The alarm was like a jackhammer drilling into my head. I sat up, wincing, just as a piece of notepaper rolled on my lap. Avoid sunlight, cover up well. Whatever you do, whatever happens, tell nobody, your parents in particular. I’ll try to explain everything at school.- Oliver.

That had to be the weirdest thing I’d read all month.

I was about to slip out of my pajamas when I realized I still wore last night’s clothes—blouse, coat, jeans, though my high heels were nowhere to be found.

My smartphone rolled loosely in my coat pocket. I thumbed the scanner and the first thing I saw was the contacts’ app displaying my personal information. The phone app was also open; someone had typed in 911, but not called the number.

By then I was freaked out. Under such strange circumstances, heeding the note seemed the sane thing to do, so I cracked the shutters open enough to see. Outside was still dark, with the first signs of dawn giving the sky a pink shade. The light, faint and low as it was, sent a slight sting in my eyes.

Hurrying to the bathroom, I undressed and checked myself in the mirror. I looked paler than usual. Somehow my pale skin had blanched itself to where it was almost comical. It also helped me find what I was after. Something bit me in the night—I had two red dots on my neck.

My heart caught in my throat. The signs were there, but it couldn’t be. It was ridiculous to even think it. Was I a…? No, not possible. But the note warning of sunlight, the light of dawn stinging my eyes; here I thought vampires were only fairytales, no? And just who the hell was Oliver? This had to be some elaborate prank.

I went in the shower. A sense of helplessness overwhelmed me. Staring blankly at the wall as dark thoughts swarmed and overlapped in my mind, creating so much noise and commotion in my head, I just wanted to curl into a ball and forget everything.

I lost track of time, but Mom yelling ‘get down here this instant’ made me spur into automatic action. Outside the shower, I slipped into a pair of black jeans, a long-sleeved light blue T-shirt, climbed into my hiking boots, and clasped a snap clip to rein in my hair from one side. I grabbed sunglasses and a hoodie for when the sun came out. Before leaving my room I thought bringing leather gloves and an umbrella would be good ideas. I slung my school bag under my arm.

Making my way down, I realized it’d be hard to pretend everything was cool. I felt as though a fist were closing around my stomach. More so when the light slanting through the windows in the hall made my eyes water. I hurried downstairs to find Mom brewing coffee in the kitchen. The note’s warnings flashed in the back of my mind. Tell nobody, your parents in particular. That was understandable. I wouldn’t want them to think I had gone cuckoo.

She wore a black blazer over a white blouse: the usual attire for the law firm. Cropped, bronze hair and blue, calculating eyes, she was a lioness at work, but a doting mama bear at home.

She looked at me and sighed in mock exasperation. “Baby, aren’t those sunglasses overkill?”

“Yes.” Though my eyes didn’t sting when I looked through them.

“Fine. Just hurry. You’re both gonna be late.”

My younger brother, Marcus, scooped through his cereal. “What kept you?” Like me, his auburn hair took after our mother. He was a good degree shorter than me, and of stockier build.

“You don’t have to wait for me if I’m late.”

I served my bowl of cereal. The first spoonful felt bogus. Then the next one. It felt as though I was eating flavorless mush. Not only that, but it wasn’t easing my hunger. It wasn’t filling my stomach. Nada. It felt akin to eating something that dissolved as soon as it had contact with my tongue. I took a granola bar afterward, but only got the same results.

I stared at my mom. If she hadn’t had her back turned, and I hadn’t been wearing sunglasses, she might have seen my pleading eyes. I wanted to cry. What’s the worst that could happen if I snitched?

With a hungry stomach, I took my school bag and followed Marcus out through the front door. When we stepped out, that was the moment I realized my life would never be the same, and every living day would comprise having to survive through it. I lifted the sunglasses enough to find out the light stung my eyes, or worse… it could get much worse. I rolled up a sleeve, and a burning sensation grew ever slightly on my skin, like holding your palm over a candle. No more horse riding, canoeing, hiking, camping… We went in silence. Marcus talked a little, but any word I might have said got choked halfway through my throat. I kept my mouth clamped shut, fearing he might hear the despair in my trembling voice.

