Chap. 10 - What About Tomorrow
Published Jan 1, 2012

Written By



Page 1 / 94

After some consideration: "Nita's Return."
I bet you can guess who's back...
Yes: the well-loved and almost well-forgotten Nita, that is the identical twins sister of Anita, is BA-BA-BA-BACK!
So buckle your seatbelt(s) because...'cause this ought to be interesting. By that I mean this is a wierd-hybrid chapter, and you'll catch my full meaning if you read on...
And hey! Hope You Enjoy...

After some consideration: "Nita's Return."
I bet you can guess who's back...
Yes: the well-loved and almost well-forgotten Nita, that is the identical twins sister of Anita, is BA-BA-BA-BACK!
So buckle your seatbelt(s) because...'cause this ought to be interesting. By that I mean this is a wierd-hybrid chapter, and you'll catch my full meaning if you read on...
And hey! Hope You Enjoy...
“Wait—the last place you thought to look for me is WHERE I LIVE?”
Pilot managed to shrug in his current breathless state.
“Why are you out of breath? Were you running—why were you running?”
He threw himself into an, slightly, upright position. “I was…ah…”
I waited for him to swallow a breath, “…uh…looking for you, Evelyn…”
“Looking for me?”
He nodded—
“First,” he said, “I’ve got a question for you?”
“You weren’t at practice yesterday, and today I couldn’t find you at all—I called earlier to see if you were home; you’re mom said no.” He took a breath.
“What’s the—”
“Let me get to it…were you with that new kid again—Scott?” He sounded as if he really wanted to hear a ‘no’ of some sort.
“Seth.” I corrected instinctively. Disappointment practically enveloped Pilot. But he waited for my answer with a little hope.
“Yeah, I was.” I don’t think he could tell that I wish that I hadn’t.
The spark of hope disappeared, and he started again—disgust rising in his belly, though I don’t think it was aimed toward me—“Do you-um-do—Evelyn I was wondering if you-I-uh-would—what I’m trying to say IS—that-I-I-uh, I would like to know if you have any—urgh—I mean do you like…Sean?” I resisted the urge to correct him and say “Seth” and contemplated the answer to that question. Though the truth was it was a question that hardly needed contemplation; I was just wondering why I always said yes to Seth, no matter how much I, really, really wanted to say no; but somehow the word “no” always turned into a “yes” when it came to Seth, and not in that you’re-kiding-yourself-and-you-really-do-wanna-hang-out-with-him kind of way, but more so he-gives-me-the-creeps-and-I-wish-he’d-find-some-one-else-to-bother kind of way. In the thirty seconds for all those thoughts to cross my mind, Pilot’s trepidation rose—and I opened my mouth to dissuade his worries. “I like Seth about as mu—” A chirping sound sprang from an undisclosed place. Pilot, dolefully plucked his phone from his pocket. He turned from me and he had a very one-sided conversation with whoever was on the other end: Pilot hardly uttered a word.
He half glanced at me, muttered a good-bye—a restrained sadness curling inside of him—then darted away.
It only occurred to me later that I could feel every single one of Pilot’s emotions passing through him, upon further reflection I realized that was happening a lot recently. And I felt as if I was one the verge of a realization, and so before it could come to me I shut off that dangerous train of thought and closed my eyes and didn’t think; however it wasn’t that much later because I was still sitting on the porch when Seth pulled up. “But—wait!” I scream; Pilot hadn’t heard the end of my sentence, “I like Seth about as much as anyone likes the gum on the bottom of their shoe!” But he was already gone…I had forgotten how fast Pilot was. “Ya called.” He said smoothly. “No, I did not. What are you even doing here?”
“Like I said you called.”
“No, I did not.”
“Yeah,” He looked at a watch that wasn’t there, “About fifteen minutes ago—you said my name.”
A shiver dropped down, then up my spine. It was freaky when he did that.
But I didn’t bother to deny it—
“So, what do you want, Evelyn—do you want to talk?” He seemed a little to eager.
