Days in the Sun
September 18th, 2020 – Diary (2)
I hate diaries.
I know Lisa and Joyce Anne both have one, I suspect Mom does, and Dad’s black journal is kind of a diary, even if he writes about stuff that took places years and years ago. So, it looks like I’m the last one in the family starting a diary.
I’m not sure why I never wrote anything about myself before. It might have to do with thinking that diaries were just a girl’s thing. Or maybe I just never had anything worth telling before. Or… or I was afraid someone would find what I wrote, read it, make fun of me. Yeah, I sneaked into Lisa’s private thoughts when I was younger. Found her diary, read it from cover to cover, and, foolishly, bragged about it.
At the time, I couldn’t understand why she would put down on paper where anyone could read it some of the intimate thoughts she had written. Stuff about her best friends, about a guy she had a crush on, and silly things like that, silly thing that teenagers think are so important.
Today, I understand.
I understand why someone would feel the need to take a pen and just let it run on a piece of paper. Just let their thoughts run out. I understand why even the best friend’s ear might not always be enough. I understand that sometimes, a white sheet of paper, or a blank computer screen, can be better than someone who can actually understand your words, and reply to them. Sometimes it’s not so much about telling someone as it is about telling.
I need to write, tonight, but I don’t need an answer to what I’m writing. I just need to see my thoughts, black on white, without any exterior comment added to them. Just need to empty my mind of everything that happened, so that I can examine it, later, when I’m calmer, when I can truly analyze what happened.
A couple of hours ago, I dusted my first vampire.
Hell, I’ve been living with the thought all my life, but it still feels strange even now when I stop and think about it for an instant. Yes, vampires exist. Not only that, but I am… I’m not sure what I am. I can walk in the brightest sunlight, can touch holy water or a cross without harm, and don’t need blood to survive. And yet…
And yet, I’m not completely human. I asked Dad, a few months back, what I was, and he couldn’t tell me. Not a vampire, not human. Something in between. I think I found out tonight. I’m a Slayer.
And just that in itself is almost funny, because Slayers are supposed to be girls.
It’s just all so weird…
Sarah and I were coming back from a movie tonight when we heard a shout. At first, I thought that someone was being mugged, and I did something very stupid. I actually went to the help of whoever was screaming. Best way to get myself killed, that. I’m not that impulsive, usually. Any other time I would have dialed 911 on my cell phone, would have shouted in the alley that cops were on their way, but without actually stepping any closer. And yet tonight, I did.
I don’t know why. It was like something was calling me, like a beacon drawing me closer. I only realized that it was a vamp when I got close enough to disturb him. He let go of his prey, turned to me, and he was quite a sight, with his game face on and blood staining his lips and chin. I’m not so sure what happened next. I just know that within seconds he was dust, and I was puking over his remains. Talk about a hero…
Sarah wasn’t happy with me. She yelled at me, said I could have gotten myself killed, and that I was an idiot. I came back to my dorm alone. My roommate is out for the weekend, and I’m by myself. I feel like talking to someone, anyone, but Sarah made it clear that she was upset, and I doubt she’d listen to me right now. I wish…
I wish Lisa was here. I think I could talk to her, if she was. She’s like me, not human, not a vamp, and… I wonder if she ever staked a vamp before. I wonder if she even ever thought about it. We never actually talked about it. Dad’s the only one with whom I ever really touched the subject, and it wasn’t much at all. I wish I could talk to him about it, but he would worry so much… no, I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.
And God only knows how much I wish I could.
William