Most government (and some private) buildings outside the suburbs bore Victorian styles, with their fancy columns and cupolas. It was odd since no other town or city near us bore the same style. We walked out of Weeping Willow Drive, onto John Dee Avenue and turned on Farpoint Boulevard, where the ancient Great Oak of Farpoint stood in the center square of town, right before the town hall and the public library. A few more blocks up ahead on Griffin Nest Avenue stood Farpoint High School, Home of the Griffins.

“You got practice today?” I asked Marcus as we filed in with other students. “I… I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home with you.”

“Yeah,” my brother said. He played basketball. He was a stout believer he would get taller by playing it. “Don’t sweat it. It’s not like you’re my nanny.”

Inside the commons by the entrance I spotted the boy from my fourth period with his beanie cap. We locked gazes for a second until he looked away, flustered. I knew there was something he wanted to say, and that’s when the gears in my memory kicked into motion.

He’s Oliver.

He beckoned to me, smiling. Except his smile looked more like a wince and his cheeks like tomatoes. It was clear he had difficulty looking me in the eye. A blonde girl with a short bob cut stood beside him and she, too, beckoned.

“Oliver, right? Yeah, that’s you. What the F was that about?”

“Please, please, wait… wait a minute and we can explain things to you, okay?” said the boy in the beanie cap. He wrung his wrists, apparently not knowing where to begin.

The girl nudged Oliver on the side. “Tell her,” she mumbled.

He nodded rapidly, clearing his throat. “Yes, yes, sorry. Scarlett… this is Anja.” He gestured to his companion. Anja waved back at me, smiling coyly. “Well… again, you need to calm down so we can explain everything… please? We can help you. I may not understand how you’re feeling, all right, but at least I know what’s going on. I’m just glad you paid attention to my note.”

“What are you on about? You have to explain that shit right now.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t remember anything… what happened to me yesterday after I left the party? All I get are blurred images.”

“Not here,” Oliver said, tipping on his toes and looking behind me. “Would you mind skipping first period?”

Damn, do I?

The library was empty during first period, except for Mrs. Lindt, who gave us a wary eye as we stalked to the furthest bookshelves at the back.

Oliver turned to me and leaned against a shelf, thrusting books off it and sending a racket of noise all over the room. He scrambled after them, red across his cheeks.

My arms were crossed. I still didn’t understand why these two cared one bit about me. “So, what’s this about?”

“You might have figured it out, probably not,” Oliver said. “We need you to keep calm, okay? Here goes. You were attacked. By a vampire. Still with me?” He gave me a nervous smile.

“I know what a vampire is. I know they don’t exist, or at least they’re not supposed to exist. But how? It doesn’t make sense. I d-don’t remember anything.”

“I-I found you at the park on my way after the party,” Oliver said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Wait a sec, I thought you said you saw her getting attacked,” Anja said, tilting her head to the side.

Oliver nudged her.

Silence.

“I brought you to your house. It would’ve been bad if you stayed there until dawn. For obvious reasons.”

“He looked up your address in your phone,” Anja said. “And he carried you safe and sound.” Oliver turned redder. There was a noticeable lingering hiss to her voice. She gave me the impression she was one of those weird gals who would try to purr like a cat when flirting.

“You went through my stuff… inside my house…” My arm raised and pulled back on its own, about to slap him, but I stopped myself when he flinched. “Never mind. Okay, this isn’t funny. Never was. Did someone slip a pill in my drinks?” I creased my forehead. “I had no drinks. Okay, just come out and say it. ‘Just a prank, bro!’”

“Fine… go stand outside under the sun and tell me if that’s a prank anyone could pull off.” His eyes darted when I frowned at him.

Anja looked down at her feet while rocking on them. “Scarlett, he’s telling the truth. You should understand so you can be safe.”

“Please, how is it possible though? Do they really… exist?”

“They have always existed,” Oliver said. “I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“But why… why are they treated like… fiction? Like, why was I never warned?”

“I’m sorry, that’s not something I could properly explain. But we could help you,” Oliver said. “Remember you cannot tell anyone what happened to you. Not your parents, siblings, or anyone. We’re here for you. Anything you need.”

Anja turned to him. “She should see Mr. Royce.”

“For sure. Hey, Scarlett, I know this could be hard on you, but would it be possible for you to hold out until the break? We’ll take you to him. Hopefully it’ll be smooth sailing from there on.”

