I never quite fit their perfect little mold for a daughter. I couldn’t make the grades, wouldn’t take the dance lessons, and never knew when to keep my mouth shut. Big deal, so I played in the yard and got my dress all dirty. Big deal, so I asked the priest why I saw him over at the neighbor’s house when her husband was at work. Big deal. You would think I tried to kill someone. “That’s not how a young lady acts, Barbara Jean.” Like I care. So my parents never found me acceptable, the boys did.

I got invited to all the parties and had more friends that my perfect sister ever had. Everybody loved the party girl. Hell, I even played football with the guys. I got invited to all the parties, all of them. I could drink all the guys under the table. The girls, well, the girls hated me of course because the guys loved me. We had tons of fun. Yeah, that kind of fun. I even broke up the prom king and queen. Of course the bastard didn’t take me to the prom so I guess it was only fair. No, I drove around all night bawling my friggin eyes out while he took her to the friggin prom. Damn near drove in the path of a truck. Not that anyone would have noticed. Well they might have noticed when I was dancing on top of the table at the next party. Anyways, I was quite the party girl as they say. Until after that night. I didn’t go to college, didn’t have the grades, but I was a mainstay at the frat house parties. I had a great time that night, well what I can remember of it. Now, looking back, I wish I hadn’t gone. See that was the night I got…herpes. I didn’t even know it until months later. This guy came to my house. He was ranting and raving that I gave him the clap and I was a whore and everything, right in front of my parents! My dad insisted I go to this doctor and he told me it was herpes, not the clap. What’s the difference? No cure! I get this friggin venereal disease and there’s no cure for it. And worse yet, I gave it to someone. Lots of someones. I’m not even sure how many. I thought I’d die.

At first it was the humiliation. My parents knew. Soon all the party goers knew. I didn’t get many invitations after that. Then I wished I would die. My life was over. So I took a handful of my mothers Percodan. My sister found me and they had my stomach pumped. The doctor’s said I was lucky, I say more like cursed. Then they threw me into this mental institution. Well now I didn’t want to kill myself. This damn place would do it for me! This place was a mass of germs! That’s where I was first acutely aware of catching something. God knows I couldn’t live with anything more than what I already have to deal with. I washed my hands a lot. I was careful about who was in my things and who used my bathroom. Sounds stupid? Maybe to you! But you don’t know. You don’t have to live with it, forever.

That’s when that strange doctor started coming around on his night rounds. At first he was just checking on everyone, that’s what he said. Doing rounds. No one else did it though. When I called him on it, he just smiled. “You’re not crazy, not yet,” he would say. Sounded weird to me. I kept a close eye on him, and he on me. He told me that he could help me, really help me. Not like those pansy doctors who wanted me to tell them all my deepest darkest secrets and the details of my toilet training. No, this guy said that feelings of revenge was normal, even healthy in some cases. Said that I could work through my problems in a different way. Said he could get me out of this god awful place. I took him up on his deal. Good thing I didn’t know what I was getting into.

The rat bastard killed me. Yeah, I know, I shouldn’t talk that way about my sire and all. And I gotta admit, it was empowering, in a perverted sorta way. Turns out, I wasn’t as savage as he thought I should be. He was into this ginsu surgery shit. Dissection by machete. God! I’m not that sick. I hate him, he hates me. That’s dear old dad for ya. Why can’t you ever pick your parents? But the ginsu thing’s not why I hate him, nah. I can forgive him that. The bastard made me a freak for life, or unlife. I can’t even feed like everyone else. I friggin infect my prey. Germs. More friggin germs! What else can I catch? What else am I gonna give to everyone else? Jesus Christ! I’ve had enough! I gotta be so careful. I gotta disinfect everything! And the rituals, oh my god, how germ laden! I mean I want to do the vauldary and everything, but the germs with sharing a cup! Do you people have any friggin clue??? So what kind of diseases do vampires get? Who friggin knows? I haven’t the slightless idea and I’m not taking a chance.

Lucky? I don’t think so. I’m dead, germ plagued and my friggin daddy hates me. Does that sound like lucky to you? People like me when they think that they can use me or get something off me. I’m not sure whether to go with it or tell them all to take a hike. A little of both, I guess. I get along with most of my pack mates, for awhile. Some of them seem uneasy around me. I always wonder if they can tell, somehow, that I am tainted, not like the rest of them. Do they know I can’t even eat without spreading the friggin plague? I’ve learned to protect myself over the years. Learned how to shoot a gun and I’m a damn Annie Oakley. I can shoot with both hands even, no small task. Wonder if the Doctor would be proud of that? Probably not. He was afraid of guns. I’ve learned that I’m quite handy when it comes to fixing stuff that’s broken too. Another useless trait by dear old mom’s standards. After all, you hire someone to do those things. To top things off, I’ve been studying the black arts, occult. That should have the priest rolling over in his grave. Or maybe that’s rolling over in someone else’s grave, eh? Unlife’s not so bad. There’s pranks to be had. Parties all night. Sleep all day. Sounds like the good old days to me. If I could just get rid of the germs. And now that SARS thing! No rest for the wicked I guess.

Character Sheet

Updated April 15, 2006

Cyannethayer@yahoo.com