The story so far:
The sky fell after college. She and I had been happily together for nearly three years. I ignored her murderous forays, hoping beyond hope that She would never get caught. I kept her secret too. I never told a soul, living or otherwise, that I was in love and dating a vampiress. I think that would have weirded too many people out.
Actually, as I remember it now, it was one week before our three year anniversary. I was anxiously anticipating the day, had been planning something She would hopefully never forget. Of course, I didn't take into account her immortal life span. Not that it mattered anyway. I never got to surprise her.
She came back to the apartment we shared, a slight blood moustache hovering over her upper lip. There was also blood on her hands and droplets down her shirt. I had never seen her like this. After all, She was the picture of organization. She had even organized our growing DVD collection alphabetically and by year (She always started to twitch when I tried to put our movies back into their proper places).
What happened? I wanted to ask her. I never got the chance.
"I have to go Jack." She didn't even look sorry to leave. She just packed a bag with a few essentials, namely shampoo, a change of clothes and some water. Not like she needed money or food. Her jedi mind trick would serve her in good stead there.
I was frozen. She has to go? Go where? Why? For how long? What did She do? Why? My mind kept returning to that simple question that almost never gets answered in any life. Why? I was still rooted in place, standing in the middle of the living room...actually, it was more of a living closet. We had a beat up loveseat and a small television set. Couldn't really call it a living room, but we all live by our own delusions.
So, I was still standing there with a dumb look on my face when She was about to ready to leave. She came up behind me and put her face next to my ear. I could feel the tip of one gorgeous canine against my earlobe.
"I'm sorry." And that's all She wrote.
Sorry? SORRY?! For what? For not gorging on my fluids and having a sanguine snack to set her on the road? For completely destroying my illusion of happiness that I had lovingly maintained for three years? For being a vampire? Devastated does not even begin to cover the feelings of loss and regret I was feeling.
I watched as She opened our off-white front door, some paint chips from the door frame flaking off to drift gently onto her black striped pants, watched as she dropped her key on the floor inside the apartment. I gazed for seemingly the last time as her pulchritudinous blonde hair swayed behind her. Her shoulders were back, but weren't tense.
I knew this woman. I could read her. And what I was reading now scarred me, left me blind. She didn't even feel bad about what She was doing! How could that be? Three years meant nothing to her?
As I remember that night, three years probably didn't mean much to her. After all, She is a vampire. Three years is but a brief moment in an immortal life. I just hope that She doesn't forget that moment, carries it with her everywhere. It is the only remaining thread connecting us.
At least it better be. I'm following that thread. Now it's my turn. But dear God why?