Thea: A Vampire Story Read online

  “What the hell is this?” I scream; both fists clenched in rage.

  “Mum, it’s not what you think,” Thea pleads. But it’s too late. She can reel off every cliché in the book, but it won’t undo a thing.

  “Get the fuck out of this house!” I shout to the boy as he grabs his jeans from the floor and pulls them under the quilt. “Right now!”

  “Please, Mum,” Thea sobs, “he just came over to talk. We just fell asleep. Nothing happened, I swear.”

  “Do you think I was born yesterday?” I ask, grinding my teeth. “Do you?”

  The boy leaps out of bed wearing just his jeans and socks. He scans the room, clearly looking for the rest of his clothes.

  I see his t-shirt on the floor by my feet. Scooping it up, I throw it at him. He catches it and slips it on. “Get out now!”

  “I can’t find my shoes,” he says, his eyes darting around the room.

  “I don’t give a shit about your fucking shoes,” I say. “You can walk home without them. Now out!”

  He scurries past me, but stops in the doorway. “I’ll call you tomorrow, babe,” he says as if this was nothing but a minor inconvenience, something to laugh about in school.

  So I drive my fist into his face.

  The little prick cries out in pain, cupping his bleeding nose with both hands. Who’s laughing now you dirty pervert!

  “Mum!” Thea screams. “What have you done?”

  I spot a pair of white trainers behind the door. “Here’s your fucking shoes,” I say, ramming them into his bare chest. “Now piss off!”

  The boy darts across the landing, one hand on his nose, the other holding his shoes by the laces. I follow him down the stairs and watch him scuttle out the front door like some frightened animal. By the time I return to Thea’s room, she’s already dressed in her pyjamas, sitting on the bed, crying into her palms.

  “You punched him!” she yells. “Why would you do that?”

  Standing in the doorway, I shake my head. How can she be so naïve? Did she really think that I’d put up with something like this? “You promised me that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes Ivy made,” I say. “Well look at where we are now.”

  “You’re horrible!” she screams at the top of her voice.

  “Good! I’m not here to be your friend. I’m your mother, and letting you have sex with some boy—while you’re still a child—is completely out of the question.”

  “But I’m not a child! I’m thirteen years old. I’m a teenager! When are you going to let me live a normal life?”

  I let out a short laugh. “A normal life! This isn’t normal behaviour. You can’t go letting boys just take advantage of you. You’ll only end up getting hurt—or worse.”

  “You can’t stop me seeing him!”

  “Oh yes I bloody can,” I say, smugly, as I grab Thea’s mobile phone from her bedside cabinet.

  Frantically, Thea crawls across the bed towards me. “That’s mine!” she yells, trying to snatch it from my hand.

  “I’m confiscating this,” I say, stepping back, away from her reach. “I won’t let you mess up your life anymore.”

  Thea gets up from the bed and tries to grab it again. “Give it back! You can’t do that! We were only kissing. Honestly, Mum.”

  Putting the phone behind my back, I hold out my hand to stop her getting any closer. “It’s too late, Thea. You’re not getting this back until you grow up.”

  “I hate you!” she screams, still trying to steal the phone from my hand. “I wish you were dead!”

  Thea suddenly freezes, clearly shocked at what just came out of her mouth.

  But she can’t possibly be as shocked as me.

  Thea’s room falls deathly silent.

  For once we’re both lost for words, my throat and mouth dry.

  “I’m sorry, Mum,” she says, bursting into tears again. “I didn’t mean that. It just slipped out.”

  I don’t answer. I can’t. My brain is empty, clouded by alcohol and dismay. So I say nothing, just walk out with the phone, heading for my bedroom. Thea doesn’t follow. Just before I step inside, I notice the two mugs of hot chocolate, sitting on the table, the marshmallows melting into a soup of creamy sugar. It’s only hot chocolate, but the sight still bites at my heart. I close my bedroom door, too drained even to slam it, and lie on my bed, wondering how the hell that little fuck got in? Did he slip past me? No way. Up the drainpipe and through Thea’s window.

