the taste of a memory.

A short story/chapter about a boy who is recalling the event that made him what he is.

 

BLOOD AND KISSES.

 

1, the taste of a memory.

Hunger gnawed viciously at my stomach, once again summoning a violent growl that clearly demanded sustenance. No. I clenched my abdominal muscles, curling my belly into my ribs and attempting to ignore it. I refused to eat. There was no way that I was going to succumb to such an urge.

            Another hunger pain stabbed into my flesh, and I lowered an arm to wrap it around my girth in an attempt to soothe the discomfort. It helped, yes, but only for a short while. Soon enough another agonizing rumble wrenched my organs about, causing me to bite my lower lip to try to distract myself. It didn’t work.

            The pain quickly became unbearable, and so, cursing under my breath, I stood. I hadn’t allowed myself to ingest that very thing which my stomach craved even once since that first night. Sure, I had tried to eat; I had nibbled on some foods such as bread and apples, but my body always ended up rejecting said delicacies and hurling them up in the toilet. My stomach yearned for only one thing at this point, and the thought of giving in to that craving made me feel slightly nauseous.

            I didn’t want to accept the truth. I wanted nothing more than to just starve to death at this point, and if it had been possible I would have accepted that fate without hesitation. If only.

            Growling softly to myself, I turned and stalked out of the living room. I couldn’t resist the hunger any longer; I wasn’t strong enough to do so. I had been defeated. My footsteps were almost silent as I padded into the kitchen, and with a spiritless sigh I opened the refrigerator door. There, sitting beside various foods that I would never get the chance to enjoy, was a milk carton filled halfway with a deep scarlet liquid.

            Ew. My expression hardened into one of distaste, but nevertheless I reached forward and grabbed the container. I’d already bought the drink, but an intense guilt still managed to flare up inside me and make me reconsider for a second. I paused, unsure of what to do, but when my stomach yet again bellowed I proceeded to pour some of the red liquid into a cup and pop it into the microwave. I punched in an appropriate time, shut the door to the device, and watched the glass plate slowly spin the cup in circles.

            Beeeep!

            Pulling out the cup, I lowered my eyes onto the thick, bubbling crimson liquid that rested within and grimaced. I had to drink it...I had no choice. Without it, I would only continue to suffer the agonies of a thirst that ceased to be satisfied by anything else. I wouldn’t die; I would simply exist in eternal torment.

            Lifting the cup to my lips, I poured the liquid into my mouth and was met with the unmistakable taste of iron and copper. I swallowed. As much as I hated to admit it, the drink was extremely delicious and I couldn’t help but feel the beginning of a smile twitch its way onto my mouth. Gulp by gulp I drank, until the entire glass was void of liquid and my mind was becoming cloudy as my instincts attempted to take over.

            No!

            I beat back the odd sensation, returning to myself and slumping against a nearby wall. I felt ashamed, angry, and pathetic. Why did this have to happen to me? I hadn’t done anything to deserve it. All I had done was go to a park to reflect on life…I hadn’t expected anyone else to be there. I hadn’t even thought anything of it at first when he – no, it – had first approached me. That had turned out to be a fatal mistake.

 

~*~*~

 

            The sky was dark and spattered with stars, completely void of even the smallest hint of cloud. An icy chill lingered in the air and frosted the plants, but still I chose to venture outside. I wanted to think about where to go with my life, since I had graduated high school not too long ago, and the stuffy heat of indoors was preventing me from concentrating. The warmth tended to cast a certain lassitude on me, and I figured that the wintery weather outside would be much more awakening.

            I was right. As soon as I stepped out into the open and inhaled that first breath of chilly air, I felt alert. I wandered along the barren streets in no particular direction, and soon enough I found myself strolling into the park where I had spent so many hours of my childhood. The memories were comforting.

            I drifted toward the swing set and sat down, watching as the moon illuminated the little white puffs of breath that I continued to exhale. My mind was busy making its way toward planning my future, but it never got too far due to the voice that suddenly cut it short.

            “What’s a kid like you doing out here all by himself? On such a cold night, too.”

