Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 5

 

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5: Puzzle Freak

The first thing I noticed as I stepped from my yard into theirs was the absence of noise. It was like I had stepped into a vacuum, where even sound was afraid of being this close to vampires. I couldn’t hear the light breeze through the trees, though I could see them swaying. No birds, no creature made a sound on this property, and I have to admit it made me a little nervous.

Still, I went up the front porch steps and raised my hand to knock. I hesitated, wondering what I thought I was doing. I had just gotten home from school. What little make up I started the day off with was now gone, my hair was a mess, and I was in jeans and t-shirt; not exactly following the ‘how to meet hot guys’ guidelines. I shrugged and knocked anyway. For a moment it didn’t make a sound, and I thought maybe I should just give this up, but then I heard the noise of my knuckles rapping the door. No matter that it came about thirty seconds after I actually knocked. I listened close, hoping to hear footsteps or a voice telling me, “wait a minute, I’m coming.” Anything to tell me there were no vampires here; that I had been wrong. But no one came. I debated whether to knock louder, and in the end I decided to try the door handle myself.

I put my hand on the door and it was ice cold. Perhaps the AC was running overtime in there, but I didn’t think so. There were no window units and I didn’t see central air units outside anywhere. I tried the knob but it was locked. I decided to go around back, maybe knock there.

The backyard was spacious with a concrete patio and in-ground pool. A row of hedges lined a back fence that separated our properties, but the shrubs were barren, and sure enough I could see mom lying out in her bikini in our back yard. I could tell by the rise and fall of her breasts that she had fallen asleep as usual. Part of me wanted to scream her name just to see how drunk she was, but before I could I saw I wasn’t alone on this side of the hedge. A man was sitting at a glass topped table on the patio working a jigsaw puzzle. A large umbrella was mounted in the center of the table, shielding him from the bulk of the sun’s rays. He didn’t seem to notice me at first, but when he did, his head came up so slow it made me think of those old automaton gypsy fortune telling machines they had at the fair when I was like nine. He stared at me with a curious look, his eyes dark and intense, half hidden by stringy black hair that hung down in his face. He tilted his head one way and then the other, before beckoning me to him. My head was screaming not to do it, but something bolder inside made me approach his table. He held up a puzzle piece and handed it towards me as if he wanted me to place it for him. His smooth pale skin made him seem almost unnatural, and I hesitated. With an impatient jerk of his hand he shoved the piece at me. I took it from him and looked down at the puzzle he was working on.

It was bizarre, like something out of a nightmare. The unfinished image clearly suggested a view of hell, with writhing, tormented bodies, some entwined in reckless abandon, others twisting in the talons of demonic figures. At the center, a tall dark presence drank the blood of several people at once, all of them held fast in his gaze and grip. Where the puzzle piece was missing there was a young girl about the same age as myself . Her body was turned towards the terrifying figure, and she must have been looking up at him rapturously, but she didn’t have a head. It was the missing piece.

I looked in my hand and turned it over. Sure enough, the piece I held was the girl’s head, and looking at it I saw in her eyes a look of adoration and helplessness. I looked at the man behind the card table. His Asian eyes held no malice, but something within told me this guy did not wish good things to befall me. A slight sneer crossed his thin lips. His mouth began to open. He made a sound in his throat but it wasn’t speech. It was a guttural kind of moan and his lips seemed to curl back to show me the only teeth he had were two pairs of fangs. His sneer turned into the scariest smile I had ever seen. I dropped the puzzle piece and bolted.

I ran across the yard and to my front door as if the devil were on my heels. I didn’t even bother with my book bag. I slammed the door behind me and threw the deadlock in place. I kept waiting to hear the man’s body slam into the solid oak of the doorframe, but he never did. I wasn’t even sure if he got up from the table. I didn’t care to look back. I’d been too freaked out.

I went through the dining room towards the back of the house. Looking out onto our patio, I saw mom was still sleeping one off. The guy next door was nowhere to be seen, but his macabre puzzle was still on the table. Thinking he was on his way over, I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room; my dad’s vampire kit laid out and open on the bed. If anyone came through that door they were going to get hit with a one two punch of holy water and wooden stake. But no one came. I sat on the bed as the night began to fall. I heard mom come in and rumble around in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if she was fixing dinner or a new drink, but I wasn’t about to come out my room to find out. I was waiting for pitch dark so I could go stake that puzzle working, blood sucking freak.

