A/N: Hey Guys! Here's our new chapter! I really hope you like it! Thanks to: izziet and Snow Whites Poison Kiss for reviewing. It was much appreciated!
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I vaguely remembered getting helped out of the car, and being shuffled over to my bedroom. I was thankful that I had recently cleaned my room so there was nothing on the floor that I could trip over. I was quite sure I had fell asleep before my head hit the pillow; and I again woke up in a dark room. I couldn't hear any signs of anyone being up and when I bent a few blinds to look through them it looked like it was the middle of the night.
My headache was now only really minor, not even a headache really. It was more like an uncomfortable pressure in my head; and so I saw no reason to wake up Mum and my siblings.
I got up from my bed and quietly crept across to the kitchen, where I poured myself a glass of water. I swallowed a few mouthfuls and opened the drawer where Mum kept all of her medical stuff like band-aids, flu tablets and... Aha! Headache pills.
I took the box and popped two tablets out as per the instructions for a sixteen year old, and then put the box back in the drawer, bumping it closed with my hip.
I picked up the glass and went to take a swig and then swallow the tablets.
'I wouldn't do that,' said a voice in my mind.
I stumbled, the glass falling from my hand and smashing onto the bench. I would have fallen over hard if I hadn't gripped the edge of the bench. However the spilled water made it feel slippery, and my hands slid off the bench and I fell on the floor on my butt, thankfully not inducing a coma this time.
All of this made a loud racket and I wasn't surprised when the lights flicked on and Mum came rushing into the room. From another doorway the twins appeared, rubbing their eyes sleepily. Any other day my mum would have been mad that I had woken up the twins, but now her eyes were filled only with concern for me.
"What happened?" she asked worriedly, shooing the twins off to bed.
"I was getting… a glass of water," I said frowning, as I saw that the pills had disappeared, "and I fell. On my butt, nothing to worry about," I said taking in her worried expression.
The glass hadn't completely smashed and there were only big pieces, easy enough to throw in the bin without cutting yourself. I threw them in the bin after reassuring Mum that I was fine, and mopped up the water with a tea towel, before going back to bed.
'Hello?' I thought tentatively when I was back in bed. There was no response.
Well now I'm talking to myself. It's only a matter of time before I go completely insane.
'Oh Gene, you're not insane,' the voice reassured me. It wasn't very reassuring as I was hearing this voice in my head. I jumped but as I was in bed this didn't have the same effect it did when I was holding a glass.
'So you ignore me when I say hello, and then speak, commenting on thoughts that you're eavesdropping on. That's polite,' I thought. 'And how do you know my name?'
The voice chuckled to itself. 'You are hearing my voice in your head, and you ask me how I know your name,' it said in amusement.
'Don't patronize me,' I thought, though secretly I admitted to myself that he was right. (The voice was definitely a male's voice)
'I am right,' it said.
I had a creepy voice in my head that could read my mind.
I pulled a pillow over my head. "Ugh, go away!" I muttered. It chuckled again.
'You can't get rid of me that easily. And I would advise you to talk to me inside your mind so people don't think you're going mad,' said the voice.
'It's the middle of the night; I don't think many people will be up to hear me talk to myself,' I pointed out.
'No, but it would be wise to get into the habit," the voice said.
'What? Does that mean you are planning to stay in my head for a long amount of time?!' I thought furiously. The voice didn't reply, it just chuckled, fading into silence.
I rolled over onto my side and lay there for half an hour or so until I was finally able to sleep.
When I got up the next morning it took a lot of convincing to get my mum to let me go to school so soon after the accident. She finally conceded, and I got changed into casual clothes to go to school in. I winced as I looked in the mirror.
There was a huge dark purpley black bruise on the side of my head, the side where it wouldn't be covered by my fringe.
She didn't let me walk to the bus stop though, and she dropped me off there. As I got out of the car and waved to my mum as she sped off I was painfully aware of all the eyes staring at the bruise. I sat down on the seat and started to read a story, ignoring them.
The bus trip passed in a blur and I was thankful of the absence of any voices in my head. I had convinced fifty percent of myself that I had been imagining the voice, but I still partly felt that it wasn't imagined.
