The Rapture

The car hums along the familiar route to my parent's house, a comfortable silence settling between Mia and me. But the quiet is deceptive, filled with unspoken questions and the weight of my new reality.

Finally, Mia breaks the silence. "So, Evie," she starts, her voice a mix of curiosity and trepidation, "what's it really like? Being a vampire, I mean."

I glance at her, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "It's... weird," I admit, leaning back against the headrest. "Like, one minute you're just a normal girl, worrying about exams and boys, and the next..." I trail off, the memory of Alistair's attack flashing before my eyes.

Mia nods, her understanding clear. "There's the thirst, right?" she asks softly. "The constant hunger."

"Yeah," I sigh, "that, and the loneliness. It's like being on the outside looking in, you know? Like I'm not really a part of the world anymore."

Mia reaches over and squeezes my hand. "You're not alone, Evie. You have me."

Her words warm my heart, a reminder that I'm not completely adrift in this new, dark world. "I know," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "And I'm so glad."

A moment of silence passes before Mia's curiosity bubbles up again. "Okay, so, do you have any cool powers? Like, can you fly or turn into a bat or something?"

I chuckle, the sound a welcome relief in the otherwise tense atmosphere. "Nope, sorry to disappoint. Those are just Hollywood myths. We're faster and stronger than humans, and our senses are sharper, but that's about it."

"What about sunlight?" Mia asks, her brow furrowing. "You said it hurts you?"

I nod, a shiver running down my spine at the memory. "Yeah, it's like being burned alive. That's why I have to stay inside during the day."

"That's rough," Mia says, her voice full of sympathy. "Being cooped up all the time."

"It is," I admit, "but I'll get used to it. I have to."

We fall into a comfortable silence again, the hum of the engine and the passing scenery filling the space between us. As we approach my parents' house, a nervous knot forms in my stomach. The lie I told them hangs heavy, a reminder of the secrets I'm now forced to keep.

But as I glance at Mia, her unwavering support shining in her eyes, a sense of calm washes over me. We'll face whatever comes our way, together. And for now, that's enough.

As we pull into the driveway of my childhood home, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. The familiar sight of the porch swing and the blooming hibiscus bushes momentarily ease the anxiety gnawing at my insides.

My parents greet us at the door, their faces etched with concern. My mom's eyes scan me from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury or distress. Dad's embrace is tight, his silent worry speaking volumes.

"Oh, honey," Mom murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "We were so worried."

I lean into her hug, savoring the warmth and familiarity. "I'm okay, Mom," I reassure her, though the words feel hollow even to my own ears.

Dad pulls away, his eyes locking with mine. "Are you sure, sweetheart? You look a little pale."

I force a smile, hoping to allay his fears. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

Mia steps forward, offering a friendly smile. "We had a long day," she explains, her voice light and cheerful. "We're just looking forward to a relaxing weekend with you guys."

My parents seem to relax slightly, their smiles returning. "Well, come on in then," Dad says, gesturing towards the living room. "Make yourselves at home."

As we step inside, the familiar scents of home - freshly baked cookies and my mom's lavender candles - fill my senses. It's a comforting reminder of the life I once knew, a life that now feels so distant and unreal.

I quickly concoct a semi-truth. "Oh, and Mom," I add, trying to sound casual, "I've been preparing to switch to the night shift at the hospital. It starts in a week, so I'll be up most evenings and sleeping until late in the day."

Mia shoots me a knowing wink, her silent support bolstering my confidence.

"Okay, sweetheart," Mom replies, her voice filled with understanding. "Get some rest, and we'll see you both tomorrow evening."

We exchange a chorus of "love yous" before hanging up. Mia and I head upstairs towards my old bedroom, a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world.

As we step into my childhood bedroom, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. It's as if time has stood still. My posters of Justin Bieber, my teenage crush, still adorn the walls. The pink bedspread and matching curtains remain untouched, a testament to my younger self's obsession with all things girly.

Mia lets out a playful giggle, her eyes landing on a framed photo of us from our high school graduation. "Look at us," she says, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "So young and full of dreams."

I nod, my gaze tracing the familiar faces in the photograph. It's hard to believe that was only a few years ago. So much has changed since then. I graduated from medical school just two weeks ago, ready to embark on a fulfilling career as a doctor. But now...

My thoughts drift back to the night everything changed, the night I was attacked and turned into a creature of the night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memory is still fresh, the pain and confusion still raw. I was sleeping in this very room just two weeks ago, blissfully unaware of the darkness that awaited me. Now, everything is different. I'm not the same person anymore.

A lump forms in my throat, threatening to choke me. But I push it down, determined to stay strong for Mia's sake.