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D. Aronson. All Rights Reserved.

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Vampire Boys Of Summer (Revamped) Ep. 4

Vampire Boys Of Summer (Re-vamped)

Episode 4: Nora’s Rumour

I rode Angela’s bus home. Even after skipping sixth period, she was still pissed about the Trumps, and like always, the conversation was along the lines of “I should have kicked her ass” or “if she does that again, I’m going to stomp her.” Of course, both of us knew that was just big talk. You couldn’t just go up and punch Amanda without fighting the rest of them too. And even if you did manage to take them all on and beat them, your glory wouldn’t last long. In fact, they would do their best to turn it into humiliation. That’s what they did to me earlier in the year when I had a run-in with Chrissy. So I told her on the ride home it was best to leave it alone. Angela may have talked big but she understood.

“Well anyway, thanks for catching me. You’re always there for me.”

I smiled. “You’d do the same thing for me.”

“You never did tell me the anime.”

“What?”

“Your drawing. What anime the guy was from.”

“Oh that,“ I laughed. “You just don’t let it go, do you?”

“Nope.”

“It’s a new one.”

“Okay, so what’s it called?”

I knew I couldn’t keep this up for long. I had no choice. “It’s called, I have a hot new neighbor.”

Her eyes grew wide as saucers. “No shit? You’re kidding me.”

“I just caught a glimpse of him last night. I made up most of the picture because I couldn’t see him very clearly.”

Her eyes got even wider. “Were you peeking in his window, perv?”

“No, he was on the back porch staring up into the sky.”

“Well hell, I’ll come over and keep him grounded if you won’t.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I bet you would.”

“You going to talk to him?”

“I don’t know,“ I said. “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see? What’s wrong with you? Everybody at school already thinks you’re gay. Get the hook up and prove them wrong.”

Leave it to Angela to downplay her Trumps incident by referring to mine. It was the first party of the school year. Earlier that week I had called Chrissy Trump a skanky bitch after she tripped me up in the cafeteria. A girl at the party that I didn’t even know came up to me to say she thought that was the coolest thing ever and she wanted to talk to me outside. I didn’t think anything of it and went outside with her. Next thing I knew she had shoved me into the pool and dived in after me. As I came up out of the water she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. It all happened so fast and I was gasping for breath so it was easy for her to take advantage. Before I could get away, The Trumps had appeared with their cell phone cameras going in rapid mode. I shoved the girl away from me but it was too late. Next day it was all over Facebook, Instagram, and twitter; me all wet and wild-eyed with some girl shoving her tongue down my throat.

“You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?” I said to Angela as we got off at her bus stop. “You know that was a set up.”

“Yes I know. But the fact remains everyone thinks you don’t like boys. And you have never had a steady boyfriend, unless you count Charlie Simkins back in the seventh grade.”

“You want to get slugged, don’t you? None of that was my fault.”

“Okay, so prove everyone wrong. Hit on your hot neighbor.”

I knew this was her way of daring me, but knowing Angela, I also knew this was a way for her to position herself if I failed. I wasn’t about to tell her I thought he was a vampire. She’d probably try to bite him back. I sighed. “Look, I’ll introduce myself and we’ll see what happens.”

“What do you mean, see what happens? “

“It means, I’m not going to throw myself at him like some lovesick fool I know.”

“I’m not lovesick, just desperate. Which is what you should be. Tomorrow I’ll be expecting to hear his name. I bet it’s something sexy like Ryan or Tatum. Or better yet Gray. Omg.”

With that she nearly danced up her sidewalk to the front door. “Don’t count on it,” I muttered, wondering what in the hell I’d gotten myself into.

