She stands at the edge of the cliff looking down, and her dark, blue eyes sparkle as she looks over the ocean. She never could forget this one spot, could never push it out of her mind. She dreamt of it too often, and now, as if by magic, she was standing there looking over the ocean lit up by the light of the full moon. This kind of Friday night doesn't come around often. The wind rustles her raven black hair, and an evil smile forms on her beautiful face. She knew what to do. Now the question was, how was she going to do it? She looks up at the sky. It's clear, not a cloud in sight with every single star visible. Her dark hair made her skin even more pale, and her full lips even more red. Anya sat down carefully so as not to fall over, and her eyes never left the ocean. The night was warm for early April, but for her, it was always cold. She couldn't remember the last time she felt warm...or loved. Lost deep in thought, she hadn't realized that most of the night had slipped away. The sun would be up soon, and she had to get back. She didn't want anyone to notice that she was gone.
She slept until noon and still didn't want to move. The sun was shiny, high, and bright - all the things she wasn't feeling. Anya remembered being on the cliff, but she didn't remember how or when she got home. Everything was just blank after that. She sat up, lit up a Marlboro menthol, and turned on her radio. She went over to her closet and chose a black leather tank top and black leather pants. She was twenty-one years old, and everyone who knew her or saw her was scared, turned on, or both. They had many reasons to be scared. The last guy who hit on her would never be hitting on another innocent girl for the rest of his life. How could he if he has no tongue? He thought he could rape her and kill her - she read his thoughts. Another drunk asshole's mistake. Walking into the bathroom, she turns on the water and gets into the shower. The water runs in red streams from her dripping hair and onto her body. She stifles a scream knowing it won't help her situation because she'd just be drawing attention to it. This wasn't the first time she woke up not remembering a thing and then had to wash blood out of her hair. She also knew this wasn't going to be the last. She wished she could remember what happened the night before, but her wishes never come true. She got out of the shower knowing that what she did last night would come to her on its own - as it usually did.
She pulls on her clothes and knows she looks incredible. Her clothes show off every curve in her body, and she knows she has a great one. She lights another cigarette and heads downstairs where her mom and "the king" are. She always hated her stepfather. Her parents knew how special their daughter was and her stepfather didn't even care. If he knew at all, at least then he would respect her.....maybe he would stop hitting on her. If he didn't respect her, fine. She could live with that, but he didn't respect her mother either, and that made her angry.
"Hey, Anya. Give me the rest of that cigarette."
"Go buy your own pack, Josh."
She walks by and he slaps her ass. She gets angry, but lets it go, as she always does. She knew if she let her anger out, she'd kill him, and she didn't want her mother to see that.
"Anya, would you like something to eat?"
She walks over to her mother and hugs her.
"No, thanks Mom. I'm going out."
"But you just woke up!"
She knew she wanted her to stay, but she needed to calm down. Josh pissed her off to no limit.
"I know, Mom, but I..." She couldn't finish, didn't want to. Instead, she sat down at the table.
An hour later, she was out driving aimlessly in her cherry red mustang. She loved her car. There was nothing else in her life to love. Men only wanted to fuck her, and she was sick of everyone and everything. For some reason, her mind drifted back to Josh. She will never forgive him for what he tried to do to her three years ago.
She got home late that night and was in bed for about five minutes when her door opened. Her stepfather was in his boxers, and he was hard. She couldn't help but notice because he didn't even try to hide it. She found the sight disgusting. She recognized the look in his eyes; she'd seen it a dozen times before, but she couldn't scream. He just kept coming closer, and when he touched her, that was it. She grabbed his arm and broke it. Neither one of them said anything to her mother. She never wanted to think about it again.
Her foot went further down on the accelerator as she got more pissed off. She had to be driving for a few hours by now, and she didn't even know where she was heading. After driving for a few more minutes, she passed a sign:
Welcome to New York
. She had driven all the way to New York from Virginia! This was crazy! Had she been thinking about things for that long? How fast had she been driving? She had to get back home. Her mother would begin to worry..... .
