Path of the Vampire forum

Seventeen unedited pages of this term's paper sat opened up in a word document on her laptop, the cursor stuck in a never ending blink on one of the most commonly used words ever in the English language: the. That didn't seem to be the least of her concerns as she swayed, hips moving back and forth, facing the opposite side of the room. Lithe shadows sprawled out over the decorated walls of the room, her arms transforming into snakes with too many heads.

The voice of Damian Marley, Junior Gong as he was known, filled the small space with an easy tranquility, a slow rock that went straight to the soul, with just enough edge to make those delectable hips jerk the way they were always meant to against the subtle flow of a rather appetizing waistline. Damian might have been the youngest son of the reggae king, but there was no disputing the fact that he could more than hold his own in the genre. Maybe it was something in the blood, Marley blood, that had the men grasping for instruments and microphones before they even met awareness in the womb.

Welcome to Jamrock indeed. Nirmala was no stranger to dancing. As sure as Tuff Gong and his brood were one with their music, she had always been a dancer. And for every little note they song, she presented a move to adorn it. This was the sort of thing she had been born for. That would explain why the browser window behind her paper was nothing but tab after tab of job searching for something in her preferred field in this wretched, wonderful city. Money didn't grow on trees, even if trees provided the material needed to print said money. Now wasn't that some ****.

Across the room, her cell phone jittered alive, lighting up the window sill on which it sat in a hot pink flash. From Jamaica on the computer to India on the phone. Any roommate she might have had would surely be a train wreck trying to figure her out with all of these cultural mash ups and fusions she was constantly presenting. Her mother's ringtone was nothing short of Bollywood brilliance. That smooth dance came to an abrupt stop as she moved to grab the phone with one hand, the other muting all traces of a Rastafarian lifestyle her mother would assume she led if she heard it playing.

"Hi Mama!" She smiled so brightly to hear her mother's voice that it was almost worth missing her her favorite part of the day: dance in the dark by yourself o'clock. "Ya. Aku baik-baik saja."

And so the conversation went. Mother asking motherly questions and daughter responding with daughterly ones. School, love interests, getting enough to eat, finding a job; the list went on and on. But not once did Nirmala seem agitated or feel like she needed to rush off the phone for this reason or that. Family was important, especially the woman who gave her the gift of life. And a great set of legs, to be downright honest.

Like all conversations, the one with her mother eventually dwindled down to apologetic excuses as to why they each had to go and move on with things in their daily routine, rather nightly. Both of them wished the other well and just like that there was a silence in the room that struck the most unpleasant chord. Sitting still wasn't an option. It did nothing to cure the tiny fleck of a hole that phone call had left. So Nir grabbed her jacket and headed out of the residence hall with no place particular in mind. All she wanted to do was walk.

It wasn't long before she found herself out in the middle of the campus mall, looking up at the library. "****...just great." It was a one big middle finger of a reminder that she still had an entire night's worth of proofreading to do before she could submit that paper in the morning. No idiot just turned in a rough draft and expected to get a passing grade. With a heavy sigh, Nir did what any good procrastinator would do; she flopped down onto her back in the frost-kissed grass to stare up at the winter night sky.

Her first week (and possibly last) working for Marva’s Mode, a trendy little fashion store in town, had transferred her first weeks’ pay into her account which would give the woman a little more cash to spend during the holidays. She had already purchased a gift for her brother, Benjamin ‘Etto’ Clarke, and her father, Thomas ‘Ray’ Clarke. That just left her mother, Ninna, and her favourite new roommate, Matangi; she might even go as far as to buy the girl’s weird pet iguana something too… if she could work out what iguanas liked to eat or play with.
It was frosty outside this evening and there was a real chill in the air. Nala was wrapped up in a pair of white skinny jeans, fur boots, a tan woolly jersey, and a big festive scarf that seemed to boast her love of all things Christmas. That’s right, Nala loved everything to do with Christmas, the food, the presents, the shopping, spending time with family, singing the same old carols, dressing the tree, and best of all… the television shows. They always played all the old classics and Nala would stay up for hours driving everyone crazy with her weird obsession; she couldn’t help it, the idea of Christmas just made her giddy.
She stopped at the ‘hole in the wall’ to withdraw enough money for her share of the food shopping bill, which she halved with Matangi when the two of them felt up to cooking rather than eating out or at the university. She gave the change in her purse to a beggar who sat crossed legged outside the seven eleven and walked inside to grab a stick of gum and a pack of raspberry-chews.
“Four fifty,” the man behind the counter said and she handed over a note and waited for change before shoving her purchases into her purse.
“Thanks,” Nala smiled a smile that belonged to her mother, all teeth.