“What about?” I asked though I knew already.
“About what happened earlier today, with that guy.”
“I feel like I know him.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, “I mean—weird things have been happening lately…”
“Like what?” He said innocently, though I wasn’t paying him any attention.
“Like—like…” The rest died before it reached my tongue.
“Go on.” He said, but his voice was hard.
“I can feel people’s emotions, and tell when—” Oddly, I felt nothing from him except dead certainty; I changed my tune. “Explain about earlier.”
“Oh, you’re not going to leave me with that cliff hanger, are you?” He teased.
I was adamant.
“They guy was a long lost…acquaintance…of my father’s, anyway—you should stay away from him: he’s trouble.”
I didn’t say anything; I knew he was lying and I wanted to ask him why, but I curbed the impulse. Instead, “I want you to lea—”
Instead, he grabbed me to him—
A dangerous growl resonated.
“Lupe.” I cried and he offered up his belly; Seth, for a flashing second, seemed annoyed.
My mom’s feet hit the top step, “Oh, new friend—Evelyn?”
I forced a nod.
“Hmm, well I’m about to make dinner—would he like to stay?”
“No!” I received a curious look from my mom and Seth just looked amused, “It’s fine, Mom, he has to go home soon.”
“I do?” Seth raised his arms in a shrug.
He left soon enough.
Later, that night after dinner, I was sitting in my room contemplating if I wanted to get on the computer or read the book that sat not-so enticingly on my dresser, my feet had just hit the floor when I felt something shiver through me.
Then—a painfully silent tap as, I think, a pebble hit my window.
My first thought was: Pilot; maybe he had come back and had some more questions for me and I could fix this whole, great misunderstanding. And the thought led me to head towards my door— Lupe left out a whine: for some reason he slept in my room on the floor, in front of the entrance to my room, as if to bar my way or protect me or—something; even though he had a perfectly good and comfortable bed in the living room.
I knelt down and patted his head, “Don’t worry, it’s just Pilot, silly.”
Apparently, he didn’t believe me, because he followed me to the door.
It was only as I turned the knob that I realized that, truly, I had no reason to believe it was Pilot, just an innate desire.
And, as if to prove how wrong a person’s—my—instincts could be, it wasn’t. “Who are you?” I tried to add some force behind my words.
“You know my nephew—Zeth.”
I shuffled backward quickly; Lupe sprung in front of me and growled and barked for all he was worth. After only a glance, Lupe pitched forward and hit the floor—presumably asleep. I couldn’t help the loudness of my voice: “What did you do to my—”
“By all means, let the whole word know I’m here—” then she smiled “—or actually no: our voices don’t reach outside this room; so yell all you want, but do not waste too much of my time…” She waited.
I said nothing. She smiled again, baring her—sharp—teeth. “Good. Unlike my sister and her son, I have no stomach for games; and because you as of now still don’t know who and what you are; I have decided to step in—or, more so, step BACK in—” “WHAT are you?” I said simply. “Nowadays they’re called vampires and,” and somehow I knew what she was going to say next, or at least was expecting it, “you’re one as well, and you are also the heir to a vampire throne…” She paused. I was not, however, expecting that last bit; my mind and mouth stumbled to form words: “I-no-I—are you sure you have the right house?”
“Positive.” Her gaze was intense.
“You MUST have the wrong house…please?” Like any logical person, I didn’t believer her, but something inside of me wanted to. “I assure you—I don’t.” “But I’m not a vampire, really though, you’ve got the wrong girl—I’m not special really: I’m probably better left out of this—and hey, if I was a vampire wouldn’t I be allergic to garlic, or-oh, sunlight? Hmm? Wouldn’t I need to drink people’s blood?” “You sound so much like your brother…” They statement seemed to slip out.
“I have a brother now, too?”
