I have met a handful of other immortals (read: vampires). Here’s a secret that isn’t a secret (with apologies to Danny Trejo): vampires don’t text. Or blog. Or out themselves on social media. Right?
Also: am I an obnoxious twenty-something? Yes or no? Am I at least a well-meaning obnoxious twenty-something?
I got stuck with this job because of the obvious perks. I love our residents, but this wasn’t my big life plan. I didn’t ask to be turned into a vampire at twenty-two all because two centuries-old bloodsuckers decided to take their rivalry to the next level and both wanted a pawn to play with.
Okay, that wasn’t fair: at least Louisa had planned to actually ASK me, but I still would have said no.
Where’s all this coming from? Let’s start at the beginning.
Her name is…well, let’s call her “Jules.”
I love the Internet. I enjoy social media. I wasn’t much of a thumb-clicker in college, but distractions are welcome when I want to step outside of my life into those of other people. Social media makes it easy; everyone wants to share their joy and pain and political opinions and whatever. Most of it is crap or look-at-me and too much of it is poorly written at best. Seriously, kids: you’re not the Vampire Lestat or 8000 years old no matter how many times you say “you don’t know me.” I can say with 99.9% certainty you’re neither a vampire nor an immortal.
Jules was different. Yes, I know she wasn’t really a vampire…but I wanted to believe she was. There was truth in her words, as if her mask was transparent or at least translucent. It felt real and it felt wonderful. Pleasure, pain, triumph, disappointment, all that stuff. There was a comment button, so I clicked and responded. Jules has created this wonderful vampire life for herself with rules and everything – with perfect consistency – and one so much more idyllic than my own. Children, for example, walking in sunshine and having supernatural friends.
I…may have overstepped.
Real vampires don’t do this unless they are sure no one believes them. It’s too dangerous. We’re all being watched, trust me. But the ones that could be real aren’t the ones proclaiming you must accept them and whining when you don’t. They’re the ones who are being honest and coming from a place just under the text, between the lines where so much isn’t said.
I responded. She believed me. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I was just playing along.
While I wasn’t hiding it, Jules found my contact info and sent me a personal email. I was worrying her and some of her other readers.
I meant no offense, but that’s not an excuse, is it?
It gets worse. She said she thought I was “an obnoxious twenty-something who stayed up way too late at night…(probably) a recent college graduate.” Mostly true. “Someone who also wrote from a vampire character point of view, who liked to leave comments on other vampire related blogs…more often than not bugged the jeebers out of me.”
That hurt…and I deserved it.
Fine, I guess I can be obnoxious. I’m still growing up and I should be able to use that as an excuse, but I was trying to relate with my own experience. How am I supposed to say, “Hey, I’m a vampire too and I’m jealous of your kids!” It would be even worse if Jules truly understood the reason so-called nice vampires avoided children.
And now I’m whining. My failure is complete.
Don’t shut me out, Jules.