Goodbye, old movie theatre. Goodbye old school. Goodbye house. Goodbye any memories I have of my parents. Goodbye, childhood, I thought sadly. I had been an illegally emancipated teenager until I was fifteen, when my Aunt petúnia and Uncle Mitch whisked me away from my beautiful California to New England. I said the name scornfully. They were taking me to their hometown, Lynnfield, Massachusetts. They’d lived there since they were kids. Apparently, I was supposed to care about the story of how they were “high school sweethearts.” Seriously. My parents died when I was twelve, and I was forgotten. I was just forgotten. One day, my aunt and uncle remembered me. I had been hiding in an old mansion in Beverly Hills that no one wanted. It was said to be haunted. I ordered comida under my mother’s name with her credit card I’d found. It was left on the front step and I got it through the mail slot. It wasn’t even considered strange because I lived seguinte to Lady GaGa! You should have seen the things she did. . . .
Anyway, one nice day, I was leitura an old copy of Sense and Sensibility (yes, teenage rebels read. Or at least I do), when Aunt and Uncle Dearest walk in. Then, well, you get the picture.
So I was in a car on the way to the airport. When we got there, people stared. Mostly at me, but I get that a lot. I am called beautiful por many, but I don’t see it. I am mais (or less, I guess), then just petite. I’m 4’ 10. I have jet-black hair down to my knees and I’m a dancer. Well, I was before my parents died, and I still practiced every day. I had the time. I also studied. Mostly English, but some Math and Science too. I read history books and did art. I’m going to be homeschooled por myself in Lynnfield too, whether Auntie likes it or not. (I’m hoping for not. That would be nice to have a fight. I’ve been extremely polite to them for a while now. Ugghh.)
When the plane pulled into Logan Airport, a woman picked us up. She said she was Auntie’s assistant. I liked her immediately. She walked like a dancer. Her name was Grace, and it turned out she was a dancer. She was 4’ 11 and had spiky golden hair. She told me about a really good dance school five minutos from Auntie’s house, but I declined politely. I hated dance schools. I liked studying por myself. I went to dance school from when I was five to when I was twelve, but when my parents died, I gladly quit. I still loved to dance. She offered to teach me every Saturday afternoon, because she lived in Auntie’s guesthouse. I graciously accepted the offer this time. I loved one on one dancing.
por the way, my name is Honor. Ironic, isn’t it? That’s all I’m going to say on the subject of my name.
A week later I was at Market Basket, and I saw a guy looking at me. And I saw something, and in that moment, my world changed. He had fangs. Actual, curving, sharp fangs! And he crossed the ten feet between us in a nano-second, put his hand over my mouth, and I felt airy. Airy! Like I was turning into mist. Suddenly, we were in a back room. He said, in a voice so sweet, yet rebel-ish, I was stunned for a second, “Ok. You can scream now.” I glared at him and he smirked back, “So you’ve discovered my
secret,” he said. I replied, “I discovered something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something, all right.”
“I’m a vampire”
All I could do was pinch myself. And pinch. And pinch. I realized it hurt, but I didn’t care. I was in shock. His fingers gently pried my hand away from my arm. He said, “Stand back against the mural and stay focused on me.” It wasn’t hard. He had an overwhelming presence. I watched as he transformed from cocky guy to dangerous predator. His mouth grew fangs, sliding from his gums. His body crouched like a tiger waiting to pounce. He growled, sounding mais animal than man. I fainted and he caught me. Surprisingly, I wasn’t frightened. He was back to normal American teenager.
“Want to hear my story,” he asked. I nodded. And he began…
“The name’s Mitz, James Mitz. I was born in the winter of 1921. My mother was killed por my jerk of a father, and he was killed in the electric chair a ano later. I was walking the streets a mês later when a young vampire grabbed me. He bit me and left me to die, not knowing that I would change. Changing is actually pleasurable, contrary to popular to belief. I woke up and found an old homeless man sitting por the street. I grabbed him and pulled him into the alleyway. I drank from him until I realized I’d have to kill him or he’d become what I was: a monster. Of course, now I know that if I take just a small amount, the person will just fall unconscious and awaken five hours later, unharmed. He was the only person I ever killed. And I have been a roamer for a while now. And, well, you know the rest.”
“My name is Honor Worthey,” was all I could muster. “Seriously,” James smirked again, questioningly this time. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” I grinned. I get that a lot with a name like that. He looked at me like I was insane. “Why do I feel like I know you?” he asked seriously. “I feel the same,” I told him, and it was true.
And in that one insane, crazy, messed-up, perfect moment, James Mitz became my soul mate.
“Soul mate?” he asked. I turned, confused. Did I just say that out loud? “No, I don’t think you said it out loud,” he said.
What is going on?
What was that? Was that…James? This isn’t happening! I can hear his thoughts. “And I can hear yours,” James told me. I grinned.
I wonder if we can block our minds, he thought.
I hoped so. It would be nice to be able to talk through our minds, but I didn’t want an intruder in my private thoughts.
