I’m back at my childhood home, in my Dad’s office, waiting for punishment for some prank I pulled. I frown and stare at my pale, limp hands in my lap, and again try to think of something to say that isn’t insane. Of course, the reason itself is insane but it doesn’t stop me from still wanting it. Maybe it won’t hurt as much as I think it will.
Lifting my gaze, I look him in the eye and take a deep breath.
“I wanted you to kill me.”
My voice almost echoes in the silence of my apartment. Even Florence is quiet as she sits beside me, her tail tickling the fabric of my sleeve. I watch as his red eyes move all over my face, as he begins to frown. I sit there, watching him watch me shaking with nerves. The longer we sit in silence, the more anxious I get. I don’t know what he’ll do and that in itself makes me nervous, because the list of possibilities is endless.
“You said ‘wanted’, do you not want that anymore?”
I frown at the question but answer, “I don’t know.”
“Why do I have to kill you?” he asks in a bored tone. “Can’t you just do it yourself?”
“No.” I whisper feeling my cheeks heat up, “I can’t. I made a promise that I wouldn’t.”
“So you thought ‘hey, I’ll just get a vampire to do it’?” he asks in a patronizing tone, “You’re not mentally sound, are you?”
I almost laugh but refrain, “Many people would say that I’m not, no.”
He sighs before glancing at me, “What’s in it for me?”
“I don’t get what you mean.”
He rolls his red eyes, a very human gesture, before looking at me dryly, “You get to die and escape from whatever fucked up life you think you have, but what do I get? Other than another mess to clean up.”
I duck my head, looking at my hands again as I try to think of a way of convincing him, “It’s a win-win situation for both of us. You get what you need and I… I get release. It’s not like you’ll muck it up.”
He stares at me for a long moment, before sighing. “And here I thought I was here for an easy meal.”
I frown, again. “This is easy. I’m offering myself on a silver platter.”
“Not exactly the best proposition I’ve had, especially considering that you know what I am.” He drawls before eyeing me dubiously, “Speaking of which, doesn’t that scare you?”
I shake my head hesitantly.
“Not at all?” He presses.
“I just told you I wanted you to kill me,” I inform him quietly, “I think it’d be silly for me to be scared of you. You killing me would be the worst thing you could do to me.”
“I could make you like me. Live forever.”
I feel my heart clench at the thought, “I don’t think you would.”
“Why not?” He asks with a shrug, “Maybe I’m lonely.”
“Then you wouldn’t pick me to live eternally with.”
Both of his eyebrow raise in surprise, I think, “I could rip you to pieces, make this as painful as possible for you. Does that appeal to you as much?”
I shake my head, feeling my hands start to shake uncontrollably in my lap.
“Weren’t expecting that were you?” He asks mockingly.
“I-I-I expected you to rip me to pieces,” I stutter out in a whisper, “I was just hoping you wouldn’t.”
He studies me for a few minutes before speaking again, “Don’t you have a family?
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” I ask in complete disbelief.
“Just answer the question.”
“Yes but it’s what’s best for them too.” I mumble, feeling tears prick my eyes. “I’ve been pulling them on a string for too long.”
He narrows his eyes. “Once you’re dead, you’re dead, you know that right?”
I nod slowly and whisper. “I know.”
“And you still want me to kill you?”
I think about my life as it is. The misery, the self-hate, the constant panic, and the worry I make others feel for me all the time. It’s not right and I know that I don’t want to live like this anymore. Who would? I decide that I’ve suffered long