The automatic doors opened behind Nala and a shaky little voice piped up, “Cold out isn’t it?” An old woman stepped forward to pay for a loaf of bread, the local newspaper, and a bottle of milk.
“Yes it is, let me get that for you,” Nala offered, passing back her change to the clerk.
“Oh, dear, how very kind of you,” the elderly woman smiled, wrapping her fingers around Nala’s forearm.
“You’re welcome, Merry Christmas,” Nala beamed and left the store to head on down the road towards the university.

Walking after dark was one of Nala’s least favourite things to do, especially now that she was living away from home. Of course, home technically wasn’t really that far as her father, Ray had a nice apartment in one of the fancy new buildings up north. He had purchased it with the money he had won from his share of everything when his marriage to Ninna had split up two years ago. He had always encouraged his children to come stay, and after visiting, Nala decided that there was something special about Harper Rock and agreed to get a place a little closer to Ray in her second year.
Nala was desperately working towards her dream of becoming a Marine Biologist, though she wasn’t looking forward to the trips out her class was trying to plan to study some of the streams and coastline; it was way too cold and she remembered reading about a body that had washed up just last week. A little shiver shook the woman as she made a dash across the street where one of the corner streetlamps wasn’t working, leaving the road a little darker than she liked.

The university was bright and welcoming. It felt two degrees warmer upon walking through the front gates, though that could have just been the relief that saw her shoulders relax as she felt a lot more comfortable inside than out. Nala headed east to where she would find the dorms and stuck to the path after last night’s little accident on the grass where she had slipped, thrown all her books sky-high, damaged her favourite laptop and ruined what had been a perfectly good pair of jeans.
The tall, flossy haired woman was just rounding the bend towards the home stretch when she saw a shape on the lawn. Nala stopped and tried to get a better look when she realised it was a person. Her heart-rate slowed back down a little and she approached the woman who seemed to be star-gazing. “It’s bloody freezing out here, are you insane?” Words delivered with a little chuckle.
“I have hot chocolate and raspberry-chews inside if you would like to come in?” Her good nature would probably get her into trouble one day, though Nala also liked to think that she was a bit of an expert when it came to telling ‘good character’ from bad.

“It’s bloody freezing out here, are you insane?”

It was a voice she didn't recognize, but that really didn't come as much of a surprise considering she barely knew anyone in this city yet. Yeah, she had made friends with several of her classmates, a few professors and counselors, but that was really about it. And she wasn't sure that the majority of them even counted as friends, but more like acquaintances. To be brutally honest, Nirmala Ardiyanti really didn't have anyone around here that she could call a friend.

Back home there had been a group of six or seven of them, always laughing and joking, going out to parties and having wild, random, spontaneous fun. But here, things were very different. That wasn't to say her nights would always be so desolate, leaving her almost wishing she could hop on a plane and run back to the familiar streets of Jakarta. Now, however, that kind of of situation seemed so far out of her grasp that it was not even close to being a laughing matter.

And then there was this chick.

Nir blinked, pushing her weight up onto her wrists as she moved to sit up so that she could put a face to the voice. Dark eyes took their sweet little time in surveying the woman in question, up and down and right back up. There was just so much to look at. From those fur boots to the skinny jeans to the wool and super thick scarf combination. This girl looked like she was straight out of some clothing advertisement, the token black chick with fair skin. That wasn't exactly a bad thing. Hell, as far as Nirmala was concerned it was a very good thing.

After giving her own wardrobe a quick glance, she realized it probably was kind of weird to just be laying around the grass at night in temperatures where it was cold enough to snow in nothing but a fleece-lined long sleeve and some high-waist denim. She did have on a leather jacket, though. Surely that counted. And there were her black leather boots. So what if they weren't fur-lined and screaming UGGs; they were classics. But to tell the truth, now that it had been brought to her attention, the cold really was starting to get to her. Under that grey tunic, her skin was riddled with tiny little bumps.

"Hot chocolate and raspberry chews." She repeated the offer slowly, almost turning it into a question with the way she turned on the intonation toward the end of the sentence.

With a shake of her head, the new kid on the block started to laugh under her breath. And here her mother was worried she would the one to get into trouble for being too nice, too trusting of other people. It was hilarious to her. She climbed up onto her feet, more graceful than one might expect, and began to brush the backside of her jeans off. There wasn't much to brush off, but it had become annoying apparent that she was in need of a new pair of pants. Served her right for not thinking her little star-gazing activity through. It was just common sense that if you laid in wet grass, you were bound to get wet.

"You don't even know me. I think that makes you the insane one between the two of us." Her fingers buried themselves as deep as possible in the cold dry of her jacket pockets, numbing the longer they stood conversing. "For all you know, this is my gimmick. The innocent little play I put on to trick unsuspecting girls, like yourself, into inviting me to their rooms for something to eat before I steal all their valuables." Paused. "Seriously though, raspberry chews?" Her look said it all. That was the weirdest 'dinner' invitation she had ever received in her entire life. Nirmala laughed, this time loud enough for the other female to share in the mirth, if she wanted.