"It's okay, Evie," Mia says, her voice soft and reassuring. "We'll get through this. Together."

Her words bring a flicker of hope to my heart. I may be a vampire now, a creature of the night, but I'm not alone.

We spend the rest of the night sprawled across my old bedroom floor, digging through a treasure trove of shared memories. Dusty yearbooks, a tangle of earbuds connected to ancient iPods, and clothes we'd both sworn we'd thrown away years ago resurface, each item sparking a new wave of laughter and shared nostalgia.

"Oh my god, Evie!" Mia squeals, holding up a faded concert ticket. "One Direction! Remember this?"

I snatch the ticket from her, a grin spreading across my face. "How could I forget? We camped out for days to get those tickets!"

"And then you cried the entire concert," Mia teases, poking me in the ribs.

I swat her hand away playfully. "I did not!"

"Did too!"

We dissolve into giggles, the sound echoing through the room, momentarily banishing the darkness that lingers just beyond the walls. We stumble upon a stack of old CDs, their cases cracked and worn.

"Taylor Swift's 'Fearless'?" Mia exclaims, holding up the album with a nostalgic sigh. "We played this on repeat for months!"

"And then we'd have epic lip-sync battles to every song," I add, already humming the opening chords of 'Love Story.'

As the hours pass, the pile of forgotten treasures grows, each item a testament to our shared past. A worn copy of 'The Hunger Games' trilogy, a collection of friendship bracelets we'd painstakingly crafted, even a pair of ripped skinny jeans that should have been donated years ago.

"Seriously, Evie," Mia says, holding up the jeans with a look of mock horror. "What were we thinking?"

I shrug, unable to contain my laughter. "Hey, it was the style back then!"

As the first rays of sunlight peek through the curtains, we finally give in to exhaustion. We crawl into the king-size waterbed that's been in my room since my parents upgraded years ago.

Mia snuggles close, her warmth a comforting contrast to the chill that lingers beneath my skin. We fall asleep intertwined, just like we did countless times during those carefree high school nights. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of our shared past, I feel a sense of peace I haven't experienced in days. The world outside may be dark and uncertain, but here, in this room, with Mia by my side, everything feels just a little bit brighter.

Friday Week 2, May 2024

I blink my eyes open to a room shrouded in darkness. The heavy curtains, reinforced with thick blankets, effectively block out any trace of daylight. I secured them meticulously last night, a necessary precaution against the burning touch of the sun.

Stretching, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad across the room to gather my things. After a quick change into fresh clothes, I head downstairs, the smell of bacon and coffee enticing me towards the kitchen.

As I enter, I see my mom and Mia already seated at the table, plates piled high with breakfast. "Hey, honey," Mom waves, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Dad will be home soon."

Mia returns her smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Wait, it's almost 9 PM! Why are we having breakfast for dinner?"

I chuckle a hint of amusement in my own eyes. "Well, someone has to keep night shift doctor hours now," I explain, gesturing to myself. "And I'm not exactly a morning person, even when it's technically night."

Mom laughs, shaking her head. "Oh, Evie, you always were a night owl."

Just as we're finishing up, the front door creaks open, signaling Dad's arrival. He steps into the kitchen, a look of surprise crossing his face.

"Well, this is a sight for sore eyes," he exclaims, his gaze sweeping across the table laden with breakfast food. "Breakfast for dinner? What's the occasion?"

Mom chuckles, reaching out to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Evie's new schedule, remember? She's starting night shifts at the hospital next week."

Dad's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Already? I thought that was still a few weeks away."

I shrug, trying to maintain a casual demeanor. "They needed someone to fill in sooner than expected," I explain, hoping he won't probe any further.

He nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. "Well, as long as you're taking care of yourself," he says, his voice laced with concern. "Don't overwork yourself, Evie."

"I won't, Dad," I assure him, offering a reassuring smile.

He takes a seat at the table, joining us for the impromptu breakfast feast. As we eat, the conversation flows easily, filled with lighthearted banter and updates on family and friends. For a while, the weight of my secret fades into the background, replaced by the warmth and comfort of family.

After a while, Mom and Dad excuse themselves, yawning and stretching as they head upstairs to bed. "Don't stay up too late, girls," Mom reminds us with a smile.

Mia and I exchange a knowing glance. We clear the table, washing and drying the dishes in a comfortable silence. The familiar rhythm of the task is soothing, a welcome distraction from the turmoil swirling within me.

Once the kitchen is spotless, Mia turns to me, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "So," she begins, a playful lilt in her voice, "it's Friday night. Do you want to go out?"