Fallen Photo

Money is insignificant to me, it is merely a necessity for humans. However, tonight I found myself attracted to a wallet of my broken prey. In a desperate struggle to escape it had fallen out his pocket. As my hunger dissipated, I unlocked my fangs from his neck. 

     My odd attraction to the leather object hastened my preparation. Methodically, I peeled off the skin of the man’s neck to erase the bitemarks. This was a common procedure to disguise the human feedings. The neck made a sound of masking tape being cut by a pair of scissors. Hence, it could be assumed a rabid animal or psychotic slasher was scurrying about the city streets. 

      Inexplicably, my attention remained drawn to the wallet beside a pool of blood. Strewn open I noticed a a pair of pictures. Oh humans and their vanity, I mused. I took the one to the left feeling the plastic against my fingertips. The license revealed my prey. Subsequently, I became fixated on the other photo sealed in plastic. Curiously, I slid it out to inspect it closer. It was barely larger than my thumb and its corners bent to fit inside the holder. I examined the photo with a sense of unexpected nostalgia. She had bright blue eyes and was dressed in a white communion dress. Her tiny hands were fixed in prayer. 

      Immediately, I felt a rush of emotion throttle my body. My hands were unable to let go of the photo or release myself from the painful sensation. It had clamped down like some sort of trap.That is when the macabre revelation overcame me that the photo wanted to take the blood back. 

      My mind blacked out yet I saw a painting of red blood on the canvas of my consciousness. I heard a child mourning through an echoing of screams. I was cognizant that the photo wanted to drain me as I had done to the human. No, it was worse than it wanted to imprint itself upon me. 

     A host of unfamiliar faces followed by strange voices filled my mind. The sudden impact caused my legs to shake. Barely audible, a voice whispered the name Sarah. She was the child in the photograph and the daughter of my prey. And he was a loving father. 

      A grieving widower, Sarah was his world. She was all that he had until the fatal day, a drunk driver ran through the red light two streets. The blood I drank was cursed with unbearable pain and sadness. Sarah. She was only nine. Nine, the number echoed in my mind. An overwhelming sadness circulating in my blood began crushing the arteries throughout my body. My lungs tightened like a vice. How could I be choking when I had no use for breathing? 

      Lightheaded I fell to my knees hitting the cold pavement. I remained woozy and vulnerable to any passerbys in the city park. I felt her inside of me. She was ravaging my body as I had done to her fathers. Sarah wanted me to drown in her fathers stolen blood.  

     With blurry vision I noticed the moon fading away. Feebly,I climbed to my feet. My eyes shut tightly as I concentrated in an effort to lighten my body. The feeding had made me heavier than normal. I concentrated harder and focused to lighten my mind. Finally, my body succumbed to a delicate lightness. The clouds provided me shelter as I became weightless. As I escaped a pair of hands fixed in prayer followed me home. 

      In the darkness of my room there was a clamor that broke my fragile slumber. My heightened senses went into action yet found nothing of concern. I convinced myself the madness was a troublesome dream. Undoubtedly, the sound of rustling I heard had been from a long strenuous night of hunting. 

     Subsequently, I heard a stifled commotion throughout the halls of my secluded mansion. Belligerently, I strutted over to the bedroom window. Irritated, I drew the burgundy curtains open. I noticed the moonlight dimming as the salt air permeated through the walls and windows of my master bedroom. Inexplicably, I sensed the shadowy tides warning me of an imminent peril. This set off an alarm since the ocean had never lied to me before. It was a summer eve yet I felt an elongated coldness hanging within the air. Sarah?  

       Yes. She was the chill in my room. Justifiably, the child wanted revenge. I wanted to dismiss her but I felt uninspired to be cruel within the moment. Outside another round of rolling waves crashed against the rocks generating a thunderous roar. 

Feeling weak and dizzy my body sat itself down. 

     Sarah sat nearby with a palpable curiosity. Momentarily calm, she was inquisitive about my existence. I smiled with false bravado. However, it was hard to breathe and hide my fear of her any longer. I could feel her hosting my body like a parasite. Painfully, she was digging through my brain to scratch out my memories.  

      I fell across time back to my hometown. I was nine years old, the exact age of Sarah's death. Casting a bittersweet glance I watched myself grinning ear to ear.

     “Robert, where are you?” I heard a sweet forgotten voice. Liza, my fraternal twin, was running towards me happily as children ought to be. and smiling. 

      She held a large purple chalk crayon in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. Excitedly, she handed it to me, “Come on let’s draw!”

      I watched us get comfortable on the patio cement. She handed me a cloth bag. 

     Liza shouted, “Grab some, we can draw monsters!”