Me neither.
I couldn’t help but be a little peeved at that thought.
Sorry.
“It’s okay,” I said out loud. I glanced at the Mickey rato wristwatch on my hand. It was three o’ clock! I had a dance lesson with Grace in fifteen minutes! “I have to go,” I told him. I dug through his crowded mind until I found his number. When I was sure he had my number, I ran out the door. I felt a tidal wave of regret from James and myself that I had to go. As I walked home, I realized the emotions and thoughts I was getting weren’t my own, but James’. Cool! Long distance telepathy!
Grace was sitting at the mesa, tabela leitura a book. She dog-eared it and smiled her elfin grin at me. “C’mon,” she said, “let’s go practice!” For once I didn’t flinch at her perkiness. She danced her way to the large finished basement. I walked behind her, glancing back at the book. It was a biography on Anna Pavlova, a famous ballet dancer who started her own school in Hampstead, England and made herself famous there.
As Grace went through stretching her legs, I stared off into space, wishing I could tell somebody about James. If only I had a friend….Grace was my friend, I supposed. I would tell her, I thought, but not that he was a vampire. Then I decided against it. I was an awful liar, and she’d see through me in an instant. I was glad, though. A part of me wanted it to be my own little secret. It made me special.
I was sweating when the lesson was over. I took a sip of Fiji water from my bottle and ran up the stairs. I headed to my room. It was decorated perfectly. My room was huge, and one whole mural was a glass estante, estante de livros filled with my favorito books. (I have a lot of favorito books.) There was a large flat screen TV in the middle, in front of my King size canopy bed. Everything in the room, except for the bookcase, was midnight blue and gold. Off the room was a huge bathroom. There was a gold sink and toilet, and a gold chuveiro with sprays on all the walls. The walls were midnight blue and had light-up gold stars and a huge moon on them.
I sat down on the huge cama and sighed, staring up at my gold ceiling. It was then I realized I wasn’t getting any thoughts from James. But as soon as I had that thought, I heard him thinking about me. He was about to call me. The weird thing was, I couldn’t hear what I was thinking through his mind. I guess it was meant to be that way. Too confusing.
My cell phone rang then, and I answered, “Hi!” I flinched. Since when was I perky? “Hi,” he said, “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“You too,” I said, not knowing what to say. Then, with a start, I found that I hadn’t thought much about him being a vampire. “Thanks,” he said. It was so awkward. I’d much rather use telepathy than talk on the phone. But it was necessary. At least I didn’t need to fill him in on the things I’d discovered. I knew he knew already. “Want to go to dinner? I can meet your aunt and uncle,” he asked nervously.
“Absolutely!”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at 5:00, and we can go to jantar and a special place of mine.”
“Is it a secret place?”
“Yes. And I’ll block it out of my mind so you don’t find out, little pitcher.” I’m guessing he meant little pitchers have big ears.
Should I continue? Don't know if it's good enough!!!! HELP!
Anyway, one nice day, I was leitura an old copy of Sense and Sensibility (yes, teenage rebels read. Or at least I do), when Aunt and Uncle Dearest walk in. Then, well, you get the picture.
So I was in a car on the way to the airport. When we got there, people stared. Mostly at me, but I get that a lot. I am called beautiful por many, but I don’t see it. I am mais (or less, I guess), then just petite. I’m 4’ 10. I have jet-black hair down to my knees and I’m a dancer. Well, I was before my parents died, and I still practiced every day. I had the time. I also studied. Mostly English, but some Math and Science too. I read history books and did art. I’m going to be homeschooled por myself in Lynnfield too, whether Auntie likes it or not. (I’m hoping for not. That would be nice to have a fight. I’ve been extremely polite to them for a while now. Ugghh.)
When the plane pulled into Logan Airport, a woman picked us up. She said she was Auntie’s assistant. I liked her immediately. She walked like a dancer. Her name was Grace, and it turned out she was a dancer. She was 4’ 11 and had spiky golden hair. She told me about a really good dance school five minutos from Auntie’s house, but I declined politely. I hated dance schools. I liked studying por myself. I went to dance school from when I was five to when I was twelve, but when my parents died, I gladly quit. I still loved to dance. She offered to teach me every Saturday afternoon, because she lived in Auntie’s guesthouse. I graciously accepted the offer this time. I loved one on one dancing.
por the way, my name is Honor. Ironic, isn’t it? That’s all I’m going to say on the subject of my name.
A week later I was at Market Basket, and I saw a guy looking at me. And I saw something, and in that moment, my world changed. He had fangs. Actual, curving, sharp fangs! And he crossed the ten feet between us in a nano-second, put his hand over my mouth, and I felt airy. Airy! Like I was turning into mist. Suddenly, we were in a back room. He said, in a voice so sweet, yet rebel-ish, I was stunned for a second, “Ok. You can scream now.” I glared at him and he smirked back, “So you’ve discovered my
secret,” he said. I replied, “I discovered something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something, all right.”