I entered the locker rooms, and waited for a patch of clear space to get to my locker. I accidentally jostled one person, and they turned, probably to yell at me, or something. But I saw their eyes fix on the bruise and they opened their mouth but didn't say anything. I didn't start a fight and instead just got my stuff out of the locker, and went to the classroom, waiting for the bell to ring and signal that it was time for form assembly.
The day was just as foggy as it had been the last time I was at school, and I was tense until the teacher came and I entered the classroom. It was really warm in the classroom, a stark contrast to the chilly weather outside which had chilled me through my leather jacket.
The teacher called roll, and I was just about to drift off and daydream when the teacher calling my name brought me back to attention.
"Yes Mr. Birksley?" I asked.
"You have been absent for two days. Do you have a note?" he asked.
I felt confused. Surely Mum had contacted the school, you know telling them I had been in a flipping COMA? The teacher's accusing glare made me feel angry.
"Sorry Mr. Birksley, but as I have been in a coma my mother spent more time worrying about my life," I said, pointedly pushing my hair behind me ear, emphasizing my bruise.
The class broke out in whispers; apparently this piece of gossip hadn't circulated yet. I thought I heard a familiar chuckle, but I pushed the uneasy feeling aside, firmly telling myself it was a guy in the class.
The tips of Mr. Birksley's ear went red, and he didn't pursue the matter.
I kept up with everyone as we went to class, the memory of what had caused me to be distracted and trip still vivid in my mind.
The first four periods of the day were uneventful, and I had begun to feel normal for the first time in twenty-four hours. When it came to lunch I bought some junk food from the canteen, and sat down at a table by myself, almost forgetting about the bruise on my forehead.
Some people started whispering and one of them pointed at me. 'Way to be discreet,' I thought and glared at her. She giggled and said something her friend who giggled as well. I was about to flip them off when someone spoke from behind me.
I probably would have jumped anyway, but I had heard the voice before. In my head.
"Hello," they said and I jumped, my hand accidentally knocking over my can of
Coke, spilling soft drink everywhere.
"Crap, crap, crap," I said to myself, jumping out of the way before it could get on my jeans - baggy ones today, and getting napkins off the table to mop up the liquid with. All the while he just stood there, not doing anything to help.
"You have a habit of knocking over the closest drink whenever you hear me," he said as I marched past him chucking the sodden napkins in the bin.
When I returned to the table he had seated himself in the chair next to mine, studying his hands.
I hated to admit it to myself but he was good looking. His black hair was slightly shorter than mine, and it fell into his eyes, which were a rich caramel brown. He had long eyelashes and his face resembled paintings of angels by the masters.
He was slightly built, but it was obvious that he had hard lean muscles under his black t -shirt.
'Why thank you,' his voice said in my head. I sat down at the table and pulled my paper plate over to me, and smacked his hand away as he reached for a chip on it.
"What the hell are you doing in my head?' I hissed in an undertone. He laughed and I felt my anger intensify.
"Hearing voices? You know they say that's the first sign of insanity," he said mockingly, out loud and in my head as well. I gritted my teeth.
"Firstly, it's talking to yourself that's the first sign, secondly, answer me you idiot, and thirdly-" I punched him in the jaw, and his head snapped back.
He twisted his head back, as if the punch hadn't done anything. "That would have been a good punch if I could be harmed by a human," he said, surveying me interestedly.
"What the hell are you doing in my head?!" I exclaimed under my breath. He cocked his head, as if amused by my anger, but answered me.
"I think you already know that I'm not human Gene," he said.
"No shit Sherlock," I said.
"I am what you would call a vampire," he said smiling and I shivered even though there wasn't anything abnormal about his teeth.
"And you need to invade my mind to drink my blood?" I asked skeptically.
"I feed on your spiritual energy, rendering you catatonic before drinking the blood that flows through your veins," he said.
"And why haven't you 'fed on my spiritual energy'?" I asked sure that I would feel something like that.
"Yes you would feel that, although the sensation isn't like what you think it would be," he said his mental voice and real voice speaking in unison.
"Would you stop reading my mind and talking in unison?" I asked.