“You’ve always had a brother, Evelyn, and he’s been looking for you—or at least I hope— for the last few weeks.
“Huh.” I managed, “What did you do to my dog?”
“You know its funny,” though I wasn’t laughing; neither was she, “I’m human now, but the abilities stayed. They’re not as powerful, yes, but still occasionally useful.”
“Abilities.” My voice sounded hollow even to me.
“Yes, you’ve got them too, though most of them are hidden from you and the causal observer—”
“Let me finish, hidden by that trinket on your arm; it was your mother’s favorite, given to her by her mother and so on—it’s your birthright. Only your mother saw fit to enchant it to make you appear human, so you could live a human life…”
“I am not aware of your mothers intentions, but I think she wanted to save you from this life—you and your brother.”
I shook my head, “Why are you telling me this? Why now?” My voice was steadily rising. “I don’t care!” And I couldn’t back down now—“Get out!”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Lupe was back on his feet.
I went to my room, Lupe following; I placed myself on my bed—
I didn’t sleep. *
After the outcome of his last attempt to acquire his stolen stone, he’d come here. His brain hadn’t yet come up with a logical reason for him to be here, and he didn’t think it would. His instincts had led him here, or actually, a heartbeat: faint but present.
Zeth is not a vampire fledgling. His wounded pride, the pride that had gotten itself served earlier that day, wouldn’t let him believe it. But he had a HEARTBEAT, faint BUT present; Nita’s voice came to him then; “Ah, but you forget, vampires do not have heart beats.”
And if what Nita said was true, and he’d was willing to believe it was, Zeth was either an incredibly powerful adolescent human, an incredibly powerful adolescent vampire fledging, or…he didn’t want to raise his hopes. Carter was about to take a step from the shadows when Zeth came charging down the steps, this time though—without a heartbeat. Carter watched carefully as Zeth swung himself onto his bike, he took a suspicious look around, then revved the engine and he was gone. Carter circled the house, twice. On his first round trip he spotted an open window but fought off the urge to immediately enter the house; he made sure there was no one inside the house—or at least anyone he could see. Then with a skeptical look plastered on his face, he hauled himself up. His feet thumped against the floor, and dust rose.
And, still he could feel the heartbeat, strumming through the air, and thrumming against the floorboards.
He explored the small house for almost an hour, and the heartbeat still pulsed to him, no closer and no father away. Though always faint but present. After a few more minutes he noticed a staircase; and that he really should pay more attention to his surroundings—he started down. It was a partially empty basement, occupied by a washer, dryer, and a sink.
He dodged the two columns in the middle of the room as he explored the small space.
If years were minutes, two decades passed before he noticed that the dimensions of the basement were off, which led him to— Near the forth wall, he’d come close to giving up, but as he approached the faint but present heartbeat had become no longer faint. Considering, he leaned against a section of the wall, only for it to give way behind him. He spun around and pushed against the brick. It took him several minutes but the rotating door gave little by little, “Smart, kid,” and then he was too focused on his current task to mumble anything else. On the other side he gave a muffled shout: he found it. Again he looked around, and then snatched the stone; pausing as if he expected it to be booby-trapped. It wasn’t.
So he made his exit. Stone clutched in his hands.
And that’s when she made her appearance.
“Nita.” He said, and his voice sounded as if he was trying not to scare off a wounded animal.
“We need to talk.”
“I-I—I thought you were, I mean, I don’t know what I thought you wer—”
“Not here—I see you’ve RE-acquired the stone; good. We should leave before my nephew returns—join me for a walk?” Like she even had to ask.

