Walking down a short white hall with a large, old, leather bound book clinging to my chest, I listen to my shallow breathing. This place I know it well but the name and memories are lost to me at the moment. I stop in the middle of the hall and turn towards a white door with a little numbered plaque nailed to the front of it. Hesitantly I reach my hand out for the old dented doorknob and slowly turn it and open the door.

The inside of this room is nothing to exciting but it makes me feel safe. Nothing in here but two bunch beds, my old trunk, two windows and a mirror painted with dirt. I walk into the middle of the white room and fall to the floor with the book still held fast to my breast. I lay there staring at the wood ceiling humming to my self a song I should know but that too escapes my mortal mind. I close my eyes and imagine my angel holding me tight and whispering words of never ending love into my ears. A single tear falls slowly down my cheek, leaving a trail easy to see. Even though I may feel safe within these walls I still feel loneliness within my heart.

In a moments rush the door opens and the figure of a teenage boy stands tall in the doorframe. I know him, but his name is unknown to me, all I know is the pain he has caused me. Now my emotions are fighting between the feelings of protection this place is feeding me and the fear of pain from this unknown boy. I scatter to my knees and fall back towards the far wall, the book still held tightly to my shaking breast.

"What a pathetic little whore!" The boy shouts to me with disgust written across his face. What right does this boy have to call me that horrible lie? My left hand begins to tingle and I pull it away from my chest and stare at it. It is no longer a fragile human hand but half way between the claw of a panther and my original hand. The nails turn to claws and beautiful black fur lightly dusts my hand moving up my arm and disappearing under my black tank top. I drop the book and look at my other hand, it is the same as my left and something new inside me takes over.

My hair, once a dyed red now is jet black and falls into my eyes but I can still see this human boy clearly. A growl emits from deep within my throat. I can feel sharp fangs press against my lower lip as I close my mouth. I spring forward and lung straight for this boy's throat. All he can do is scream while I rip his throat out with my bare hands. I sink my teeth into his chest and begin clawing at his body. My tongue lapses up the boy's blood hungrily. As the crimson liquid rushes down my throat I feel refreshed and free.

I sit down with my back against one of the bed frames and I admire my work. My clawed hands are drenched with blood and it feels good. I bring my pointer finger to my mouth and lick the blood off and my tongue goes to each finger then the palm of my hand. After I'm finished cleaning off both of my hands and face I can't help but laugh. But the strange thing is I've never heard such a laugh escape my lips before. The laugh is brutal and malicious. The old me is dead and the new me has been born.

I stand up and walk over to my forgotten book. Kneeling down I pick it up and hold it in my blood soared hands. Suddenly the pages begin to turn with great speed and do not stop until I close the book my self. It is trying to tell me something but I could care less right now.

I stand up tall and walk out of the room, kicking the boy's mutilated body as I go by. Out in the hall I walk towards the back, which leads to my favorite spot, the back staircase, hidden and not known to most. A memory races across my eyes and I cannot help but smile.

A boy with black hair and handsome jade green eyes sits in front of me talking about something or another. His smile is warming and beautiful and all I can think about is kissing those lovely pink lips. But something is stopping me and I do not know why. He turns to me and smiles, which causes me to melt and smile back. I can do nothing but listen and talk when I have something worth saying to put forth.

The memory ends and leaves my heart aching with loneliness and pain. I venture forward to the stairs and down a few steps. There he is the man of my memory sitting there, looking at nothing in particular and sighing heavily. I gasp loudly, shocked to say the least that he, a boy I know well but not at all is sitting in front of me. He quickly turns around smiling brightly at me like it was I who he was waiting for. But he catches the sight of the blood covering me and looks towards my left hand, which holds the leather bound book. His eyes travel back up to mine but this time they're not bright but sad with tears ready to break free and flow down his heavenly soft skin.

His soft lips mouth one word over and over again, "why?" I don't know what he means by why but seeing him like this sparked an animal lust with in my body. I slowly bend over and place the book down on the top step and turn towards him. Seductively I walk ever slowly, ever so slowly, towards him smiling a sinister cruel smile. He holds up his hand and covers his mouth with it.

I turn my head and let my jet-black hair fall in front of my eyes as I begin to hum a slow enchanting song. I sway my hips and move ever closer. He looked me straight in the eye and gently placed a hand on my cheek and with his thump wiped off a bit of blood. I look into his eyes, where loitered unshed tears.

"Taste it," I whisper. I take his hand and lick his thump, bringing it into my mouth and lightly sucking on it, biting it before letting it go. I gently sweep my finger over my chest, picking up enough blood to taste, and then tracing it on his lips. He opens them slightly and allows my finger in. I feel his tongue wrapping around my finger and licking it clean of any blood. I take my finger back and lick it once seductively before running my fingers through his hair.

In a sudden burst of movement I pin him up to the wall and look him straight into his eyes. His wrists as held tight within my left hand and my right is exploring his chest. "Scream for me" I sigh. I dig my nails into his skin quickly feeling that warm liquid yet again caress my flesh. He throws his head back, closing his eyes, hiding those beautiful eyes from my view and screams.

I wake up with a start and look around for a clue as to what just happened. In a moments time my mind clicks and I register it was a dream, just a dream. But I could still feel his breath on my face and his warm body beneath mine. I could still feel that unknown boy's blood smeared onto my skin and how it felt to rip his throat out with my bare hands. I could still feel all of it and I wanted more. But this time I wanted his blood all over my body, the boy with the jade green eyes.

A.N. This is the only one of my writings that I actually like. I don't know why, probably because I'm sick and twisted and I described my dream perfectly. And yes I actually had this dream down to the last detail. And for those who know who the jade green-eyed boy is-shush! He's not going to find out.