’t tell him no, even if I was always reminding him that I thought he was a fuckhead. It was so easy to lie, rather then to tell him the truth.


My eyes flash open, and I snarl as my inhuman half kicks in. I tug on the ropes binding me to no avail. It was all futile.

“He’s what we need to get you to work, isn’t he?” The voice sounds like scratching fingernails across a chalkboard, a dark night in a cemetery without a flashlight, and a thousand bats all wrapped into one. I cringe.

“No! Don’t involve Mace!” I growl angrily, struggling even harder then before as my eyes glare into my worst nightmare.

"I know your kind. You'll give in for your love."