One night, just because she was out at night, just because she happened to be handing out flyers to the wrong person at the wrong time, all of the things that she had loved had, more or less, been taken from her.
Although she could still see her parents – and still did, on occasion – she didn’t see them quite as often, for fear that they might realise something was different. Something was wrong. And that she might bring some kind of danger to them. Her friends she had had to ditch, for the very same reasons. They wouldn’t understand why she wouldn’t come to brunch anymore, or shopping in the afternoon, or to throw frizbees in the park. Of course, yes, she could have kept her job – but how would she explain not wolfing down the diner’s food like she had once before? How would she explain that she could only work night times? And there were mirrors in that place, too – how would she have been able to dodge them? She wouldn’t have. And besides, she had friends at work. She couldn’t risk it. The same with the derby team. They’d meet to practice during the day. There’d be competitions that would start early on in the day, and push on until night time.
Zelda had to start a whole new life. That was fine, she told herself. It would all be okay. Live in the moment – find the silver linings. Immortality! And think, some of the things she could do! The power that she had! These were the silver linings.
And yet, the façade was beginning to crack.
In her mortal life, Zelda had been highly social. She rarely slept, because she couldn’t bare missing the opportunity to go out and have fun with friends, to meet new people, to dance the night away, to laugh and cajole and generally live life to its fullest. To take pleasure in all that life had to offer, and to take none of it for granted. Maybe that’s why she’d survived like this for so long – she hadn’t taken anything for granted, ever. She’d milked every moment, savoured it, as if it might be her last.
But now? More often than not, she found herself alone. She didn’t have a solid group of ‘vampire’ friends. She didn’t have anyone she called on to go out with, to have fun. Crashing parties was all well and good, but she could never keep the acquaintances that she made.
It was a nagging, darkening tangle in her soul that continued to grow; her mood began to sour. She frowned more. She was lonely. So used was the redhead to being surrounded by people who she loved, and who loved her back – and now she count those solid acquaintances on one hand. One single lonely hand.
She fished the bright pink phone from her bag and dialled his number. His. The one person in the moment who she felt could calm her down and soothe her nerves. She lifted the phone to her ear. She stood, her knee jerking impatiently, painted nails brought to her lips as she nibbled at the tip with her front teeth. She wasn’t even dressed like her usual glamorous self – her hair was loose over what could be considered a rather ugly beige knitted vest, which was loose over a striped, loosely knitted, colourful blouse. Long, form-fitting jeans. Jeans, for crying out loud! She never wore jeans.
Her eyes – a bright and weird mixture of caramel and greenery – darted to and fro as the phone rang on the other end of the line. A light breeze touched her hair. She blinked, and vaguely watched a couple, hand in hand, walking together across the street. She continued to watch, as she waited. Lost in her own whirlwind of thoughts, and feeling as fragile as class. One blow, and she’d shatter completely.