Vampire's Journal

September 4th

Dear Diary, Something awful is going to happen today. I don’t know why I wrote that. It’s crazy. There’s no reason for me to be upset and every reason for me to be happy,but… But here I am at 5:30 in the morning,awake and scared. I keep telling myself it’s just that I’m all messed up from the time difference between France and here. But that doesn’t explain why I feel so scared. So lost. The day before yesterday,while Aunt Judith and Margaret and I were driving back from the airport,I had such a strange feeling. When we turned onto our street I suddenly thought,“Mom and dad are waiting for us at home .I bet they’ll be on the front porch or in the living room

looking out the window. They must have missed me so much.” I know.That sounds totally crazy. But even when I saw the house and the empty front porch I still felt that way. I ran up the steps

and I tried the door and knocked with the knocker. And when Aunt Judith unlocked the door I burst inside and just stood in the hallway listening,expecting to hear Mom coming down the stairs or Dad calling from the den. Just then Aunt Judith let a suitcase crash down on the floor behind me and sighed a huge sigh and said,“We’re home.” And Margaret laughed.And the most horrible feeling I’ve ever felt in my life came over me. I’ve never felt so utterly and completely lost. Home. I’m home. Why does that sound like a he? I was born here in Wood's Church. I’ve always lived in this house,always.

This is my same old bedroom,with the scorch mark on the floor boards where Alina and I tried to sneak cigarettes in 5th grade and nearly choked ourselves. I can look out the window and see the big quince tree Daniel and the guys climbed up to crash my birthday slumber party two years ago. This is my bed, my chair, my dresser. But right now everything looks strange to me,as if I don’t belong here. It’s me that’s out of place. And the worst thing is that I feel there’s somewhere I do belong,but I just can’t find it. I was too tired yesterday to go to Orientation. Meredith picked up my schedule for me,but I didn’t feel like talking to her on the phone.Aunt Judith told everyone who called that I had jetlag and was sleeping,but she watched me eat dinner with a funny look on her face. I’ve got to see the crowd today,though. We’re supposed to meet in the parking lot before school. Is that why I’m scared?Am I frightened of them?Trisha stopped writing. She stared at the last line she had written and then shook her head,pen hovering over the small book with the blue velvet cover. Then,with a sudden gesture,she lifted her head and threw pen and book at the big bay window, where they bounced off harmlessly and landed on the upholstered window seat. It was all so completely ridiculous. Since when had she, Trisha,been scared of meeting people?Since when had she been scared of anything? She stood up and angrily thrust her arms into a red silk kimono. She didn’t even glance at the elaborate Victorian mirror above the cherry wood dresser; she knew what she’d see. Trisha,cool and blond and slender,the fashion trend setter,the high school senior, the girl every boy wanted and every girl wanted to be. Who just now had an unaccustomed scowl on her face and a pinch to her mouth. A hot bath and some coffee and I’ll calm down, she thought. The morning ritual of washing and dressing was soothing, and she dawdled over it, sorting through her new outfits from Paris. She finally chose a pale rose top and white linen shorts combo that made her look like a raspberry sundae. Good enough to eat, she thought,and the mirror showed a girl with a secret smile. Her earlier fears had melted away, forgotten. “Trisha! Where are you?You’re going to be late for school!”.The voice drifted faintly up from below. Trisha ran the brush one more time through silky hair and pulled it back with a deep rose ribbon. Then she grabbed her backpack and went down the stairs. In the kitchen, four-year-old Margaret was eating cereal at the kitchen table,and Aunt Judith was burning something on the stove. Aunt Judith was the sort of woman who always looked vaguely flustered; she had a thin, mild face and light fly away hair pushed back untidily. Trisha landed a peck on her cheek.

“But, Trisha, you can’t just go off without eating. You need your protein—”.

“I’ll get a doughnut before school,” said Trisha briskly. She dropped a kiss on Margaret’s tow head and turned to go.

“But, Trisha”

“And I’ll probably go home with Alina or Meredith after school, so don’t wait dinner. Bye!”