“Hey, guess whose back?”
“I CAN see, Markus—it’s Evelyn.”
“No—” Markus stifled a laugh “—your back; get it? ‘Cause I was tapping your—”
The third floor of the Red Rendezvous that was our “community center”.
“Please forgive Mark, he’s still reeling over the fact that you abandoned us—”
“—Three practices, Evelyn? You owe us an explanation—a good one too.”

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just…” I didn’t have an explanation and definitely not a good one. "Poppycock," then softened, “Please don’t tell me it was the weird new kid—” and Dawn was usually slow with the usage of the ‘w’ word “—Steve that dragged you off?”
“Seth…” I whispered, more to myself.
“Okay…” Ace stepped in, “this is a bad way to start off an intervention but—”
“Ah-what?” I said.
“You know…” Lukas drawled, “What people do in TV shows and movies…and in real life…you know—Hey! I was against this, personally if you want to hand over your ‘guitarist’ title and return to a ‘no-skilled-noob’ to hang out with some guy named Salem that wears all black and rides an overrated motorcycle… by all means, BY ALL MEANS…”
“What are you saying!?” Mark cried.
“BUT, I just wanted to say, it’s your life, and were just your friends, and we went through a lot together and—” “And if you want to waste all the good times we COULD be having with that loser, Stanley, who pretends to be a bad boy, which is completely cliché, instead of us you’ve got another thing coming!” Ace turned, “Guys shut up! Let me handle this,” muttering, “could start World War III if I let ‘em…” He motioned me down the stairs, to the empty second floor. “You don’t have to explain, if you don’t want to…they can be a little overbearing and…threatening, but they mean well. All I need to know is if you’re still committed to the band—otherwise?” “I was with Seth, during the last few practices?” I mumbled. “His name’s Seth—I was sure it was Sam…” He said seriously, “anyway, you’re WITH him?” I caught his meaning, “No! Not-at-all, you don’t have to worry about that.” “I’m not. Them,” he gestured upward, “and Pilot on the other hand.”
“Where is, Pilot?” I looked around as if he’d appear because I said his name.
“Looking for someone…supposedly. But I haven’t seen him all day. You?”
“No, yesterday, though.”
“Yeah, me too; talked to him after a dance recital of his sister’s; mom practically ordered him home so they could all get there early.”
After a pause. “So…”
“I wanna…I want to join you, I’m devoted—committed, can I play?” Ace smiled, “Of course, let me just test the water?” And he looped up the stairs.

It was nighttime, again, Nita sure knew how to waste away the hours. “So, basically, what you’re saying is that we have to protect her and teach her how to use her powers…”
“Why?—she may not even WANT to be taught anything, she may want us to just leave and, besides, I can’t teach anyone …”
“Why are you so full of self doubt, Demetrius, trust in yourself for once.” He finally recognized where they were.
THE pothole, it looked even more malicious in the lingering shadows of the night. Carter cursed, “They really should do something about this.”
“Hmm.” Nita said dismissively.

“Someone could fall…” He explained. “…And get hurt.” Carter added painfully. “Focus.” Nita ordered. “I still don’t know—” He clutched his stomach in pain and it rumbled raucously, it had been troubling him all day, “…sorry.” “When’s the last time you’ve sated your thirst?”
She offered up her wrist. “Oh, not this again—I’m not doing it, I almost drained you dry…last time—” “You are naive, Demetrius, if you do not drink SOMETHING’S blood you will wither away…to dust, this is a simple fact of afterlife for vampires. A fact of your…afterlife.”
“Huh. Well that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
She proffered her own wrist again.
“No! Nita,” his tone sharp, “Not now—not ever.” Though there wasn’t much conviction behind his words.
She looked at him hard.
He relented, “Maybe later…frankly, the thought of drinking ANYONE’S blood does my stomach enough damage.”
Something occurred to him: “I never thought to ask before now—you-r powers, are they…still with you?”
“In part.” She didn’t elaborate.
“I’m glad your alive,” his smile made an appearance.
“Me too.”
“But,” he rubbed his chin; “I just have to ask—what happened to you after I left.”
She smiled too, viciously, “That, my friend, is an entirely different story, but like I said: Anita isn’t as strong as she likes to think…” And they walked off, the night swallowing them up. I trust you had happy holidays, and if not…there’s always next year, speaking of next year: Happy New Year.
And do me one favor: consider this your better-late-than-never Holiday gift!
By the way, I Hope You Enjoyed.

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eviJan 4, 2012

I love the story! Your shots are great too humormeh\:\)

fabrizioammolloJan 2, 2012

I like the idea that everyone but Evelyn can't remenber Seth name. Afertall iy is said that there is a power in names.Very nice job and congrats on the feature!

GusluckyJan 2, 2012

Well done story! \:D Pictures fit perfectly to the text. Congrats on being featured \:rah\:

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