Craved. Morgan Rice

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Craved - Morgan Rice


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more distant. Her body felt normal now. Had it just been a fleeting moment? Was it just some weird, one-time thing that had overcome her, that would never come back again?

      She desperately wanted to believe that. But another part of her, a deeper part, felt that wasn’t the case. The feeling had been so strong, it had been something she would never forget. If she had succumbed to it, and stayed there one more second, she felt certain Blake would be dead right now.

      Scarlet couldn’t help but think back to the other day. Coming home sick. Running out of the house. Forgetting what had happened, where she had been. Waking up in the hospital. Her mom being so worried, so freaked out…

      Now, it all came to the forefront of her mind. Her mom had wanted her to see more doctors, to get more tests. And then, to see a priest. Did her mom suspect something? Was that what she was hinting at? Did she think that she was becoming a vampire?

      Scarlet’s heart was pounding as she sat there, in her room, curled up in her favorite chair. Ruth stuck her head in her lap, and Scarlet leaned down and stroked her. But there were tears in her eyes as she did. She felt shell-shocked, in a daze. She was terrified at the idea that she was sick, that she had some kind of disease – or maybe, something worse. Deep down she thought it was ridiculous, of course, where her mind was going. But she dared to wonder. Her wanting to bite his neck. The feeling she’d had in her two incisor teeth. Her craving to feed. Was it possible?

      Was she a vampire?

      Did vampires really exist?

      She reached over, opened her laptop, and googled it. She had to know.

      She pulled up the Wikipedia entry for “vampire” and began to read:

      “The notion of vampirism has existed for millennia; cultures such as the Mesopotamians, Hebrews, Ancient Greeks, and Romans had tales of demons and spirits which are considered precursors to modern vampires. However, despite the occurrence of vampire-like creatures in these ancient civilizations, the folklore for the entity we know today as the vampire originates almost exclusively from early 18th-century southeastern Europe, when verbal traditions of many ethnic groups of the region were recorded and published. In most cases, vampires are revenants of evil beings, suicide victims, or witches, but they can also be created by a malevolent spirit possessing a corpse or by being bitten by a vampire.”

      Scarlet quickly shut her laptop and put it away. It was all too much for her to take.

      She shook her head, trying to physically put it out of her mind. Something was definitely wrong with her. But was it that? It terrified her.

      Making all of this even worse were her feelings for Blake, and her thinking of what had just happened between them. She couldn’t believe she had run away from him like that, especially at that moment. They had been having such an amazing time, a dream date. And now this. Finally, just when their relationship was starting to take off. It was so unfair.

      She couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking right now. He must be thinking she’s some kind of freak, some kind of absolute psycho, for her to just jump up like that, in the middle of a kiss, and take off, sprinting into the woods. He must think she was totally out of her mind. She was sure he’d never want to see her again. He’d probably go back to Vivian.

      She desperately wanted to explain herself. But how could she possibly? What could she possibly say? That she had a sudden urge to bite his neck? To feed on him? To drink his blood? That she had to run away to protect him?

      Sure, that would really set his mind at ease, she thought.

      She wanted to make things right. She wanted to see him again. But she had no idea how to explain. Not only that, but she was also afraid to be near him; she didn’t trust herself now. What if the urge overcame her again? And what if, next time, she actually hurt him?

      She burst into tears, thinking about it. Was she doomed to never be around boys again?

      No. She had to try. She had to at least try to make things right. She had to try to explain herself, in some way. If for no other reason so that he didn’t hate her. Even if he never wanted to see her again, she couldn’t just leave things like this. And deep down, a part of her still dared to hope that maybe this was just a one-time thing, a freak episode, and that maybe they could get over this and still be together. After all, if they could get over this, they could get over anything.

      Scarlet was beginning to feel a little better. She wiped away her tears, grabbed a tissue, blew her nose, and took out her cell. She pulled up his number and began to text him.

      Then she stopped. What should she say?

      I’m so sorry for what happened today.

      She deleted that. It was too generic.

      I don’t know what came over me today.

      She deleted that, too. It didn’t sound quite right. She needed the perfect balance, the perfect mixture of apologizing and yet being hopeful that things had not changed forever. She also needed to emphasize what a great time she had up until that point.

      She closed her eyes and sighed, thinking hard. Come on, come on, she willed herself.

      She began to type.

      I had such an amazing time with you today. I’m so sorry it ended the way it did. There was a reason I had to leave like that, but I can’t explain it to you. I know it’s hard to understand, but I hope you can. I just want you to know that I had an awesome time, and I’m sorry. And I hope we can see each other again.

      Scarlet stared at her draft for a long while, then finally reached out, and hit send.

      She watched it go through.

      Her text wasn’t perfect. She already thought of how she could have re-written it in a million ways. And a part of her already regretted sending it. Maybe it sounded too desperate. Maybe it was too cryptic.

      Whatever. It was off. At least now he knew that she still liked him, and that she wanted to see him again.

      She knew that Blake had his cell on him every second of the day. She knew he’d get it right away. And that he always answered his texts within seconds.

      Scarlet trembled as she waited to hear.

      She placed her cell on her lap and closed her eyes, breathing slowly, waiting for a vibration. Willing it to vibrate.

      Come on, she thought. Text me back.

      She sat there, waiting, for what felt like forever. She kept refreshing her phone. After a few minutes, she even powered it off then back on, in case somehow it was jammed. She then watched the clock tick. Two minutes passed.

      Then five.

      Then ten.

      She slammed her phone down on the table, and could feel tears welling up inside again. He clearly wasn’t texting her back. How could she blame him? She probably wouldn’t text herself back either.

      So that was it. It was over.

      Then, suddenly, her phone vibrated.

      She reached over and snatched it off the table.

      But her heart fell to see that it wasn’t Blake. It was Maria.

      I can’t believe u cut class like that. So… how was ur date with Blake?

      Scarlet sighed. She had no idea how to respond.

      Don’t worry. I’m not cutting again. It’s over between us.

      Really? OMG. Why? Vivian?

      No. Not her. It just…

      Scarlet stopped, wondering what to say.

      … didn’t work out.

      Tell me.

      Scarlet sighed. She really wanted to change the subject.

      Nothing to tell. What’s up with u?

      OMG, I can’t stop obsessing about new boy. Sage. Heard fresh details today.

      Scarlet was exhausted


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