The car pulled in by a night club, and from the looks of it, the place was alive! She walked inside without a problem, and as the loud music hit her, it made her feel as if she was alive again. She loved alternative music, and Marilyn Manson's "Sweet Dreams" was what everyone was jumping to. She surveyed the crowd. No one interesting, a few potential friends, many potential victims. As she stood there, few people bothered to notice her, but no one tried to touch her. Her aura gave them all the advice to stay away. The song ended, and the techno music began its reign over the club. She walked over to the bar and ordered a screwdriver. She hated them but wanted something stronger than her usual, Alize. She got her drink and finally noticed the guy sitting next to her. His eyes were the same shade as hers, but his hair was brown and short. She had seen him before, but she couldn't figure out from where. Usually, she had no problem placing people.
"Hey, Anya. Long time no see."
"Hey."
He knew her name; how could he have known her name?! She wished she remembered where she knew him from.
"Don't remember me, do you?" His face was beautiful, so was his smile.
"No, sorry, but I don't. I wish I did, though. I remember your face, but not your name."
"Anya, you always had such a wonderful memory. Don't tell me it's failing you now." He stared into her eyes; neither one could look away.
"I hope it's not..."
"I have something that might spark your memory."
"Oh, really? What is it?" She loved to flirt, and with him, it was almost natural.
"Close your eyes."
She did because for some reason, she trusted him. She could feel him coming closer. She could smell him even though there were so many other people around them. She loved the way he smelled. Slowly, he kissed her. It was a soft but deep kiss, and she could feel it throughout her entire body. Then, it ended as suddenly as it began.
"Mmmm, Jack, why'd you stop?" As soon as she said it, she was shocked. How could she have forgotten him? Was because he left her...without any sign, notice, or anything? He just disappeared one morning...
"I don't know. So, how have you been?"
"Why do you care?" She asked, the bitterness entering her voice.
"Because I've been worried. I know you haven't been yourself. You're starting to slip, love."
God, she missed his accent, she missed him.
"Don't' call me love, Jack. You have to right to do that anymore, and I'm not starting to slip."
"Anya..."
He was putting her under his spell again. His heart was once again calling out to her...
She loved men with British accents, but there was something special about this one in particular. He was gorgeous, and he caught her attention as soon as she stepped into the club. He approached her, and little by little, they got to know each other. They met at the club every night, dancing and drinking the night away. She loved spending time with him, and for the first time in her life, she began to fall in love with someone. Their first kiss was incredible, and the first time they make love was indescribable. For some reason, he never spent the night with her. She longed to wake up and see him laying next to her, but that never happened. She didn't know that if that did happen, she'd wake up thinking he was just some random guy, but he knew... He knew that her subconscious was keeping her nightlife a secret from her. He also knew why - she wasn't ready to accept it. So one day, he saw her walking out on the streets and decided he'd introduce himself. They talked, and when they got to know each other better she told him she dreamt of him. He wasn't surprised... That night, he gave into her begging him to spent the night, but he couldn't go through with it, so he left. They hadn't spoken since, and Anya hadn't loved anyone since. That was three and a half years ago.
"Jack, why are you here?" She asked coldly.
"I'm here to enjoy myself. Maybe even fulfill my hunger. Why are you here? You and your family moved to Virginia after I left."
"I don't know." She suddenly wondered what she was doing there.
"You were drawn here, weren't you? You're finally ready to let both your lives come together." He was hoping that was why she was there; he had prayed for it.
"No, Jack. I know the part of me that's human still isn't ready for this."
"But you've been dropping hints?" He was still hopeful.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to let you back into my life. Don't you think hurting me once was enough?!" She stood, ready to walk away.
Jack grabbed her arm. "I never meant to hurt you. I love you."
"Then why did you leave?" She walked away from him, out of the club, and into the night. She wouldn't feed tonight; her appetite was gone, and her reason for coming to New York was pointless.
She called home telling her mom she wasn't coming home that night; she was staying over a friend's house. It wasn't a complete lie because she still had friends she could stay with here. She just had to look them up. She drove around New York aimlessly, just getting to know the place again. She missed living in the big, noisy city. Looking in her rear-view mirror, she saw the same car that was behind her ten minutes ago. Whoever was in that car was following her, and she wanted to know why. Anya sped up, and so did the car behind her. Every turn she made, the other car kept up. Finally, she got fed up and pulled her car over. She got out and stood by her mustang. The car pulled over behind her. The driver watched her get out and stand by her pride and joy. He decided it was time to show himself - again.
He made her wait a little while longer until he could see she was getting impatient. When he stepped out of the car, he saw the look on her face go from angry to shocked to angry again. He did everything in his power not to start laughing. He walked over to her.
"Jack, why were you following me? Didn't you get the hint the first time around?"
