Opening Story - 005

I wake up the next day with a headache, and for a moment no clue where I am. Then I realise the ceiling I'm staring at is the ceiling of my new place. My new… home.

I don't remember how I got back here. That girl… she must've dragged me back here. If I lost consciousness from the last point that I remember, then she must've walked all the way here with my unconscious body slung over her shoulder. I don't remember her being particularly strong looking, so it probably took her a long time. It would've been exhausting too.

I sit up and then I stand, and stretch. I'm halfway across the room, headed for the door, when I realise something startling that stops me.

I don't feel any pain.

Last I remember before I passed out, I was in so much pain that I could barely move. I seriously thought I might've broken something. Of course, I would understand if that weren't the case, and in the moment, I thought it was worse than it was, but that isn't what this is.

I rush out of my bedroom, and into the bathroom. I lift up my shirt, still stained a dirty red from my blood. I inspect every inch of my body.

There isn't a single bruise on my skin.

I take a step back. There's something strange about this. I could believe it if there were still bruises, but this… I can't understand. How can there not be a single mark left on me after last night?

This can't be possible. What am I, a vampire? How can I have come out of last night unscathed? Or rather, I know for certain that I didn't. I coughed up blood, I felt blood pooling under my head, I can still see my blood on my shirt.

Strange. It's possible that I'm misremembering things. But that doesn't make any sense either. Why would I be remembering things wrong? If I had hit my head, I would imagine that's a possibility, but like I said – there's not a single bruise, or any other visible injury, on my body. Including my head.

If there was someone else here that I could speak to that had been there, then perhaps I could get an explanation.

The girl.

I guess if I ever see her again, then I could ask her what had happened. But, anyway. For now, I should just be glad that I'm not as injured as I once thought that I was. That's definitely a positive. From what I remember, however, the girl seemed to think that I should probably go to the hospital. I guess she might've meant maybe just as a check-up, to make sure that I was definitely okay.

Sighing with relief, I make my way into the main room. The microwave (the only device I own that tells the time) shows that it's about eleven in the morning. I probably slept for at least ten hours. That doesn't matter though. I don't have work for another six hours, so I've got plenty of time.

Plenty of time to do what exactly?

Who knows? Whatever I feel like.

I don't have much in the way of food in the cupboards, so I might have to go out for breakfast. I'm also going to have to wash my uniform, I remember, realising the blood stains that cover it. That is… my blood isn't it?

I still can't shake the feeling that there's something unnatural about all of this. Something that makes me feel uneasy.

Just then I hear some movement behind me. From the couch. The couch is turned, facing away from the kitchen, but I can see someone's feet pointing off the edge. It's as if their sleeping. Whoever it is doesn't seem very threatening, but I still move cautiously as I creep over to see who it is.

It's a girl. Though I can't be sure, it's the girl from last night. I can't remember what she looks like that well. After all, it was dark, and the streetlights don't do much to help, but who else could it be?

Looking at her now, she's quite pretty. Her hair's a mousy brown colour that curls in on itself many times, as it falls down to rest around her shoulders. Her skin's quite pale, and almost completely unblemished. Only a few freckles adorn each of her cheeks, which are cute, more than anything else. Whilst she sleeps like that, it's hard to tell how old she is. I'm sure she's a teenager, but I can't tell whether she's younger or older than me.

I'm sixteen by the way.

Her eyes flutter open, and she blinks a few times before looking at me. She smiles, and her eyes (which I can now see are a cool grey colour) light up, as she speaks.

"I'm glad to see your better now."

Yes, that voice. I recognise it. She is, without a doubt, the girl from last night. The way she says that I look better now… I can only think that everything I remember happening is correct. But then, why don't I have any injuries?

"Were you watching me sleep?"

"N-no, I… I just realised you were here now," I can't help but feel embarrassed, so I lied a little, and changed the conversation.

"Thanks for bringing me back here."

"No, rather I should be the one thanking you. For saving me back there."

"I didn't do anything."

I didn't do anything. She wasn't saved by me. She was saved by that police officer showing up when they did. It probably wouldn't have mattered whether I got involved or not in the end.

"Even so, you saved me. If you hadn't fought with those guys, it might've already been too late when the policeman got there."

"Well, if you say so."

I'm still not convinced. I continue on, "what's your name?"

"Tayla. Tayla Faust. And you?"

"Alexander Acland," I blurt out my full name before thinking. I'm still not completely awake. I look at her to see if she recognises my last name.

"Hmm… Alexander. That's a very regal sounding name."

I guess I didn't need to worry.