The walk home from Angela’s was about two miles. It usually took about an hour, but this time I went a little slower. I needed to unwind and think things through. To rise to Angela’s challenge would mean it would have to be tonight. If I drug my feet she’d give me hell when I didn’t give her his name next time I saw her. I berated myself for even trying to please her. If I went over to meet this guy it needed to be on my terms not hers. And again, she didn’t suspect what I did. She wouldn’t be the one who would have to kill the bloodsucker. Damn it, why was life so complicated? Why couldn’t I just meet a guy I liked and not have to kill him? I was jumping ahead of myself I knew. Chances are he wouldn’t be friendly, or perhaps he didn’t like girls, or just flat out didn’t like me. By the time I got home, I had already convinced myself my whole life was a disaster and always would be.

The sun was just starting to set as I threw my book bag on the front porch. There was still plenty of light out and if I was going to wait for the boy next door to come outside I might be waiting awhile. I could go inside my house and read my latest Manga acquisition, or perhaps watch some Netflix, or just sit on the porch and wait for the undead. Or I could be bold and go over right now and knock on the door. If he was a vampire, he wouldn’t answer, unless he had one of them human caretakers to protect his resting place in the daylight hours. In that case, I would just have some slobbering Renfield to fend off. If that happened, I could just holler for mom. She was probably sunbathing in the backyard with a vodka in her hand anyway.

I looked over to the house next door. I didn’t detect any movement in the yard or behind its drawn curtains. “Oh to hell with it,“ I mumbled, and headed across the lawn.

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D Aronson. All Rights Reserved.

Continue to Episode 5

Vampire Boys Of Summer (Revamped) Ep. 3

Missed an episode? Find your place on Vampire Boys Of Summer (Re-vamped) Main Page

 

3: Tramps & Trumps

“Out of the way, sluts,” said several girls at once. We knew this wasn’t like our playful banter, this was The Trumps. Every school has a trio like them. The prima donna divas of the school hall. You can always spot them by their haughty, self assured walk, or the way their expensive clothes set the weekly trends of high school fashion. They always play with their hair in class, flipping it back and forth to be noticed, whether it is blond, ginger, or brown this week. And with one look they can stop a conversation or create a new one that everyone wants to hear. Girls either fear them or want to be part of their clique. Boys want to sleep with them, or at the very least, get to second base, which I’m told is pretty automatic. If you are good looking enough to get a date, it’s not going to be a wasted night.

We called them The Trumps because they acted like the rich elite of the whole school. Seeing themselves as Goddesses or something, they made like they were better than everyone else, and if anyone, boy or girl, went against them, the retaliation was vicious. Bullying was an art with The Trumps. In fact, rumor had it Amanda Trump had bullied Samantha Connor into attempting suicide last year. Sam’s only crime had been that she had unsightly burns from a house fire on the right side of her face and arm, which meant just about everybody could pick on her and get away with it. In addition, she had bright red hair, which just added to the ridicule as everyone teased her with the name “firestarter.” Amanda Trump of course, with not a sympathetic thought for anyone, went a little further and tried to set her on fire every time she saw her in the hall. When Samantha walked by, she’d run up behind her, flicking a lighter and attempting to ignite her clothes. On the outside, the girl seemed to ignore the taunting, but apparently it wasn’t like that on the inside. One night Samantha Connor took an overdose of sleeping pills and set her bedroom on fire. Maybe she thought she was just finishing the job the fire should have done years ago, but she survived the attempt and her parents promptly moved the family far away, claiming the school officials dragged its feet on the bullying issue. But since Amanda’s mom was on the school board, and no one could prove Samantha’s attempt was a result of being harassed by a student or students, everything was swept under the rug. Personally, I think Amanda should have been beaten with the rug.

The other Trumps, Chrissie and Kari, were actually cousins and they absolutely hated anyone that Amanda told them to, which at that moment in time happened to be Angela. It wasn’t her fault; just like Samantha Connor, she just happened to be the wrong person in this life. And she also happened to be the ex-girlfriend of Amanda’s current boy toy, Devin McCullough. What was silly about that was that Devin and Angela had been going together in the sixth grade and that was like four years ago. You would think if Angela still wanted him she would have made her move by now. Of course, try to explain that to The Trumps.

