a bit of a story

Staring at the floor the darkness seemed to swell and breath. As if it was alive, alive and waiting to swallow her up into oblivion. ‎"I wonder if it could be alive" she thought to herself. It was a notion that if said out loud would be laughable. In her head it seemed half possible. 

Maybe she read too many books. Maybe her imagination stretched too far. But she was sure that somewhere in all that dark she could see a figure. 

"No" 

 She heard the figure say. Wait, she thought, I heard the. . . 

"Yes child, I spoke" 

"huhngg..." Was the only noise she could make. She was not afraid. Not entirely, she just didn't know what she should say to a dark figure that had appeared in her room out of the darkness Slowly she collected her thoughts. 

"Why... Why did you say no?" Seems like a rather silly thing to say when you have appeared out of no where in a ladies bedroom is what she was thinking. However it seemed ill advised to run off at the mouth to some strange apperation in ones room, it might harm her. ‎

"I say no, because the answer to the first question I am asked is always no" its (his?) voice was rich but cold, like a long dead prince who still took his aristocracy very seriously. 

Her better judgment was slipping away and the urge to be sharp and sarcastic with this stranger reared up. She may be weaker than he was but she could at least verbally attack him. "oh you just know what everyone will say do you? just who the hell do you think you are?! coming into my room in the middle of the night!? flaunting your ability to see the future apparently, why don't you skulk on out of here you fucking ass before I call the cops!"  

Even before it was all out of her mouth and hanging in the air like sick damp fog she knew that the words had no effect, that he had rendered them powerless and dull somehow. 

"why not ask the question I know you will ask"

he stated this with the authority that you had to respect, that you couldn't walk away from. ‎"Are...are you a vamp..." She couldn't make the word form properly. She couldn't say it, it sounded silly and a little scary at the same time. 

"A vampire? No, am I a deranged murderer? No, am I a demon no, am I here to rape you... No." "What I am cannot be explained in any way that you understand." "There is no term no explanation for what or who I am, I exist and that is all you need have known."  

The fact that he was not a vampire relieved her more than any of the other things he wasn't. It was over done the whole vampire business, in books in film in the fact that it was the first thing that popped into her head. What on earth was he then. This strange being. 

 "Are you a..." She started to ask "there is little point in playing a guessing game" he interjected "I have told you there are no words for what I really am." "Although that has never stopped your kind from trying" his voice took a tone of exasperated amusement "the most recent being an alien" he chuckled slightly under his breath.

 

 

its a little bit funny

correspondence in any form is a funny thing. Letters and notes can be saved but if they are thrown away or destroyed who is to say that what was written ever was? Texting and instant computer messages even are susceptible, once a message is deleted can you really prove you ever read what you did, or wrote the things that you think you have? I have found especially late at night if I have talked or messaged anyone and for one reason or another those messages get deleted or I was particularly tired it all seems very dream like and as if it never happened. Which can be disorienting at times. In one part of my brain I am certain I had a conversation typed or talked, but in another part I ask, but where is the proof?