"I was going to feed on your spiritual energy, but I was curious. You are different from my usual victims," he said not acknowledging that I had spoken, although he didn't speak in unison.
"How am I any different from your usual victims?" I asked. It was a weird sensation, speaking with someone who was going to kill you.
"Their minds aren't as bright as yours. They are not as well defended. You dress like them," he said.
I laughed. "You feed exclusively on emo's? Why?"
"Their minds are not as well defended as yours," he said. "It was not your injury causing your coma. Your mind was too busy to run because it was defending you against me," he explained.
"And how do you get out of my head if you aren't going to eat me?" I asked.
"I have never tried to go out of a mind that I haven't devoured. I don't know how."
"What?! So you're just stuck in my head for all of my life?!" I exclaimed.
"Even if I knew how, I wouldn't have left your mind yet. I am still curious," he said calmly.
"And when will your curiosity be satisfied?" I asked in exasperation.
"Are you so sure you want me to be satisfied?" he asked, and I looked at him in confusion. "I know one way to escape your mind, and it isn't very pleasant for you," he clarified "You should be thankful that I am so curious, for I have no qualms about consuming your spirit energy."
I fiddled with my straw and ate a chip as I thought how to respond to that. I wondered idly about how to train a vampire. He growled at me when I began wondering if I could tweak some dog training methods.
'Uh uh. Bad boy. Now sit. Stay. Roll over,' I said in my mind, amused when his features twisted into a scowl.
"Be glad of your amusement little girl," he said. "You won't have it much longer."
"Little girl? You must be around the same age as me!" He sighed.
"What do your myths say about vampires?" he asked me. I looked at him and gasped.
"Th-they're, you're immortal?" I asked.
"Yep," he said, casually leaning back against the chair folding his arms above his head and smirking at me. I tried hard to concentrate on what he was saying, and not how freaking hot he was. I wasn't succeeding.
"You're drooling," he said, still smirking at me.
"Ha ha, very funny," I said dryly.
"Yes, I thought so," he said and I resisted the urge to hit him again, knowing it would result in my pain, not his.
"So, how old actually are you?" I asked, wondering if he was Count Dracula. He snorted.
"Nothing that old, I was turned around fifty years ago," he said.
"Turned?" I said squashing my unease at having an approximately seventy years old man's voice in my head.
"Vampirism is hereditary, or you can be turned," he said. He smirked at me, and leant over so his mouth was next to my ear. "Want to see?" he asked, his voice a seductive murmur. I swallowed, my throat dry.
"N-no!" I stammered pushing him away. He didn't resist. He looked at me as if I was some fascinating bug that he could squish at any time, but he didn't because he couldn't be bothered.
"You don't sound so sure," he said, tilting his head to the side. "Even for a human you are strange," he said. He leaned forward and the skin around his eyes tightened as they narrowed in concentration; and I knew he was looking around in my mind.
I started reciting the alphabet in my head, and he scoffed, relaxing and falling back against the chair with a thump.
"The alphabet Gene. Really?" I bristled.
"If you didn't stop poking around in my mine I wouldn't have to do something to keep you out!" I exclaimed.
He opened his mouth ready to argue but the bell rang as he was about to speak.
"Well then," he said gathering up my plate and chucking it towards the bin; where to my astonishment it landed, not touching the sides. "Until we meet again. Which we will," he added, catching me hoping that we wouldn't meet again.
He got up out of his chair and I pushed mine outwards. He offered a hand to help me up, but I ignored it, getting up by myself. He took my arm anyway, and pulled me up despite my protests. In the momentum he spun me so I was pushed against his rock hard abs, and looking up at his mesmerizing eyes.
"Curious," he murmured, and I shook my head to clear it before stepping out of his grasp.
I walked out of the canteen and looked behind me as I was in the doorway. He was still standing at the table and he smiled wickedly at me. I walked out of the canteen, at a faster pace before. It took all the willpower I had not to run.
I heard his laughter reverberating in my mind as I headed to my next class.
A/N: So far, Shiloh Fernandez is Damon. What do you think of that casting? Who do you think should be Gene? Please Review!