After shoving Angela into me, Amanda, with a self assured flip of her strawberry blond hair, gave her a look that said, “I dare you to say something.” I helped my friend steady herself as the girls passed by. Chrissie and Kari, both mimicking Amanda with a similar toss of the hair, snickered like the trained monkeys they were. You have seen this very scene in teen movies since the dawn of time, and if you think its all make believe, you’re wrong. This happens all the time. And unlike the movies there would be no one riding in to save the day. There were no heroes here, just cowards and villains. As if to prove that point, Colin Deeds, the biggest coward of Chelsea Valley, came up to us and handed Angela her math book, which she had dropped.

“You shouldn’t tangle with them,” he said, trying to sound like he was offering solid advice. But like Samantha, Colin was one of those kids whom no one seemed to associate with, or even wanted to. He had unkempt, greasy brown hair. Acne dotted his face, marking his cheeks and planting one unsightly pimple on the side of his nose. His clothes were always mismatched, nothing going together, not even the color of his socks, which you could see because he wore his pants so high. If there was a nerdiest geek in school, Colin was it.

Because of this, I gave him a look one reserves for an irritating gnat that has managed to reach places you’d rather they hadn’t.

“What do you know?” I said and jerked the book out of his hands.

Angela was still embarrassed from the push Amanda had given her, but I knew it was an even bigger embarrassment knowing a nerd boy like Colin had been witness to the whole event.

“What do you want, Colin?”

The boy looked at Angela and stammered out his answer. “I…I just wanted to help.”

“It would help if you’d get lost,” she said.

“Oh. Oh, okay.” He hung his head for a moment and started to walk away. He reminded me of a pup that had been beaten, but with the devotion of a pet, he looked up and said, “Have a nice summer vacation.” Then, he moved off down the hallway, his book bag slung over his shoulder, nervously running his fingers through his never combed hair.

As Angela and I started off in the opposite direction, I looked at her. “Maybe we shouldn’t have been so mean to him.”

She shook her head. “He’s a pest. He’s been crushing after me since grade school.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he lives right down the street from me. Sits outside on the curb waiting for me to come out. Rides his bike in the alley behind our house. He even buys me stuff and gets one of his nerd buddies to give it to me. I mean, some of it’s cool stuff, but I don’t like him like that, and I swear to God I never will.”

“Hey, no God swearing.”

“Oh. Forgot about your God thing.”

Angela knows I believe in God. She doesn’t put much stock in it though. It’s not something that affects our friendship. I just think she’s been taught not to believe by her parents and teachers alike. It’s that kind of world now and something we just don’t talk about.

As if to prove that, she changed the subject. “I don’t think I want to go to sixth period.”

Knowing that one of the Trumps was in that class, I didn’t blame her. But also knowing we couldn’t leave campus, I was at a loss. “What do you want to do then?” I asked.

“I got a couple smokes.”

I smiled. Her mom smoked these cocktail cigarettes she kept in this fancy flat box. They were rolled up in pretty colored paper and had a stronger scent than your usual blend. I think you were only supposed to smoke one, and then only with your favorite after dinner drink. We didn’t have any alcohol, but we did have a bathroom stall that had an air vent overhead to blow the pungent smoke up into. I knew I’d have to walk part of the way home just to get the smell off my clothes but that was okay. I was never in a hurry to get home most days anyway. But then again, most days up until now didn’t include trying to introduce yourself to the vampire next door.

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D. Aronson.

Keep Reading Episode 4

Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamp) Ep. 2

A/N: Since its New Year’s Day , I thought I’d celebrate with another episode from the new revamped serial version of “Vampire Boys Of Summer.” Episode 3 should arrive before the week is out 😉

Need to start from the beginning? Episode 1: Nora & Miyavi

Episode 2: Angela

There’s a saying that everything looks better in the morning. Whoever said that probably had someone special to wake up with, but in my world waking up just meant I was still here. It also made me remember the fact a vampire had moved in next door and needed to be dealt with. Lucky for him I wasn’t the vampire hunting professional of the family. That would be my dad, though I truly don’t think that he’s dispatched anyone either. Oh, he tried. Two years ago he was arrested for attacking the night clerk at Chandler’s, the local supermarket. He was convinced the guy was a vampire, but the Police didn’t think so. Now he sits in a psychiatric hospital looking out a lonely window in the same manner that I do, perfectly hopeless.