“Trisha—”

Trisha was already at the front door. She closed it behind her, cutting off Aunt Judith’s distant protests, and stepped out onto the front porch,and stopped. All the bad feelings of the morning rushed over her again. The anxiety, the fear,and the certainty that something terrible was about to happen. Maple Street was deserted. The tall Victorian houses looked strange and silent, as if they might all be empty inside, like the houses on an abandoned movie set. They looked as if they were empty of people, but full of strange watching things. That was it; something was watching her. The sky overhead was not blue but milky and opaque, like a giant bowl turned upsidedown. The air was stifling, and Trisha felt sure that there were eyes on her. She caught sight of something dark in the branches of the old quince tree in front of the house. It was a crow, sitting as still as the yellow-tinged leaves around it. And it was the thing watching her. She tried to tell herself that this was ridiculous, but somehow she knew. It was the biggest crow she had ever seen, plump and sleek, with rainbows shining in its black feathers. She could see every detail of it

clearly: the greedy dark claws, the sharp beak, the single glittering black eye.It was so motionless that it might have been a wax model of a bird sitting there. But as she stared at it,Trisha felt herself flush slowly, heat coming in waves up her throat and cheeks. Because it was…looking at her. Looking the way boys looked at her when she wore a bathing suit or a sheer blouse. As if it were undressing her with its eyes. Before she realized what she was doing, she had dropped her backpack and picked up a stone from beside the driveway. “Get out of here,”she said, and heard the shaking anger in her own voice. “Go on! Getaway!” With the last word, she threw the stone.There was an explosion of leaves, but the crow soared up unharmed. Its wings were huge, and they made enough racket for a whole flock of crows. Trisha crouched, suddenly panicked as it flapped directly over her head, the wind of its wings ruffling her blonde hair. But it swooped up again and circled, a black silhouette against the paper-white sky. Then, with one harsh croak, it wheeled away toward the woods. Trisha straightened up slowly,then glanced around, self-conscious. She couldn’t believe what she had just done. But now that the bird was gone, the sky felt ordinary again. A little wind made the leaves flutter,and Trisha took a deep breath. Down the street a door opened and several children poured out, laughing. She smiled at them,and took another breath, relief sweeping through her like sunlight. How could she have been so silly?This was a beautiful day, full of promise, and nothing bad was going to happen. Nothing bad was going to happen—except that she was going to be late getting to school. The whole crowed would be waiting for her in the parking lot.

You could always tell everyone you stopped to throw stones at a Peeping Tom. She thought, and almost giggled. Now, that would give them something to think about. Without a backward glance at the quince tree,she began to walk as quickly as she could down the street. The crow crashed through the top of the massive oak, and Caden’s head jerked up reflexively. When he saw it was only a bird, he relaxed. His eyes dropped to the limp white form in his hands, and he felt his face twist in regret. He hadn’t meant to kill it. He would have hunted something larger than a rabbit if he’d known how hungry he was. But,of course, that was the very thing that frightened him: never knowing how strong the hunger would be, or what he might have to do to satisfy it. He was lucky that this time he’d killed only a rabbit. He stood beneath the ancient oak trees, sunlight filtering down on to his curly hair. In jeans and T-shirt, Caden Scott looked exactly like a normal highschool student.He wasn’t. Deep in the woods, where no one would see him, he’d come to feed. Now he licked at his gums and lips painstakingly, to make sure there was no stain on them. He didn’t want to take any chances. This masquerade was going to be hard enough to pull off as it was. For a moment he wondered, again, if he should just give it all up. Perhaps he should go back to Italy, back to his hiding place. What made him think that he could rejoin the world of daylight?As he slung his jacket over his shoulder, he noticed the crow that had disturbed him earlier. It was still perched in the oak tree, and it seemed to be watching him. There was a wrongness about it. He started to send a probing thought toward it, to examine the bird, and stopped himself. Remember your promise, he thought.You don’t use the Powers unless it is absolutely necessary. Not unless there is no other choice. Moving almost silently among the dead leaves and dry twigs, he made his way toward the edge of the woods. His car was parked there. He glanced back, once, and saw that the crow had left the branches and dropped down on the rabbit. There was something sinister in the way it spread its wings over the limp white body, something sinister and triumphant. Stefan’s throat tightened, and he almost strode back to chase the bird away. Still, it had as much right to eat as the fox did, he told himself. As much right as he did. If he encountered the bird again, he’d look into its mind, he decided. Just now,he tore his eyes from the sight of it and hurried on through the woods, jaw set. He didn’t want to be late arriving at Robert E.Lee HighSchool.