Waking up with a bad headache, waking up as hungry as a bear. Something smashed into my face, or so it felt like it. I rub my neck and discover an incision. No, two perfectly round holes dry with my blood. So hungry but nothing can satisfy me. The mirror reflects a pale stranger.

It's just a spider bite. A really swollen and bruised spider bite.

My brain pounds against my skull. There has to e a way to stop this migraine; fresh air. I step outside and smell the most delicious scent. New and needed, desperately needed, a lonesome runner, so alone and the carrier of the delicious scent. Instincts shoot me in the runner's place in seconds. Without thinking I slam her down. Screams break loose as I rise above her.

I'm not here. I'm not thinking clearly. Then why did I rip her throat out with my teeth? What demon drank that blood and shouted victoriously? This isn't me. This isn't human.

I flee back to the mirror, but I'm met with nothing, absolutely and physically nothing. No reflection, nothing to tell me that I have red stains stuck to my body; no one but my mother to reflect how I look. Shrieks of horror and cringing against the wall, she doesn't recognize me. She recognizes a black eyed, blood thirsty monster.

Not her son. Not her beloved prized jewel.

She clutches a tray and heaves it at me. Burning strikes my cold skin and I see garlic outlining the ground around me. A vegetable burned me? I try to speak calmness into my terrified mother but all she can hear are hisses creeping out of this soulless monster's bloody mouth. Her frantic hands grab the next thing they can get and that unavoidable smell hits me again; waves and tides of succulent need, the need to suck every single blood cell out of this human's living veins.

The demon flies out again and pulls me with it, pulls me towards that delectable odor my mother posses. But a sharp pain finds its way into my chest. My hands race to find the object and feel the splinters. My dark and lost eyes detect the wooden cross protruding from my heart, my unbeating and still thirsty heart. A holy stake that makes my sharp vision go blurry. I stumble back and fall out the door.

Instantly, I go up in flames. I open my eyes and see the enemy looming over me: the sun, scorching the lifeless flesh right off of my bones. The last thing I see is the wooden cross still stuck in my chest and my mother sobbing. And still, I continued to tell myself: It's only a spider bite. That's why I'm ripping throats out and dying from the flames that encase me caused by this orb in the sky. It's just a harmless spider bite. That's why I'm now and just recently was diagnosed as a fantasy.

As a soulless, blood parched vampire.