I fixed my usual breakfast; eggs over easy, two pieces of bacon, and coffee. I know a lot of my friends’ mothers fixed their breakfast for them, but I’d starve if I had to rely on mine. By the time I was off to school each morning, she was already three drinks into her day.

I ate quickly, barely tasting the food. I had overslept, thanks to Miyavi, who had kept scratching at the window for me to let him in and out all night. I sometimes wondered if that cat was a vampire himself, the way he slept all day and prowled all night. I’d had him since I was little. Dad had brought him home one day, telling me I needed a companion since I never went outside to play. He became more of my father’s cat though, sticking close to him and rubbing against his legs all hours of the day. When dad got locked up, Miyavi just gravitated to the next available person who would feed him. Me. This morning he ate pretty good, as I set my plate down on the kitchen floor and let him finish what was left.

I slung my school backpack over my shoulder. It was custom made, meaning I had taken my dad’s old military backpack and drawn on it with bright neon markers the names and logos of my favorite J-Rock bands: L’Arc En Ciel, Acid Black Cherry, Luna Sea. Only a few kids at my school knew who they were, but that was okay by me. I always prided myself on being different. I didn’t need to be marching to the beat of Taylor Swift or Maroon 5, when I had L’Arc En Ciel blaring “Ready Steady Go” in my earbuds every morning.

With my tunes in place, I stepped out into the morning sun. I glanced over at the house next door. It didn’t really look like anyone had moved in. For a moment I was tempted to skip school and investigate, but I thought better of it. My grades were bad enough; I didn’t need to make it any worse by cutting classes. Still, it was pretty tempting. I looked up to the second floor of the house. Directly across from my own second story window was a widow’s walk that encircled the whole house. A door on the walk led inside, perhaps to the attic or a bedroom. I entertained the notion of leaping from my windowsill to the tree that had scraped my window the night before and onto the neighbor’s widow’s walk. It was possible. It could be done, but one false move and I’d be cracked on the pavement. I shook my head at these thoughts and mumbled under my breath, “Get your ass to school.”

I turned my music up and the brisk, rock rhythm was just what I needed to catch the bus in time.

“Nora Williams,” the teacher called out, and I raised my hand to show my presence. Mr. Franks was a little old man with graying hair and black plastic framed glasses he wore so close to the end of his nose I often wondered if he could even see through the lenses. Still, he made a note of my raised hand and moved on to the next name on his list. This was fifth period English class one week before summer vacation, and even though it was the end of the school year I was still waiting for the inevitable; a new student who just happened to look like my new neighbor. But he never showed. And of course he wouldn’t; it’s daytime and he’s a vampire. Duh.

The image of him on his front porch staring up at the sky just wouldn’t leave me alone. While everyone else followed the teacher as he wrote our assignment out on the chalkboard, I found myself sketching a lonely, nocturnal figure in my notebook. Even though I didn’t get a close look the night before, I drew in the features anyway, or at least ones that hot vampire boys should have: piercing dark eyes, full pouting lips, slightly flushed cheeks. My drawing, and imagination, showed an average build on him. If I’d drawn him without the school uniform he would have been well built, but not too many rippling muscles. His shirt was parted just enough at the top so you could see his chest was hairless and his cute boy nip…just then, while I was contemplating nipples and navels, my bestie Angela, who sat next to me in almost every class, passed a note. I glanced over at her before opening the folded paper. I looked down at her handwritten scrawl. “OMG, who is that?” it read.

I grinned and shook my head, trying to let her know it was no one. Angela had known me since fourth grade so she knew I wasn’t being entirely truthful. She flicked her long blond hair out of her eyes and gave me a look that said, “confess.”