            The voice startled me, and with a quick jerk of my head I turned to see a boy hardly older than me leaning against a nearby tree. He was dressed in only jeans and a t-shirt despite the temperature, and for a moment I questioned his sanity.

            “You’re no more than a kid yourself,” I pointed out calmly, sensing no threat from the situation. The other male’s lips curled into a smile.

            “Maybe,” he said, and then he looked away as if he’d lost interest.

            I arched a brow and watched him. Why was he out here, anyway? Had he also come to think about life? Did he just like the cold? I decided it didn’t matter.

            Pushing all thoughts and questions about the stranger to the back of my head, I lifted my gaze to the stars and focused once more on myself. College was definitely the path my parents wanted me to follow, but I wasn’t convinced that further education struck my fancy. I’d already struggled through fourteen years of school, including preschool and kindergarten.

            Lost in my own head, I hardly noticed when the stranger drifted closer and took the seat next to me. Instead, it was the gentle creak of the swing’s chain that attracted my attention again.

            “What?” I asked him with a slight amount of bitterness coating my words, feeling a bit uneasy at the fact that he was staring at me.

            “Nothing.” His gaze left my own for a minute, but it seemed that he wasn’t ready to leave me alone quite yet. “So, what are you doing out here, anyway?”

             “Wanted to be alone, I guess,” I muttered with a shrug. Already I was thinking about going home, or at the very least finding some other place to sit and think. Having a conversation with someone I neither knew nor cared to know wasn’t exactly the most alluring idea at the moment.

            “Ah. Something on your mind?” His question was innocent enough, but it still managed to bother me.

            “Maybe there is, but I have no desire to tell you. I don’t even know you.” This time, my words were a tad sharper. I wanted him to get the hint and keep to himself.

            “Do you want to know me?” A grin accompanied his question, and he returned his icy blue gaze back to me.

            “No.” I stated bluntly, and looked back at the sky.

            “Well,” the stranger continued, “that’s fine.” There was a short pause, and then he just went on talking again. “There’s something on my mind, y’know.” His tone hinted that he wanted me to inquire as to what, and I decided to oblige in hopes that he would leave after telling me whatever it was that he was itching to say.

            “What?” I asked blandly.

            I heard the stranger stand and he took a step closer to me, causing me to lift my eyes and cast him a curious expression. Maybe he was going to leave after all.

            “I’m hungry,” he explained, and before I could even wonder what he was talking about I felt a sharp, acidic pain slice into my neck and felt myself trapped in his grasp.

 

~*~*~

 

            I shifted my position, looking down at the empty glass that I still held in my hand and the remnants of the blood that had been inside it.

That boy…he had turned me into a monster.

 

Author's Note

critique please. don't worry about sounding too mean -- I want to be able to improve my writing and so constructive criticism is appreciated and sought after. <3

Reviews

[WriterMe]

Blood. That one word says Vampires. Haha, despite the Twilight crazy, I am all up for Vampire stories. Even thought I hate the book. -_-
Anyway, again the fear, hunger, and many other emotions in the piece were very well written. Which frankly is pretty hard to do. You cant completely explain if the protagonist is hungry or scared and for the reader to actually 'feel' it. But i think you have done an excellent job in both.
oh, and you should totally give Stephanie Meyer writing lessons =]

--Niki

[-Serene Heaven-]

The story was very well written. No errors seemed to jump out at me as I read it, and I enjoyed your writing style. It's very detailed in a way that it doesn't slap someone in the face screaming "HEY! PAY ATTENTION!" but a subtle poke saying "Enjoy me, please".

I was actually hoping at one point that you could continue on with it in some way. Perhaps make a three part series about three characters that were turned by the same Vamp. It could all join up in a fourth bit, but that's just my opinion. If you possibly find a way to make it longer or something, we would all benefit.

The style is definitely something that has influenced my mind. I see what you mean about realistic dialogue. It feels real. Like I'm there.

Keep it up, Cy.

[G]

This was a pretty good story, imo. The subject matter really isn't my style, but it has a good plot none the less. Hopefully you'll be turning this into a longer story, deepening the plot and developing the characters more. All in all, good job!