Charlie sat on the subway bench. Her short blonde hair obscured her vision as another bus passed. In her tiny hands, she held a beautiful, red haired porcelain doll. Its curly locks and hand crafted face stood out from the surrounding place.

The small girl of eleven stared straight ahead with lavender eyes, he grip tightening around her doll as a man sat next to her. He was a business man from what she could tell, from his tux and slicked-back hair. The man stared at her strangely; she expected nothing less from him, with her old-fashioned English dress, black-and-white thigh-high socks, and combat boots.

Charlie smiled, scooting slightly towards the older man. He eyed her warily, being precautious of the timid girl.

As another bus passed, and boy clad in an outfit close to Charlie’s appeared across the landing. The man took the hint a stood, ready to leave the station and its weird newcomers.

A tug on his jacket stopped him,” Papa?” It was the little girl,” Are you leaving us Papa?” The grip on his coat tightened. “I don’t want you to leave!” the girl whined, loudly; a pair of abnormally long canines appeared from her pouting pink lips.

The man screamed, as the small girl suddenly attacked his exposed neck. His screams dissipated as her teeth impaled his flesh, right to his artery. She held to the man’s thrashing body, draining it of all bodily fluid.

Charlie pulled away, inhaling. The boy stood behind her, holding fast to her shoulders, as not to loose her.

“Stupid fool,” she muttered, as she kicked the stilled body.

“You mustn’t be so cruel to them, after all they’ve just died,” the older boy reminded her. He faced her and wiped the blood from her chin,” You can be such a messy child sometimes.”

She clutched his hand as they headed out of the tunnel. As the walked out Charlie began to sing,” Cinderella dressed in yella went downstairs to kiss a fella, made a mistake and kissed a snake, how many vampires did they stake?” She giggled the sound echoing loudly through the darkness.

…

Charlie sat on the balcony, in the aged apartment. Sheran’s head rested in her lap as she braided his honey blonde strands.

“I swear,” she said, emphasizing the words. “You’re the only boy I’ve known in my three hundred years of living who’s ever let me braid his hair.” She amused herself by twirling his hair between her tiny fingers.

“Yes, and you’re the only girl in my fifteen years of living who still carries around a doll,” he teased.

“Shannon is not a doll!” Charlie replied, offended.” She’s my best friend and my favorite person!”

Sheran sat up and put his hand over his heart,” That hurts me Charlie. That hurts me right here,” he stood dramatically.

She smiled at her defeat. Sheran tackled Charlie, sending her into a fit of giggles as he tickled her torso. She squealed loudly and Sheran pulled back knowing she’d had enough torture for the moment. Charlie sighed, gasping for a bit of air. Sheran ruffled her hair, she took the chance to try and take her revenge. She failed as he gave her a peck on the cheek. Charlie flushed and sat, dumbfounded, as Sheran walked away, laughing heartily.

He knew her weakness.

…

Sheran sat on his bed, twisting his shirt with his fingers. He gasped for air and pushed his face into his hands.

“What’s wrong with me?” he sighed.

He was always doing things like that; giving those little bits of romantic affection. It had to be the sibling relation they had.

Truly they weren’t related by any means, Charlie just happened to call him Big Brother most of the time.

He leaned back, resting flat on his bed. Sheran stared at the crumbling ceiling, trying to jog a memory.

…

Sheran sprinted into the safety of an alleyway as the rain started. He stood under the protection of an old roof. A cardboard box sat in the darkness, the rain water washing off the top. Being the curious boy he was, Sheran decided to check it out. As he slowly edged toward the box, he heard the whimpers of a child. He slightly opened the side of the box, being careful, so as not to frighten whatever was inside.

Sheran stared, a small girl sat inside. The girl gasped, as she spotted him, pushing herself farther into the corner of the large box. The frightened look on her face brought Sheran back into reality.

“Don’t be scared,” he said calmly, reaching out his hand. “I’m going to help you,” he reassured her.

Quickly she scrawled out watching all the while. And just as fast, she clamped to his middle, squeezing tightly. Taken aback, Sheran composed himself and patted the crying girl on the head.

…

The two children snuck into the orphanage; Sheran pushed the girl into his bedroom. He closed the door quickly behind him. Tiny as the girl was, she’d had the strength to cling to him the entire way.

Now she looked up at him with her large eyes. She had to be but a year younger than him he noticed. She had strange purple eyes, and blonde hair like dried hay or beach sand.