During third period, history class, I sat as far away as possible from the open windows. To my chagrin, the sun was coming out and the clouds clearing away. Rick, one of my best friends, entered then, flopping his backpack next to his desk in front, and sat facing me sideways. He had a knack for making me and others laugh. The funny faces he made sometimes brought me out of the darker moments in my life.

“Ready to ace this test?” He grinned.

“Oh, I forgot about it.”

“Why the shades?” His grin turned into a confused frown.

“Mr. Blake, you sit at the front!” Mr. Howard’s voice boomed up the rows of desks. This was routine.

“Sucker,” Rick said under his breath, and trudged down the aisle and sank on his chair.

A few rows behind him, right next to the window, I caught Eli staring at me. If there were a competition for class clown, he’d come closer than anyone else to winning, except many of his jokes bordered on bullying. There was a malicious glint to his eye as he watched me. I had gone months, maybe the whole year, without him ever noticing me. His strange leer got to my nerves.

“Ms. Rosenbaum! There will be no cheating in my class. Take the shades off,” Mr. Howard said, flipping through his papers, looking at me.

I hesitated at first. Eli was trying to show me something. He positioned his chair under the window in a way that sunlight streamed on him, raised his arms ceremoniously, and closed his eyes as if to take in all the light and warmth. He drank it in, imbibed in it, and smirked to make it more obvious. I couldn’t believe it. He was mocking my new aversion to sunlight.

I took off the sunglasses as ordered, only to receive a sting of pain. I scrunched up my eyes and turned away. Mr. Howard gestured toward the windows. “You, close the shutters.”

The teacher moved up and down the aisles handing out the tests. “As you know, if I catch you cheating, you’re done for the semester. No hocus-pocus hogwash or your ‘new-world’ gadgets. Mr. Roth, I’m looking at you,” the teacher said, glaring at Eli; he smirked while leaning back, balancing his chair on two legs. “Let’s get started.”

As soon as I put pencil on paper, I realized how the words, no matter how many times I read and reread them, did not make much sense. I was famished. A nagging thought before, now it governed every inch of my brain. Hunger took charge of directing my thoughts. Food replaced what I knew of the American Revolution. I let my gaze drift from peer to peer while my mouth watered. I might have been picking out which one was the choicest meat from a menu. The digital clock up on the wall snapped me out of my daydream. I had ten minutes to finish.

Rick and I made our way to the cafeteria. Toward the end of the hallway I spotted Melanie rummaging through her locker, surrounded by two of her friends, or goons, more like.

“Watch this,” I heard her say to them, despite the distance between us, plus the tumult of chattering students heading to lunch drowning out her voice. I watched her as we came closer, but nothing was forthcoming. Then as we passed by, she wheeled around and stuck out her foot for me to trip over.

But I saw it coming, and a sudden viciousness took over me. I kicked her on the shin. Melanie fell on her butt to nurse her leg, whimpering. Her friends drew in a collective gasp. “Ow, you stupid slut!” she yelled.

“Better watch out where you put your hooves,” I said, and kept on walking.

“Holy crap, that was heartless,” Rick said, after the first shock let up.

“Exactly what she deserves.” I supposed hunger was getting the better of me. On a normal day I would never have seen it coming. But what is normal, anyway? Normal in this town would be odd anywhere else. Odd in this town would be downright outlandish anywhere but here.

Once in the commons, it was easy to spot Tiffany and Amanda sitting together. Tiffany’s raven bob cut and her glasses, and Amanda’s flowing hazel hair stuck out from the crowd when they were together. Sometimes other people joined us for lunch at our table. Leslie often sat next to Tiffany to gossip, and Jason with Rick to talk about football.

I wasted no time diving into my food. Without shame, I wolfed it down. I was grateful the others made no comment. Today we had mac and cheese, lousy vegetables, and a hot dog. I couldn’t help but realize, to my increasing frustration, like my cereal earlier in the morning, this meal wasn’t filling my growling stomach. So I sat there, staring at my feet, getting more annoyed every second, and I began seeing red.

Oliver or Anja might know about this. Where are they? I peered around, but only saw students looking for tables and those sitting with friends.

