The hand touches my soul and caress my heart like a mother touchy a beautiful fragile new-born baby. Like a precious one of a kind diamond. I am born again.
I see a piano grin and dark shadow of a person. I am at awe.
“What’s up Dawg? Yo V-Man,” Chris says.
I grab him as if a long-lost person has been found after years of searching. It is great to see the crazy ass fake gangsta an idiot, but he was here. He was here to see me and to comfort my soul with fresh blood wine.
It is strange and funny in a way. Vamps and my kind drink blood, but when I smell the blood of a Normal, my thoughts bring me to tears of joy and comfort. I feel at peace. I don’t know, why? Maybe it’s because we drink our wine like normal elegant people as the vamps drink like disgusting roaches feeding on garbage.
Shoot, there I go again. I am a monster or hybrid or whatever you want to call me. I want this disgusting vamp disease out of my body. I wish I can bleed or stuck it out.
I lick my lips and my mouth water. Chris hands me my glass as if I am a honored person. I smell the richness of this beautiful nectar and I taste the pureness of the red wine. I am in awe, like a powerful drug which makes my life turn into a wonderland of peace. I sit there and I am at a daze and it was only one taste.
I drink the wine and I feel alive and numb from all the pain and hurt. I am alive and born again, like a junkie in a garbage filled alleyway.
Chris sits down next to me in Normal form. He put his head on my shoulder as if we were lovers.
Bro, I miss you, you know. Yo! Yo! Yo! Gangsta for life, bro,” Chris says as I laugh.
I miss the smart ass dumb witted idiot with his blonde hair to as proof of his stereotype, but the real Chris is a boy who is looking to break the rules of law and the stereotype of his hair.
Aunt Ericka has put harsh rules and laws on us and we have obeyed them like mindless fools without minds. Each family line, needs to follow their roles in life without question even though they want to do something else.
Let me draw you a picture, my family line is Merlin, even though that is not my real father. When Merlin was young, he was great with know the past, living in the present and having a clear understanding of the future. Merlin became a history teacher, of course and he met my mother at the college. Now, their children must be able to know the past, live in the present and have a clear understanding of the future. See, now my mother has destroyed our little family by having me. I don’t know if I should follow the footsteps of the man who raised me and become a cockroach like my real father. I have lost my path and I don’t know what to do.
In a way, I should be happy because I was never any good at telling the future and having faith in an unknown God who I could not see. In reality, I miss the structure and the crazy because that is all I knew. All I knew was the please my parents and be in harmony with my brothers and sisters, even though I didn’t believe in the craziness of history or crystal balls. I played along like an actor in impromptu.
Chris’s father is Clive, who’s the youngest of all the brothers and sisters in the family. I believe Uncle Clive has more wisdom than Aunt Ericka. The Clive family line deals art; which means being an artist, actor, director, sport figure, writer, musician or anything that will put you in the limelight of fame.
Aunt Ericka and his advisor have pushed him into sports more than normal lately and he hates it. He loves football, but only as a hobby. Since his parents have worked overseas to rebuild their new identities, Chris and K have been under the thumb of the precious Queen Aunt Ericka. Day in and day out, she forces him on the right path, but maybe this is not the right path for him.
Sometimes, we live in a person’s dream that needs to make that dream a reality. Each person has their own reality. If a father is a well-known doctor, should the son be a well-known doctor too or should the son follow his own path?
We all walk on our own yellow brick road to success. The yellow brick road may cross paths with our family, but regardless, it is still our own path and our burden to bare. For me, I am walking on a yellow brick road in the middle of a dark curse forest. I don’t know what else to do.
One thing though, Chris and I are sitting on the floor as our heads touch. No talking and no moving. Sitting with my pain in the neck cousin is like an in-depth conversation with excitement. Our eyes meet and then we stare at the walls. We know. We know. We know.
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