I guess I could have confided in her about the vampire boy next door, but if I was going to have to kill him I knew she’d try to talk me out of it just so she could flash her blue eyes at him and get his number. I don’t mean to give the impression that she’s boy crazy or anything, but the truth of the matter is…well, she is boy crazy, what can I say? It’s not like she’d steal your man or walk down the street in her bikini to make guys stop what they’re doing and stare. No, she was more like closet boy crazy. She tried to play it off as much as she could, but she reminded me of one of those construction worker guys who doesn’t say anything when a pretty girl walks by, but their heads turn and eyes follow their movements as if such a gaze would make the girl fall all over them. Angela was like that with all the hot boys. And now she was doing just that, focusing her gaze and trying to see what I was drawing. One would have thought she was waiting for him to leap off the page and say to her, “hey there, blondie.”

She made an impatient nod of her head to let me know she was waiting for me to tell her who it was. I pointed to my head to try and convince her it was all from my imagination. She gave me a smirk and turned in her seat away from me as if she were pouting and offended. I knew she wasn’t. She’d catch me the moment I was in the hall after class. And sure enough, that’s what she did.

“Okay, Give. Who is he, you tramp?” she demanded in a playful tone, grabbing hold of my arm as I exited the classroom.

I laughed. “Nobody, tramp. I made him up.”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, maybe not totally made up. I saw him on an anime.”

She gave me a curious look and I knew I had her. As much anime as I watch I’m bound to try drawing storyboards myself. After all, she had seen my room and all the sketches plastered on the wall.

“Damn,” she said, a little disappointed. “You drew him pretty damn fine. And if there’s an Asian boy at school, I want to know. They are crazy about blondes I heard.”

In Angela’s world everyone was mad for blondes. But at the moment the only one I was thinking of had been on the porch next door last night, and when I left school today I was going to march right over and find a way to introduce myself.

“So what was the anime?” She wasn’t being nosy, she just loved playing the question game. To prove this she launched right into “Was it on Crunchy roll? Funimation? Netflix?”

“Netflix.”

“Cool. Titans? Fairy Tail? Sword Art?”

“Nope.”

She put her finger to her chin as if to emphasize she was thinking this one out. “Rosario? Elfin? Ouran High School?”

Before I could answer, someone shoved Angela and she stumbled into me.

 

Ep. 3: Tramps & Trumps

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D. Aronson.

Missed an episode? Main page is here  Vampire Boys Of Summer (Re-vamped)

Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 1

A/N: Well, it’s a new year, so let’s go with another attempt at completing Vampire Boys Of Summer. 😉 We’ll just start from the beginning again. This version is re-vamped, which is to say it’s a new edit, with stuff added and the story restructured to be like a true serial. More chapters this time around, but they are shorter so they don’t take long to read. Look for regular episodes every week. Hope you enjoy! Okay Nora, tell us your story….

Episode 1: Nora & Miyavi

A vampire moved in next door to us this past summer. I knew he was a vamp right away because he was so unbelievably freaking hot. So hot it was almost unnatural. Kind of like those anime boys I watch online. You know the kind – so pretty most girls would throw themselves in traffic just to meet them. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect teeth, and beautifully bare chested through half the episode. Of course, I should mention that these boys usually hook up with perfect anime girls with cutesy faces, girly voices, and breasts so large you could carry your lunch tray on them. I was none of these, so I took one look at the vampire boy who was standing on his front porch looking up at the lonely night and said, “yeah, whatever.” Then I returned to the manga book I had been reading before I noticed him. Ironically, it just happened to be about vampires…

It was hard to concentrate on the book. Once you have seen a vampire they kind of stick in your head, even if you didn’t get a good look at them. With my face buried in the manga’s cute illustrations, I tried not to think of that shadowy figure out there on his porch, but I kept looking at my window, wondering if I was going to see him hovering outside the glass, saying “come on, invite me in.” I had never had a boy in my bedroom before and I certainly wasn’t going to start with some guy with sharp teeth and a lust for blood.

I had returned to reading the manga when I heard the scratching on the glass. Glancing towards the sound, I swore I saw something rake across the window. It seemed a fog had descended on our valley and it was all swirling outside my house. I got up from my bed and approached the thick mist that was gathering outside. I peered through the glass, squinting my eyes and trying to see. Something scraped the window again. To my surprise, or perhaps disappointment, it was nothing but my cat Miyavi trying to get in after a night on the prowl.