Foot steps were heard coming down the hallway. Sheran pushed the girl into his closet. He tied to close the door, but the girl’s grip on him wouldn’t let up.

“Sheran? Are you here?” it was the mistress.

He quickly closed the closet door behind him and pushed a pile of clothes over them. The blonde girl started making noises of protest, Sheran did the only thing he could think of to shut her up at the moment; he kissed her. It wasn’t one of those pecks on the cheek, no. It was a full-on, lips to lips kiss. Sheran pulled back, knowing full well that his face was flushed, horribly. He’s just given away his first kiss.

They ran down the stairs, as fast as their tiny feet could carry them. They arrived in the kitchen.

“Quick!” Sheran rushed the girl. “Hide in the cabinet!”

The girl shook her head, holding tightly to her doll, that strangely Sheran hadn’t noticed until now.

“I know you hate the dart! But you do not want to be found!” he panicked, as he closed her in the small, wooden space.

Loud footsteps could be heard coming down the old stairs. The door burst open and in the mistress.

“Dangit Sheran! What’re you hiding in that cupboard?!” the mistress questioned.

The mistress pushed Sheran into another cupboard, and pulled the girl from her hiding space. As the mistress pulled at the girl’s hair, the blonde started to cry, frightened.

“You stupid little brat! First you bring in a stray, then you go and lie to me!” the mistress slapped Sheran.

A small trickle of blood came from his mouth as he stood.

The tiny girl’s body trembled, but not from crying, she was laughing. Her laughs were becoming hysterical; the mistress let her go, as if she were the spawn of Satan. The blonde stared at the older woman, her eyes glazed over.

“You’re a very idiotic woman,” she said, smiling, canine’s glowing in the dim light.

As the blonde headed girl let go of the woman, she backed away. When she hit the wall, she slid down as if she were in shock.

“Oh god!” the girl trembled. She started to cry once more,” I did it again!”

Sheran backed into the cabinet, knocking over a bottle. The girl looked up; tears were smeared all over her puffy cheeks. Slowly she crawled towards him, but paused when he flinched.

“Big Brother? Are you scared of me too Big Brother?” the tiny girl asked, her eyes filled with tears again. “I’m sorry. I was a bad girl,” the girl cried, into her doll’s curly, red hair. Again she looked up, hoping for a slight answer. “I promise,” she paused. “I promise I won’t do it again Big Brother! Please don’t be mad at me! It’s very horrible when Big Brother is mad at Charlie!”

That’s when Sheran found out what the tiny girl’s name was, Charlie.

“I-Is that your name,” Sheran stuttered. “Charlie?”

Charlie looked up at the boy who was talking to her. She wiped the last amount of tears from her eyes, and nodded.

“Well Charlie, I guess we’ll just have to run away from her ‘kay?” he said with a slight smile.

Charlie stared up at Sheran with curiosity, curiosity turned to happiness when she realized he was no longer angry at her. She jumped forward slightly and hugged him with great effort. Sheran hugged her back, then realizing he still had blood on his face; he licked it, tasting the copper-metallic essence.

“Big Brother?” Charlie voice sang in his ears. “I love you.”

…

Sheran woke from his dream, flushed. He sat in his bed; it’d been three years since that’d happened. Charlie had stayed the same age, but she’d become fairly mature compared to others like her. Sheran had just come to the realization he was now four years older than her. His life was becoming more Lolita-complex like by the minute.

He was so frustrated, he would grow old, and Charlie would never see a day past eleven. Sheran punched the wall, pulling away quickly he cursed himself under his breath, for forgetting the wall was brick. The skin had been scrapped off his knuckles, they were bleeding.

“Big Brother?!” Charlie yelled through the almost empty apartment. She walked into his room,” Are you okay? I heard a bang and then you cursed.”

Sometimes her hearing worried him.

Right as Charlie spotted his hand she covered her nose. He knew the stench of blood was too much for her, but right now he had more important matters to bring up with her. Sheran walked up to Charlie, putting a hand on each side of her face, she flinched at his touch, but maybe it was from the stench of the blood on his hand. She started to pant, hungry from the smell.

“Charlie, Charlie I need you to do something for me,” he said trying to gain her attention.

The poor girl was having trouble keeping herself in a normal state. Her eyes were starting to glaze over and her pointed teeth were seemingly growing slightly. Sheran shook her, shaking her from her vampiric state.

“Charlie I need you to transform me into a vampire,” he said; Charlie stared at Sheran, her lips trembling.