     We laughed wildly drawing crooked and simple sketches across the blank sheets of cement behind our ranch house. Above, the sun allowed a sliver of shade to cover us while we played. I had forgotten the partnership between the sun and daylight. Liza always drew a circle and colored the sun yellow with a smiley face. I hadn’t missed the sun until this moment. 

      I noticed my tiny hand pull out a piece of black chalk. As usual I had chosen that color to make my monster scarier. It was strange watching myself acting silly. I repeatedly turned to Liza as if waiting for her approval on my artwork. Wistfully, I fixated upon my sister. I wanted her to never leave my memory. Admittedly, it had been a shameful amount of time since thinking about her. Why did I push my sister's memory aside like that? 

       Liza had never aged beyond nine. Like Sarah they would remain children. Why? What happened to my joyful other half? Those pressing thoughts were interrupted by a tightly hand holding mine. 

       Mimicking the sun, its touch was warm to my skin. I looked up to witness my mother looking down upon my frightened eyes. She had forced a weak smile but I noticed red swelling around her eyelids. To each side of my mother people formed a semi circle adorned in pressed black suits and dresses decorated by despair. The despondent group of friends and relatives wept. I recalled being surprised that adults cried.  

       I heard a low thud which produced a collective gasp from every direction. Grains of golden sand fell downwards deeper into the earth. The crying intensified as I observed a pair of stoic men carrying forth a colorful bronze box. 

       Slowly, the tiny coffin submerged from the glorious blades of green grass. It disappeared into a hole of damp clay covered by the driest of dirt. I heard my mother say to me that everything would be fine. She had lied that day. I remembered the sadness never passed.

      I desperately wanted to color with Liza one more time underneath the shade and steadfast sun. Certainly, my mother had spun a fib and nothing would ever be fine again. Humanity was drawn by an oversized black chalk crayon. I forgot how awful it was to be plagued by the menace of disease along with the permanence of death. There is always that black chalk figure waiting to devour happiness and drag it away. 

      A hoard of waves outside smacked the jagged rocks along the sturdy walls. It made a sweet sound that belied the inside of the room.Sarah was sadly impressed to hear how much the both of us had in common. A pang of guilt struck me knowing I had taken away her shining sun. Suddenly,I felt alone. Although, I knew Sarah was nearby. 

     I suggested, “ Maybe, you should be thankful for the end of his pain and suffering?

     My veins remained throbbing as the room stood eerily quiet. I felt sick. How old would my sister be today? If only she hadn’t gotten sick. Disease is a demon possessed by humans. I would have taken her with me to color the nights in red. 

       Across the room the vanity mirror from the master bathroom splintered into an intricate design of cobwebs. A faucet above the sink dripped to match a leaky shower head. I sensed memories in my mind aping the teary eyed faucets. Desperately, I wanted the dripping to stop but the pipes were broken. Just as I am. 

      “No. You don’t have to be a monster. It is not right. Don’t you understand what you have lost?” 

        I was startled by Sarah’s fury and embarrassed of what I had forgotten. 

           “ It’s devastating to have love taken from you.” Sarah noted with monotone sadness. 

         I nodded in defeated agreement. I heard the wind tap my window as if desirous to soothe my anguish. No, I told myself I wanted to remember being a human. It had been decades of me feeling nothing but unmitigated hunger. In retrospect I had become black chalk. I wanted to be alone but something was floating downwards.

     I was overcome with awe as the photo from the wallet landed by the side of my foot. Since when did I take home souvenirs? No, I didn’t as I recalled it becoming a stowaway. I scoffed realizing nothing good would ever be a part of me. Regardless, I bent over to pick it up. I examined the speck of dry blood at the tip of its worn corner. My finger traced the familiar the red stain. Nine, I whispered. Sarah had been a beautiful girl. Why did children have to suffer from the hands of adults? 

      “ David. You should know his name.” Sarah explained. 

       I looked at the tiny photograph. She had followed him from inside of that wallet. The red blotch along the trim had not tainted the beauty between them. How I abhor my animal lust for staining such a splendid portrait. I winced at the thought of another hating me for all eternity. How could I have forgotten the amount of hurt death takes upon humanity. When did I forget how it felt to be alive? 

         Sarah or the ocean breeze whispered, “No, you numbed yourself in order to forget the consequences of living.”

         I stared at the photo again.

       “I’m sorry for what I have become. But I exist and to do so I must feed. It is my lot in life.”

        I felt a rush of blood, our blood, clogged up to a point that would kill any person. It wanted me to remember more. It sent me back to when I turned fourteen. Five years had passed and had changed my mother’s grief into a monster. Not the kind with fangs but with an utter coldness and callousness put aside for the living. 

     “Robert, please run down to the store and buy me a pack of Pall Malls. I’m too tired to even get out of bed.” 

