The Victorian era house has been in the Maarten family for over two hundred years. I walked into the large lawn and saw the brown house with the black tiles on the roof. The spire rising above the rest of the roof was a remarkable sight for any person used to regular Dutch houses – even the bigger ones – I saw the gardener watering the flowers. They were Black Hollyhocks, loved by my mother especially.

“Mistress Marlene,” He greeted me.

“Hello, Albert.” Albert’s bald scalp shone in the sunlight, more wrinkle than human.

“Where did you come from?”

“Gathering with friends.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah!”

He nodded and continued watering the flowers.

I continued onto the door. It had a stone face of a gargoyle engraved in it. It looked badass. I opened the door. Luckily my parents weren’t home yet, giving me time to smoke a joint. I ran up the stairs and entered my room. The inside of my room was mostly black with posters of several bands on the walls. I had a dark wooden desk with my laptop and next to it a skull; I called it Bob. It used to be human once, but now it’s just decoration.

I sat behind my desk and grabbed a small plastic wrap out of my pocket. I then poured the green pulp out of the wrap into a brittle piece of paper. I rolled it up and licked along the side, then I closed it. I opened a drawer to grab a lighter. I walked over to the window and opened it wide. I looked out over the backyard and lit my joint.

I put the joint in my mouth and inhaled. I almost immediately felt lightheaded. I blew out smoke and the smell hit me. I had planned to smoke pot at the party, but there were too many people there who might recognize me. Now I could smoke until my parents came home. I closed my eyes and took in the smoke, it was very relaxing to just feel this high. I smoked up the pot quite fast. I pressed it out and threw it in the trash can. I closed the window and sat behind the desk. The high made me feel wonderful for the ten minutes it lasted.

I grabbed my phone and decided to call Vanessa. She must have returned home by now, I hoped she recovered well enough.

“Hey Silvie!” I said. Silvie was a nickname I had given her because of her shining silver hair. She didn’t like me saying it in public, it embarrassed her.

“Hey.” A soft voice said. Vanessa sounded tired.

“Hey, Vanessa.” I answered.

“I have some plans for Monday's club meeting. Will Hans be there?”

“I hope he is.”

“Can I tell you a little secret?” Vanessa’s voice cracked on the last word –it always did when she was even a tad bit nervous–

“Sure…” I replied.

“I think Hans is cute.”

“Ouuhhh!” I squealed. Out of all the group Vanessa had the least experience. She never mentioned a crush to me before.

“Please, stop it.” She giggled, “It’s not like that!”

“Oh are you more into Andy?”

“No!” She yelled, “I heard he groped a girl at that party we were at. He got slapped pretty hard and left with Hans right after.”

I gasped, “Really? I didn’t expect that. Do you know her?”

“Nope, heard it from her boyfriend, actually.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Jeez,” I said softly. I heard a door open downstairs and I decided to break off the call, “Take care, I need to go now.”

“Bye, Marly.”

My father rapped on the door. I could tell it was him by the pattern he uses. He opened the door and peeked his head through the opening.

“If it isn’t my precious princess,” He said.

Richard Maarten, my father. He was a successful businessman. He always wore a black suit with a tie. I never saw him wear anything else. He insisted on looking like a businessman at all times.

And I hated his guts.

“Hey, dad.” I said.

“Did ya do your homework?”

“Yes, I already finished it at school,” I muttered. Couldn’t he keep his nose in his own business?

“I’ll take your word for it, but if you’re lying,” He raised his finger and it split open. A large bony claw appeared as it cut through his index finger. Blood dripped on the floor and I sighed. He was going to make me clean it again, luckily the floor was black already, “You’ll get cuts.”

“Yes, f-father,” I said.

He grinned at me and left. I could hear his footsteps retreating. He often threatened to cut me with his claws, but ever since I hit puberty and found ways to keep pot smoking, sex and other ‘unholy’ things a secret, he did it less and less. I behaved better in his eyes, or maybe he realized cutting didn’t work. My father was a bonafide evil man, my mother wasn’t much better; she got sold by her parents to her in-laws, married him over one hundred years ago and has stayed with him all that time.

I opened up my laptop and put on my headphones. I put on some music and opened up my web browser. The news popped up on my screen. A viral video of Joseph Bridger opening his eyes raged up a storm online. He recovered way faster than anyone would’ve thought. He had a bandage around his neck and his eyes still looked lifeless. He did however, have a soft smile on his face as the nurses and his son clapped and cheered.

It filled my heart with joy. Despite me not loving Bridger, I loved seeing people close to him happy. It was the reason I tried to get Hans into the club, and why I started talking to Vanessa Smit in primary school. She was getting bullied badly and I noticed, my brother always said I had an eye for that. I miss him. Errol was running a business in Thailand and didn’t have much time for his family. Last time I saw him was three years ago at a family party.

Vanessa Smit was a loving girl, but she didn’t have the capacity to show that to everyone. In primary school she was often quiet and preferred being alone. She didn’t play with other kids until I approached her after a girl stole her pencil. I found her crying on her own somewhere on the playground, hidden from the playing children.

I got her pencil back, and sent to detention for a week.

After she got her Autism Spectrum Disorder diagnosis a year ago, I started my research behind the disorder and what it meant. Vanessa’s case was quite severe, she suffered from meltdowns and conversations still didn’t come easily with strangers. She felt empathy, but often expressed it in odd ways. She didn’t like being touched, which is why she often wore hoodies and other large baggy clothing.

It could be summed up by saying she was just more sensitive than others her age.

I often think she feels left out. Everyone in the school club has had a romantic relationship before, while she has remained single all her life. She doesn’t like talking about it, but she doesn’t express that she’s hurt by being single either.

There was Hans now, who was definitely a virgin.

I tend to sniff those people out.

Then again, we were only sixteen. Vanessa would have plenty of time to learn how dating works. It’s not like my first relationship at age fifteen was all sunshine and rainbows, maybe she was luckier than me to have more time

I did agree that Hans was cute. He didn’t say he was neurodivergent at the party, but I doubted it strongly. The boy had a bunch of quirks, he didn’t look people in the eyes either.

My thought process was interrupted by my mother entering with a glass of dark red blood in her hand. She wore a long black dress “Marlene!” She said enthusiastically, “We found you a groom!”

Oh yeah, my parents were rich vampires who wanted me to marry another rich vampire for political and financial gain. I wasn’t planning on that happening. My mother passed me the glass of blood and I sipped on it. The iron filled up my tastebuds, I closed my eyes to let it simmer on my tongue.

“He is perfect for you, darling,” My mother said, “He is handsome, only a year older than you and his father is an oil giant. He’ll make you a very happy girl.”

I scoffed, “I’m already happy enough. This is just so you’ll be a happy girl because you’re greedy. We live in this huge mansion and you still need an oil giant to get even more-”

She slapped me across the face, “Don’t you dare strike that tone to me, young lady. The boy will visit this week, and you will speak with him.”

My cheek burned and I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t show that type of weakness around these predators. They smelled fear, making them feel powerful. I hoped for a quick awakening, a power stronger than my mother and father combined

“Just be ready for it.” My mother said before she left.

I sighed and a few tears dropped onto my desk. I put my face into my arms and softly sobbed. At least I had the club meeting to look forward to.