“Look, look, there he is!” Leslie said in gossip mode. She turned over her shoulder while leaning in to Tiffany’s ear. Her limber neck drew my attention for a few seconds. “Tiff, look at that blazer… oh my God.”

There, striding at the head of his group of friends, was Alan Grayson. His near angelic face inspired envy and respect in men, and his hairstyle was all-around imitated to death. His aristocratic manners and noble posture presented an enduring reminder of the old times of princes and their princesses, of gallant knights and their fair ladies.

“Sucks he doesn’t swing your way.” My lips tugged with disdain.

“I second that statement. It’s not your fault,” Rick said, flashing me a grin.

“I can taste the salt in that statement,” Tiffany said, with a sly smile. But that made me grit my teeth.

“What? Am I the only one missing something here?” Jason asked.

I bit my lip. Why am I still starving?

“Scarlett approached Alan. He turned her down,” Tiffany said. “Can’t go any deeper.”

“Well, that’s okay. There are plenty of fish in the sea,” Jason said, winking at me. I could’ve pounced on him right there and then, and fed on his blood, had someone behind me not touched my shoulder.

“Hey, Scarlett?” It was Oliver, wringing his wrists. At long freaking last. “A moment, please?” His cheeks turned crimson red.

The chair screeched on the tile as I shoved it back when I stood up. My friends glanced at each other as though I had gone crazy. Perhaps I had.

Oliver tittered, and I followed him. From behind I watched his fingers clench, and his feet shuffle as if he were about to trip. He led me to one of the emptier corners of the commons, under the staircase. Anja was there, rocking on her heels, waiting for us.

I crossed my arms. “So…?”

“How are you doing so far?” Anja asked.

“Well… I am starving… No matter how much I eat, how much I stuff into my mouth, the hunger won’t go away. Nothing I eat has any flavor. It’s driving me insane.” I said, taking a step forward. “You said I should see Mr. Royce. He can help me, right? Right?”

“Your body will never starve as long as you keep eating. What you’re feeling is your want for blood,” Oliver said. “You haven’t told anyone, right?”

I pursed my lips. “How am I supposed to know who it’s all right to tell?”

“Um, only if you know for certain they’re non-humans or humans who already know about us.”

“Us?” I couldn’t help myself. “No way, you’re vampires…” The word still tasted bitter on my tongue.

Anja giggled. “Of course not. I’m a werecat!” She said proudly, a bit loud for my liking. That might have explained the hiss in all her ’s’. “It’s such a relief finally telling you. Oliver is a devil.”

“Anja, at least keep it quiet. I’d rather you didn’t disclose that,” Oliver said, biting his lip.

“You’re joking, right? I’m supposed to believe you turn into a cat every full moon,” I said pointing at Anja, then at Oliver, “and you… you can’t possibly be evil, can you?”

Anja linked her hands together. “That’s not how it works. Werewolves are cursed at birth. Mine is a gift from the stars. Oliver is the sweetest dev-,”

Oliver had turned red as a tomato. “Please, stop, this is neither the time nor place.”

“I think Mr. Howard knows. He noticed the sunlight bothering me. Eli definitely does, too. He was mocking me about it.”

“Mr. Howard is a werewolf. That’s why he’s absent three days a month. Eli is a devil, too. An Astaroth. No surprise he did that. The lot of them tend to be pricks,” Oliver said and cleared his throat. “I’m a Belial.”

“Can you repeat that in English?”

“Uh, they’re devil families, households, etc.”

“Isn’t that, like really dangerous though? Devils, werewolves…” I didn’t realize what I was saying until Oliver flinched. “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean you. What I mean is why was I never told? How do parents look over their kids while not knowing a vampire or werewolf could get them one day?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I get you. Totally. You might not believe it, but the odds of that happening are about the same as dying by the hands of a serial killer. According to studies…”

“Can you tell me who’s human? Who’s not?” I asked, gesturing toward the students having lunch in the bustling commons.

“It would be a safe bet to say more than half are human, and the rest are not,” Oliver said.

I let that sink in. A lump formed in my throat. So who’s dangerous? Who’s not? Am I to them?

“No way. You’re shitting me.”

“Don’t you worry about it. I know Mr. Royce will be of great help to you,” Anja said, smiling. She took my hand. “Come, he’s this way.”

Next Chapter: To Paint the Wall Scarlet