my name is

angel.

but not like the angels that

fly

or save lives or

whisper to God.

i think

my mom was tired

and sick and groggy

when she named me.

pregnant ladies are like that.

maybe she was just

muttering

to herself.

and she was tired

and sick

and groggy

and she didn't want to curse so

she just said stuff like

'oh lord'

and 'oh angels'

and that's how i was

named.

we don't talk much

now.

i remember sometimes when i was little

i would want her to tell me stories and pat my head and make me feel

loved

like in all the movies

i liked to watch.

but she'd just sigh and mutter

'baby, i'm tired'

and i'd watch her for a while

and then i'd leave.

i never felt like

her angel.

but i guess

that's okay.

i've learned now

not to believe in fairy tales.

i still like movies

though.

i think i want

to be a filmaker.

and i'll make my own movies

with my own characters

and my own plot

and it'd be more real,

like the life i remember,

but i'd make sure it'd have

a happy ending.

because for once,

i'd have the power to make one.

--

it's nice out today.

i look around

and around

and i feel like i'm spinning

but i'm not.

i hate how kids sit together

in little circles

as if showing me how i

can never fit

into their rings

of laughing people.

i like to think i

don't care

but i kind of think

i like to lie

too.

there's one spot

i sit at every day

to escape the circles and tables and

couples

but today

there's someone

in it.

there's a boy

with white hair

and black eyes

sitting

beneath my tree.

he's not eating

just

sitting

and staring

at nothing.

so i decide

to go over

anyways.

when i sit down next to him he takes his time

turning his head

to look at me.

he has an asian face

with pale skin

and smooth bones

but his eyes

are round

and beautiful.

he blinks slowly

and i nod, setting my lunch out

in front of me.

"not eating?"

he takes a few

long moments

before answering.

"i don't need to eat"

i take a bite into my apple

and the the juice

fills my mouth

with sweetness.

"is that so?"

he's probably

some anorexic

guitarist

in some band.

he looks the part,

i guess.

he's pretty-faced,

skinny skinny,

and i like

his eyes.

but i already said that,

didn't i.

he stares at me for a while but eventually looks away,

gazing blindly into the cloudless

sky.

"i'm a vampire.

vampire's don't need food"

i raise a brow, feeling the

cold

of the shining

apple

in my hand.

"you're crazy"

"i'm not"

he's biting

his lip.

his teeth are normal,

straight,

white.

doesn't look like

a vampire

to me.

"so, do you drink blood

or something?"

he shrugs his bone shoulders

and closes his eyes.

"no. i don't think i'm

ready yet"

i take

another bite

of my apple.

"what do you eat

then?"

"nothing. i told you.

i don't

need to"

i shake my head, leaning back

onto my elbows.

"that's called

anorexia"

"it's not. not when

you're a

vampire"

his silvery bangs

kiss lightly across

soft eyelids.

it looks almost like

he's sleeping.

"even a vampire

needs to eat,

though.

and if you're really a vampire,

why don't you drink

blood?"

he shrugs

again.

"because i don't want

to get

addicted,

i guess"

i wonder if he

thinks he's

normal.

"you're very

weird"

i touch the fresh side

of my apple

gently

against his lips.

"it's red.

close enough,

don't you think?"

after a moment

he nibbles lightly on the sweet skin,

a tiny stream of juice

trickling down his chin.

"not really. but i guess,

for now,

it's okay"

his tongue flicks lightly over the white

inside

and he tilts his head

away.

i guess

he's finished

then.

i think i like him,

this asian boy with

white hair

and big eyes

who believes

that he's

a vampire.

"you're like

a character in

a movie.

should a make you

an actor

then?"

he smiles softly

and i wonder vaugely

what his name is.

"no. i told you,

i'm a vampire.

vampires can't act,

silly"

i shrug,

looking over his face.

"that's right.

i almost

forgot"