I sighed, “Oh, it’s you,” and opened the window to let the black tabby in. He came in easy enough, but looking past my temperamental pet I saw the vampire boy again. It looked like he hadn’t even moved. He was still staring up into the expanse of the night sky, and against this backdrop I noticed a few things about him.

First, he was thin and pale, unlike the boys at my school who all seemed to think they were the coolest thing since Nutella. Half of the guys seemed interested in showing off their muscles to each other instead of to the girls who made fools of themselves chasing after them. But this boy was no football star in the making; physique wise, he appeared to have more in common with the library nerds or science geeks.

Second thing I noticed was that his hair was blond and uncombed. Again, this set him apart from over half the people I knew. Everyone at Chelsea Valley High seemed obsessed with the whole goth look, meaning they all wore leather, wore purple eye shadow, and dyed their hair black. Last year, the whole wrestling team darkened their hair because they thought it made them look meaner. They still lost. Hair may not make the man, but this vampire boy must not have known this because it sure made him more arresting to the eye.

The final thing I noticed about him was that he wasn’t from around here. He looked Asian, probably Japanese. And since there was no Japanese community in Chelsea Valley, this made him the only one for miles and miles. Normally, around about this time, my mind would have been screaming, “Girl, you have a hot blond Asian guy living next door! Get busy!” That didn’t happen this time because no matter how you cut it I knew he was a vampire and I was going to have to kill him. Miyavi meowed his approval. I reached down to scratch his head. When I raised back up to look out the window again, the fog had lifted and the vampire boy was nowhere to be seen.

I hung some garlic over the window and went to bed. No sense in taking chances. As my father used to tell me before they locked him up, “You can’t trust a boy with shiny teeth and blood on his mouth.” Not that my new neighbor exhibited any of these, but still he was a vampire, and come tomorrow I would prove it.

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D. Aronson.

Continue to Episode 2: Angela

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Ghost Boy Blues 3

The weird thing is I don’t know how I died. These things are not always shown to the dead. Instead we must rely on others to lead us to answers through their memories of us. But what if no one remembers you? Am I just smoke dissipating from a dream?

I wish I remembered my own funeral. Did anybody speak eloquently of my short life? I know my achievements weren’t much. 8th grade spelling bee champion. Talent show runner up for my bland recital of Hamlet’s speech to Ophelia. Get thee to a nunnery never sounded so dull since the bard wrote it, I’m sure. Maybe someone said I was a good kid when I was younger, or that I had had “potential.” Im sure none of my classmates cried, certainly none of the girls. My best friend may have shed a tear in honor of how long we’d known each other, and mother might have wailed over the loss of her eldest boy, but I just couldn’t see my passing affecting anyone much. I could be wrong, but I’ll never know. That moment passed before my return as a shadow no one sees.

I tried doing like that Ghost movie my mom liked and going to a medium to see if they could at least hear me. And though the woman looked a lot like Whoopi Goldberg, she had none of her talent, humor, or ability to hear anything except a coin dropping in her purse. And in her presence I was just as helpless. I couldn’t move anything or cause a disturbance. I even screamed at the top of my lungs and sung what I thought were the correct words to “Despacito” and it still did no good.

It has to be the great cosmic joke that I can move around and go anywhere I want, but I can’t talk to a single person. No wonder in all the horror movies the spirits are angry and throwing shit around.

Ghost Boy Blues 2

I used to dream I was invisible, that I could move among others unseen and silent, watching their behavior, observing from a distance but close enough to touch. Now I’m not so sure. It is a lonely existence to be untouched forever.

I’m always looking around me, trying to see if there are others like me, moving amongst the classroom or just drifting in and out of this state of being with no control of themselves at all. But I see no one like that. All the kids here are flesh and blood. All the teachers are as they have always been, alive and wanting us to do well so we can prepared for the world.

But what if there is no world ahead? I thought I would graduate some day , go to college, find myself driving aimlessly in the adult world, trying to find my place amongst the rest. But if I go to college now, it will be just like this. Me observing. Me as a spy in the house of the living. And though I still remember how cool my dreams of invisibility were, now I just wish someone could see me. Somebody. Anybody. I just want to be noticed.