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 ``roadtrip, yo., tag AHLI durr!
| aurora greco |
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`dancing among the graves.
Group: golden-eyed vampires; admin
Posts: 212
Member No.: 14
Joined: 16-July 08
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Pinch to snub that restless nerve and knock the wind
From one last urge…With two fingers a rock glass
Time passed and that was that. Quite a slip,
A loosened grasp. …What a way to cut lengthwise
“You’re lying to me,” Aurora said quietly, her lips moving at the same time as the other girl’s. She stared into those golden eyes, darker now than they were a week or so ago, now a deep bronze, about halfway to the customary hungry onyx. They narrowed. The girl in front of her was the same height, and looked at her with the same sense of vengeance that Aurora felt in her own heart. When her lip came up in a snarl, so did the reflection’s. Of course it did. The vampire took a deep breathe, the stale scent of her own kind filled her nostrils, only a faint whiff of Ahli’s blood from earlier in the week when she’d slept over. Aurora continued the staring contest with the girl in the mirror, even though she knew that neither self could win. They would lose at the same time. They were the same person. Tight-throated, the girl bit her stony lip, and inspected the skin. Not her own skin. Her skin. It was stony and vile and insipid like all the rest. There were no tan lines, no bruises, no traces of blood anywhere in her, none at all. Her stick-figure frame was awkward and ridiculous, and, near-tears (if she could cry), Rora lifted one bony hand to pinch at her hip. There was minimal, if any, flab to draw away from her skeleton. I’m ugly, she thought, and in this moment, she truly believed it. Her face was fair, to be sure, but that was all genetics. She wished she’d been able to take care of her body better when she had been human…
But as she was who she was, that had not been an option. Food had not been an option. Aurora sniffed deeply and she stared now at her legs. She thought they resembled those of a praying mantis: scrawny, skeletal, frigid, awkward, strange. She was wearing naught but her panties, and she desperately wanted to dive beneath her rug if only to hide her body. It was too thin! She felt like one of those starving homeless men in Africa, with the oversized head and the limbs so thin that he could touch his index finger to his thumb around his own upper arm. Rora tried this now. With her gawky, large hands, she should’ve expected to succeed. When she felt the contact on her fingertips, she let out a near-silent high-pitched moan, and turned from the mirror. Why she was in such a poignant, irate, disconcerting mood, she wasn’t sure…if she had still been human, she would’ve assumed that her period was approaching and let it go. But right now she felt she couldn’t let it go. Even though she was supposed to have fun today. Pressing her fingertips to her hairline in a clawing motion, Aurora began scraping her long hair back away from her face in an almost angry way, and felt her neck and back tense up so badly that it almost hurt.
The vampire girl took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. It wasn’t working. Her liquid eyes moved slowly to her bookcase, and then dropped to the bottom shelf. Why she kept the knife, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps out of paranoia, though she knew that a knife was pointless to keep for someone like herself. Dropping her hands to her sides, she walked mechanically over to the shelf and pushed the books aside to get to the thin piece of metal. It was small, but enough to kill. Not enough to kill a vampire, and probably not enough to kill a werewolf, either. Basically, it was useless. But Aurora raised her right arm anyway and turned back to the mirror. She looked into her reflection as she slowly lowered the knife to her granite skin, and attempted to press the blade into her flesh. It was, as she suspected, useless. She scratched helplessly at the uppermost layer and only got through ever so slightly before the metal began to twist under the pressure. Rora grimaced at herself and then lifted the blade. Momentum. Making a fist with her right hand, she held tight onto the knife and attempted a direct stab. The blade cut right through…the first few layers. There was no blood, of course…she hadn’t expected there to be any. But it was still unsettling to know that she wasn’t at all like any of her friends; even after over a hundred years of this, she still wanted to be like everyone else. Though she knew it could never happen. There was no blood. There never could be, for her. I was type O, I think, Rora thought absently as she inspected the knife. Her arm felt slightly shattered from the impact, but there was no wound.