Tightly,I held onto the red trimmed photo as I watched myself run down to the country store returning with a pack of cigarettes in my hand. I remembered feeling like a good boy going on a big boy errand. She was going to be happy that I got what she needed. It had been a long time since I had been her good boy. 

         Don’t go inside! 

           I can’t stop a memory can I Sarah? I didn’t expect her to answer but I know she was watching along with me. 

         Helplessly,I saw my teenage self enter my mother’s bedroom. Her face was pale as the white sheets she layed on. My mothers eyes were wide awake without any expression other than relief. Atlas she seemed peaceful as though finally finding a good night's rest. Often, I had heard her crying about Liza almost every night and day at all different hours.

       It made it hard for me to push aside the pain. Now, she was cold and peaceful without any thoughts to mourn. Why would I want to remember any of this? I wanted to scold Sarah. But I knew it was that she wanted me to remember how it felt to be human. Life was not immeasurable hence the value of living was precious.

        Morbidly, I wondered if she recalled being lowered into the ground. Sadly, there is not enough dirt on earth that could bury the pain for the living. A beam of moonlight caressed my bedroom until it casted a dull reflection upon the hardwood floors. The sudden intrusion freed me from the past. 

      Begrudgingly, I arose as my hunger beckoned me to fulfill its cravings. I wanted to toss the photo aside but I hesitated. Why? It didn’t belong to me. She didn’t belong to me. I thought of the grief it provoked in me along with a sense of nostalgia for being human. I opened my jacket and placed it in the inner pocket. Maybe Sarah wanted to fly into the skies and haunt my travels? 

     Perhaps, the fact her photo rekindled all the pain in my past was a chance for her revenge? Sarah had gone. She had left my house without a goodbye like my mother had done. 

 I opened the window of my terrace to see the glimmer of the moon painting the endless pool of beauty. The salty air blended in with the vibrant breeze. I craved for twilight to be less ordinary and more sublime. 

      Sarah agreed because she had begun to see my life as a photograph with a stain. I think we understood that hurt and pain are grotesque monsters infested in both the living and the dead. 

     I gazed outside towards the glimmering skies of gray. How amazing it was that beauty and ugliness could coexist in this world. Above the crashing waves and shrieking winds I heard myself exhale. I thought I was above humanity because I couldn’t feel. I was wrong. I could feel my sister's love for coloring books and drawing on notebook paper. I had felt my mothers pride as she hung both our silly drawings on the refrigerator and upon her bureau. 

     Sarah had returned with a vividness and candor to ease my mind. The young girl in the photo told me she colored with her dad too. I could see a pink pony and a purple pig which made me grin. Desperately, I asked her if she could ever forgive me for what I did. Her silence was ambiguous yet I reminded myself that children have a greater tendency for forgiveness than most adults.

      I tried to recall the sunshine beating down upon my shoulders and face as it had done when I played with Liza. We had laughed and played together before that spectacular shine was stolen from us.

      I had immortality and the world was mine to explore yet I had grown tired and utterly disinterested. I had become joyless, the world had evolved into a grotesque parody.

     I missed being able to feel anything other than hunger. Sarah's photo made me feel human again. I mourned for her loss. I welcomed the guilt. Would she believe how sad I have become since I separated Sarah from her father? 

       I stood alone on the terrace soaking in the promise of a horizon. It felt like forever since capturing one. I watched in awe as the rising sun illuminated the darkened skies. Its refreshing warmth fell gently upon my skin. I felt the strength of its invigorating presence. 

      The sunlight was miraculously nostalgic. It wove spectacular tales about the existence of days and mornings from my past. I felt a stinging sensation before realizing that the burning itch were tears forming within my eyes. Surely, I had never believed I could miss tears.

      Sarah had joined me to admire the spectacle display of the sun. The glow of the morning sunset reminded me that every ending has a new beginning. As the sun emerged it granted serenity to the face of the anguised ocean. The sun was miraculous and glorious and it reminded me of my sister. She loved to draw the sun with its smiling face. 

      I winced in pain.The morning was arriving and it made me cry with excitement. As steam arose from my limbs I endured the excruciating pain. The torment made me feel human again. I ignored the stench of charred tendons and veins. I had to because I needed to watch the color of the sun. 

      Joyfully, I stared at it as though I was nine. If only I had a piece of chalk. Most definitely, I would reach for a purple one. I would draw its essence in fanciful colors the way Liza would have. Yes, our sun would be purple. 

      Sarah whispered, how wonderful it must be after so much time. I nodded through the burning steam. Thank you for sharing this day with me Sarah. Silence. I retrieved the blood stained photo from inside of my jacket. I held it up into the daylight with a grateful smile. Slowly,I watched it burn away without it ever losing its beauty.