First Post

Look... First of all, I don't even believe what I'm about to be writing, so I don't expect anyone else to, but sometimes you just have to get the crazy out in order to get better. So, two nights ago I was walking to work and I was... I don't even know. Drugged? Mugged? Attacked? I remember something hitting me from behind. It felt like Kevin had tried to slam me into the lockers again, only he'd been taking HGH or something and gained 50 pounds. I woke up what I thought was a few hours later, in the basement of some building. It was still dark out. Whoever it was they'd hit me hard enough to smash my cell. They also cleaned out my wallet, but at least they left it. This meant I was gonna be late on rent again. Son of a bitch.

So, anyways, after I cleared my head a moment I set about getting myself out. Wasn't too hard, I think it was close to a full moon or something; there seemed to be enough light to see and find my way to the stairs. Once I got outside though, I found a spot of blood on my shirt. I nearly passed out right then. I ripped my work shirt off over my head and held it out before me as I looked around, trying to get my bearings, holding my shirt out at arm's length from my body. Look, I would have left it but I get docked thirty bucks from my check for new ones, and I was pretty sure I could get the blood out... Maybe.

Twenty minutes of wandering later, I made it back to my apartment. It was at that point I realized my keys were missing too. Having a habit of losing them though, I'd gotten a spare made and kept it buried in the corner of the planter closest to my door. It works, and it's better than those fake looking rocks. Once I got in I put the shirt into a grocery bag, then into my room while I grabbed another, grabbed the phone and called into work. Talking to the evening guy is when I learned I'd lost an entire day. I made up some story about eating some bad tacos and not having been able to even call. Apparently, I was only about an hour late for that nights shift. I told him I was on my way.

Thankfully it was a slow cold night. Yes, while I do indeed live in the desert, we do have cold. While it may not be as cold as some places, when you've lived here damn near all your life, you still don't want to go out in it. Being as I worked in one of the off chain stores, and our prices on late-night sludge coffee could be beaten by any of the bigger chains, I didn't see many customers, but when I did I couldn't stop staring at their necks. I kept getting pulled in, imagining I could hear their heartbeats, see the veins throbbing as they stood there, gape mouthed as they paid for their late night munchies. Twice it took them snapping fingers in my face to break the trance. 5 AM couldn't come soon enough. As soon as morning shift walked through the door, I was gone. I had to get home. Everything in me was screaming to get out of there. I think when I was unconscious they doped me up with something, but I've never heard of a drug that lasted this long.

I made it home much earlier than normal, and while I was likely to get an angry call from the owner for not allowing double coverage during our morning rush, I was at least home.

I spent the next 45 minutes looking myself over for needle marks. Yea, okay, chances were I wasn't going to find anything. Hell, there wasn't even a scratch where that blood had come from. Maybe it wasn't even mine. The thought though instantly made me queasy. Empty stomach started doing flip-flops until the snickers and red bull I'd had to make it through the night was revisited in a combination which did no justice to how the two had tasted going down. Despite the fact I'd just sent the only thing I'd had all night, and in the last 24 hours at all, down to the sewers, nothing in my kitchen seemed appetizing. I tossed in a few of those toaster waffles most people stop eating around their teens, turned to put the box back into the freezer then...

I woke up on my kitchen floor. Once frozen waffles had rolled out of the box after I'd hit the ground. There was a roach under my sink. I could hear the bastard. I'd had them fumigate a few months back, but apparently this was super roach. I lay there though, still as I could be until I heard him scuttle closer. Then I saw him. Her. It. It started heading right for one of the former frozen breakfast snacks, but as soon as it was in arm's reach my hand shot out, grabbing the bug, popping it into my mouth. After a few quick crunches down it went, and nearly instantly my churning stomach stopped, at least until I realized I'd just eaten a bug that had been under my sink.

With a groan I pushed myself up, reached immediately for a glass that was arguably clean, and downed a full glass of water. Minutes later I was throwing it back up into the sink, though this time with roach parts. Delicious. I started dragging my feet back towards my bathroom grabbing up my toothbrush and starting to scrub my teeth. What normally would have been a blear-eyed stare into my bathroom mirror was actually just a wide awake glance, then a second, longer one as I wasn't there. I watched my toothbrush fall from my apparently now transparent head and waved my hands in front of my face a while. "Okay... I can see myself. I can see objects. I don't... reflect... anymore?" There was nothing where I stood. No, that wasn't right. There was something there, a distortion like when you see heat waves in the distance in the road.

Denial isn't in Egypt anymore; it had relocated to my tiny apartment, and I was fully swept away by it.

It was that time that every bad vampire movie I'd ever seen decided to come into play. I hadn't seen many, but I guessed I knew enough to run through a list of things I could use to prove, or disprove, my theory. Firstly, no reflection was a huge give away. The fact I couldn't keep down food, even water, was another. Vampires exist purely on... *shudder* blood. Okay, I guess I better explain. I'm hemophobic. I have an intense fear of blood. I can't stand it. The tiniest speck is enough to normally turn my stomach, make me want to seek out the nearest trashcan. If the stuff is flowing, forget it. I'll see you in a couple minutes after I've gotten up off the floor. Now though, fate seemed to want to walk up and slap me in the balls. The thought that I'd have to spend the rest of my life living on that stuff just... Ugh.

Okay, so, assessment of my situation. I was attacked, apparently by a vampire, turned for some reason, and left safe to wake up the next night. I apparently can't be up during the day. I can't eat or drink anything except that which I hate. I can't see myself in my mirror anymore, and according to the clock I was soon to be late to work. Hell. I dressed in record time and booked it out the door, only to realize after 10 minutes of sprinting that would have normally left me winded that apparently the stories of strength were true. The stares from the few people passing by helped me realize I was moving too fast too. Oops.

Work felt like an eternity, and I couldn't even munch on any of my normal snacks to keep myself energized. However I did now understand my sudden fascination with people's necks.

Shift change couldn't come soon enough. I bolted home, darting through alleyways and tried to sort out my thoughts before I decided to create this. I suppose you could call this "My so called life: Vampire Edition". We'll see how long I decide to keep posting with this thing. Oh, hey, looks like the sun is co