Dropping the knife to the rug, she pursed her lips and closed her eyes, dropping her hands once more and turning to face the mirror again. Blind, Rora pushed the sliding full-length behind the door of her armoire, and slowly reopened her eyes to choose an outfit from the closet. It was a quick process, for once. The vampire’s fingers moved deftly over the satin and silk pieces, her hands smoothing over denim jackets and beaded skirts and even once a Japanese kimono. Aurora watched her robotic arms move by themselves, her fists enclosing automatically, it seemed, over a pair of skinny jeans. Skinny jeans. Skinny jeans. She took them out, hands shaking, and chose an aqua tank top. Quickly, the girl pulled it over her head, and stepped into the denim. It felt wrong. The day was too warm. And the word ‘skinny’ kept repeating again and again in Rora’s mind. She shed the clothing and tossed the two pieces into the bottom of her armoire, picking out this time a bright yellow skirt and a white shirt. She didn’t even care that the shirt was a little wrinkled...she wished that she could fill it out more, and then the wrinkles would disappear from her…mass. Aurora put on these clothes instead, and, at the last moment, picked up a pair of blue heels. Stilettos. Entirely wrong for driving, for a road trip. But it didn’t matter. It at least showed off what little muscle the girl had in her calves and on the sides of her thighs.
Why the hell am I in such a weird mood? she thought as she lifted one foot, and then the other, to pull on her heels. As Rora headed toward the door of her room, she was still searching within her mind for an answer to that question. On her desk, next to the door, was a pair of large sunglasses. The fashion of bug-eyed glasses had long since passed (she’d gotten them over a year ago, for the sake of all that is holy) but Aurora liked them, for some reason. They hide my eyes. I can see out but no one can see in. It represents me, she thought, and if she could’ve cry, she would’ve. Rora snatched them up from the desktop and pushed back her hair with them, resting them on top of her head. Her purse hung on the hook on her door, and she reached around to grab that as well. She had a couple twenties on her, as well as her American Visa, and her ID and driver’s license as well. Whatever. Slinging it onto the inside of her elbow, Aurora held her hand slightly in the air to keep it up gravity-wise, and trotted down the hallway, mechanically making it down the stairs and out the door. Once in the driveway, she took a deep breath and tried to relax. For some reason, she was on edge; perhaps it was the whistling in the trees that seemed angry, and perhaps it was the rustling of the wind against the overgrown grass in the neighboring yards.
She shook her head and cramped her eyebrows together on her white forehead, walking briskly toward the garage where she kept ‘The Car’. She was supposed to pick up Ahli first, and then they would drop by Shannon’s and perhaps Allison’s and Kylee’s before swinging down to La Push to see who was available for a little road trip. Neither she nor Ahli had figured out where they were going, or what they were doing, or when they would be back. It was part of the rush, to not know a thing and just have a good time on the way to nowhere. The hum of the Ferrari was becoming customary to the vampire, and as she started the engine she sunk into the new leather and set her in reverse to back slowly out of the garage. It was several minutes before she was cruising down the street, white-knuckling it as she rode the familiar way to her best friend’s house. The Mitchell Residence was plain, but fairly neat and had a sort of prettiness about it; a brightness that Aurora guessed was brought to the home by the Alex herself. The color was bland, but she liked it. The house today did not have a distinct scent of Febreeze, for which Rora was grateful, and she pulled into the driveway leading up to the two-car garage with ease. Rolling down her window, Aurora gathered enough strength to shout, “Alexandra Mitchell, you get your fat ass out here this second or I’ll—” Here, she cut her own voice off with a beep of the horn. She had jammed her palm into the wheel, and didn’t release for almost three seconds before relaxing once more into the seat.
Rora wasn’t particularly happy, per say, but she was getting there. Perhaps the presence of Alex would make her feel more at home, less alone. And then the door opened, and she didn’t even think about the distinct scent of liquor that hit the side of the Ferrari with the next easy breeze.
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Skinned by Ryan.
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