“I’m a vampire”
All I could do was pinch myself. And pinch. And pinch. I realized it hurt, but I didn’t care. I was in shock. His fingers gently pried my hand away from my arm. He said, “Stand back against the mural and stay focused on me.” It wasn’t hard. He had an overwhelming presence. I watched as he transformed from cocky guy to dangerous predator. His mouth grew fangs, sliding from his gums. His body crouched like a tiger waiting to pounce. He growled, sounding mais animal than man. I fainted and he caught me. Surprisingly, I wasn’t frightened. He was back to normal American teenager.
“Want to hear my story,” he asked. I nodded. And he began…
“The name’s Mitz, James Mitz. I was born in the winter of 1921. My mother was killed por my jerk of a father, and he was killed in the electric chair a ano later. I was walking the streets a mês later when a young vampire grabbed me. He bit me and left me to die, not knowing that I would change. Changing is actually pleasurable, contrary to popular to belief. I woke up and found an old homeless man sitting por the street. I grabbed him and pulled him into the alleyway. I drank from him until I realized I’d have to kill him or he’d become what I was: a monster. Of course, now I know that if I take just a small amount, the person will just fall unconscious and awaken five hours later, unharmed. He was the only person I ever killed. And I have been a roamer for a while now. And, well, you know the rest.”
“My name is Honor Worthey,” was all I could muster. “Seriously,” James smirked again, questioningly this time. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” I grinned. I get that a lot with a name like that. He looked at me like I was insane. “Why do I feel like I know you?” he asked seriously. “I feel the same,” I told him, and it was true.
And in that one insane, crazy, messed-up, perfect moment, James Mitz became my soul mate.
“Soul mate?” he asked. I turned, confused. Did I just say that out loud? “No, I don’t think you said it out loud,” he said.
What is going on?
What was that? Was that…James? This isn’t happening! I can hear his thoughts. “And I can hear yours,” James told me. I grinned.
I wonder if we can block our minds, he thought.
I hoped so. It would be nice to be able to talk through our minds, but I didn’t want an intruder in my private thoughts.
Me neither.
I couldn’t help but be a little peeved at that thought.
Sorry.
“It’s okay,” I said out loud. I glanced at the Mickey rato wristwatch on my hand. It was three o’ clock! I had a dance lesson with Grace in fifteen minutes! “I have to go,” I told him. I dug through his crowded mind until I found his number. When I was sure he had my number, I ran out the door. I felt a tidal wave of regret from James and myself that I had to go. As I walked home, I realized the emotions and thoughts I was getting weren’t my own, but James’. Cool! Long distance telepathy!
Grace was sitting at the mesa, tabela leitura a book. She dog-eared it and smiled her elfin grin at me. “C’mon,” she said, “let’s go practice!” For once I didn’t flinch at her perkiness. She danced her way to the large finished basement. I walked behind her, glancing back at the book. It was a biography on Anna Pavlova, a famous ballet dancer who started her own school in Hampstead, England and made herself famous there.
As Grace went through stretching her legs, I stared off into space, wishing I could tell somebody about James. If only I had a friend….Grace was my friend, I supposed. I would tell her, I thought, but not that he was a vampire. Then I decided against it. I was an awful liar, and she’d see through me in an instant. I was glad, though. A part of me wanted it to be my own little secret. It made me special.
I was sweating when the lesson was over. I took a sip of Fiji water from my bottle and ran up the stairs. I headed to my room. It was decorated perfectly. My room was huge, and one whole mural was a glass estante, estante de livros filled with my favorito books. (I have a lot of favorito books.) There was a large flat screen TV in the middle, in front of my King size canopy bed. Everything in the room, except for the bookcase, was midnight blue and gold. Off the room was a huge bathroom. There was a gold sink and toilet, and a gold chuveiro with sprays on all the walls. The walls were midnight blue and had light-up gold stars and a huge moon on them.
I sat down on the huge cama and sighed, staring up at my gold ceiling. It was then I realized I wasn’t getting any thoughts from James. But as soon as I had that thought, I heard him thinking about me. He was about to call me. The weird thing was, I couldn’t hear what I was thinking through his mind. I guess it was meant to be that way. Too confusing.
My cell phone rang then, and I answered, “Hi!” I flinched. Since when was I perky? “Hi,” he said, “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“You too,” I said, not knowing what to say. Then, with a start, I found that I hadn’t thought much about him being a vampire. “Thanks,” he said. It was so awkward. I’d much rather use telepathy than talk on the phone. But it was necessary. At least I didn’t need to fill him in on the things I’d discovered. I knew he knew already. “Want to go to dinner? I can meet your aunt and uncle,” he asked nervously.
“Absolutely!”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at 5:00, and we can go to jantar and a special place of mine.”
“Is it a secret place?”
“Yes. And I’ll block it out of my mind so you don’t find out, little pitcher.” I’m guessing he meant little pitchers have big ears.
Should I continue? Don't know if it's good enough!!!! HELP!