Yeah . . . This was written as a school assignment, and it wasn't supposed to be longer than a page . . . Oops . . . Anyways, comments would be fantastic to tell me how bad it sucks! =) thanks for reading my crappy story written in twenty minutes!
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"No way," I gasped, unable to conceal my excitment.
"Yes way," Alex chortled, "I saw the acceptance letter with my own two eyes. You're going to NYU, just like you always wanted!"
Squealing, I threw my arms around his neck.
"Thanks, man," I whispered into the hollow between his chin and his shoulder. "I couldn't have done this without you."
"It was no problem," He murmured into my hair. "You are my best friend, and you do deserve this."
He procceeded to kiss the top of my head and wrap his arms tightly around my shoulders. I thought I was in Heaven.
Those were the days when we loved each other more than anything in the world. When there really was no line between "best friends" and "boyfriend/girlfriend" for us. The days before he killed Mom.
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Every time someone stepped up to shake my hand or give me a quick hug, I grew more silent. Most of them whispered things like, "It'll all be okay," or, "She was a fantastic person," as they passed. I hated them all. Every idiot who tried to comfort me I looked away from, cursing them without a word
Those who tried to tell me that they knew how I felt I outright despised. It wasn't their mother lying in that coffin. They hadn't had to watch her die. They had no idea how I felt. They had no clue what it was like . . .
A sudden lack of noise jarred me out of my internal rant. Everyone was gone from the somber funeral home except for myself and my dead mom. Or so I thought.
He stepped casually out of the shadows as if he'd been there all along and mused, "You know, I think she looks better dead."
"Go away, Alex," I spat. As if he hadn't already done enough.
"If I go away," he hissed, "You'll tell everyone what I am and what I did. We can't have that, now, can we?"
Slowly making my way to the far wall - away from him - I calmly stated, "If I told, no one would believe me. They'd think I'm insane."
He smiled, revealing two even rows of teeth, and lunged. I knew what was going to happen next. He would disappear, only to show up on the other side of the room, then vanish again and appear somewhere else. He would do this over and over until he popped up behind me, and then I would be done for.
Still backing up, I called, "What's with the games, murderer? Why don't you just take me down now, quick and easy, and be done with it?"
Suddenly he was standing in front of me with his hand on my shoulder. The creepy smile got wider as he said each word;
"Because I like to play games, my dear Katharynn."
Fear flooded my brain as he moved his hand to my throat and whispered, "I wonder how long it would take you to bleed to death . . ."
"Just long enough for me to scream and the people who work here to come running in."
He smirked and tightened his grip so I couldn't breath.
"And if I strangled you?"
Just as my vision started to fade, he released me.
"No blood?" I gasped. "What fun would that be for you?"
"True," he laughed. "You know what? You get me. So, I don't think I'll kill you this time."
I stared into his icy blue eyes, trying to find the joke. He seemed to be telling the truth, though given his nature I wouldn't be surprised if it was all an act. I looked down and discreetly at the open door. Maybe, if I ran fast enough, I could-
He slammed me against the wall with one hand and clamped his other over my mouth. I felt something warm drip down the back of my head.
"Now, listen here," he growled. "You can't leave this place alive, and I don't want to kill you. I've grown to accept you in the past few years and I can't bring myself to do it. That gives me only one option."
He caught my gaze and I couldn't look away. For once tonight, they weren't the eyes of a cold-hearted killer, but those of my best friend. My mouth was uncovered and I started to say something, but he snarled and bared his teeth at me.
They weren't human any longer. No, his canines had grown to an unbelievable length and become pointed, and the rest of them had developed razor-sharp edges that could probably cut through steel.
I tried to scream, but couldn't. There was no point, anyway. He'd just kill whoever came to my aid.
"Sweet dreams," he hissed, and buried his fangs into my throat.
Long story short, the pain seemed to go on forever, but it stopped eventually. He waited until I slumped to the ground to say anything.
"You can't tell anyone now, because it's your secret, too."
I could tell just from his voice that he was very pleased with himself.
The first thing I'll do when I wake up, I resolved, Is find a really sharp stick, and stake that idiot through the heart.
Then, I blacked out.