  Dirty fucking pig!

  I ram the phone into my jeans pocket, close my eyes, and then start to cry again.

  15

  I wake to the sound of tapping on my door.

  Did I fall asleep? No, impossible. I only closed my eyes for a second. I check the clock on the bedside cabinet: 9:40 P.M.

  I rub my eyes, the effects of the alcohol seemingly much worse, and then swing my legs off the bed and onto the carpet.

  There’s another tap on the door.

  “Come in,” I say, croakily. I cough hard to clear my throat.

  The door opens, and Thea is standing in the doorway; her eyes and lips red and puffy. The girl’s been crying her heart out. A sudden wash of guilt comes over me. Did I overreact?

  No, of course I didn’t.

  Thea steps inside the room, the corners of her lips hanging low. I think she’s about to cry again. “Come here,” I say, holding out my arms. She bursts into tears and rushes over to me. I hug her tightly as we sit on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m sorry, Mum,” Thea sobs, her words muffled by my shoulder. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry.”

  We pull out of the hug at the same time. “I know that, honey,” I say, holding her hand. “And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have hit him. I suppose we were both angry.”

  “I know he shouldn’t have come over. It was only meant to be for two minutes. I think he thought it would be romantic if he climbed the drainpipe to my window.”

  “Well, maybe in a few years it will be. But right now you’re just too young for things like that. Life isn’t a movie, Thea. At that age, all boys are interested in is sex. It’s illegal for a bloody good reason.”

  “Okay, Mum,” Thea replies, but her eyes suggest that she thinks the exact opposite. She’ll get there though. One step at a time.

  I kiss her on the cheek. “I hate fighting with you, Thea.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You’re all I have left.”

  She hugs me again. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mum. I can look after myself.”

  Smiling, I stare at her with pride, wondering how the hell she grew up so fast. “I don’t doubt it,” I tell her.

  Thea gets up. “I’m going to bed now. I’m a little tired.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  She leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “Good night, Mum.”

  “Goodnight,” I reply, beaming. “Sleep tight.”

  She makes her way over to the doorway, but then stops and turns to me. “Oh, and I’m sorry about the hot chocolates. They must be cold by now.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can always make more.”

  A giant smile spreads across Thea’s beautiful face. “That’d be nice.”

  “No problem. Why don’t you get yourself into bed and I’ll bring a mug in for you. How does that sound?”

  “Thanks,” she says, heading for her bedroom.

  When I hear her door close, I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t expect Thea to be so quick to forgive me. After all, I did probably break her boyfriend’s nose. Oh well. I’m just thankful we finally had it out with each other. Sometimes it takes shit like this to realise that things need to change.

  Still a little unsteady on my feet, I walk over to the wardrobe mirror. I stare at my face, my eyes. I almost don’t recognise the person looking back at me. Have I always had bags under my eyes? I prod the loose skin hanging under my chin. And when did I grow a double bloody chin?

  It’s the booze. It’s got to stop. The
a’s right: how am I meant to be a good mother if I’m half-cut all the time.

  I rub my tired eyes and release a loud yawn. Just as I do, the photo frame on the chest of drawers catches my eye. I pick it up and stare at it with a smile. It’s a picture of when the three of us went to Turkey. It was easily my favourite holiday. Cost me an arm and a leg, but it was worth every penny. Ivy seems so happy too. Those last few years—I can’t remember her smiling once. But here, she looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world. We all do. And Thea—she’s so young in this. She must have been about four years old, but she looks like a baby. I shake my head in astonishment. Where does the time go? Thea’s already in secondary school, already has a boyfriend. How the hell did that happen? I feel like I’ve leaped forward ten years, without even knowing. I can feel myself welling up a little. I don’t want to cry anymore, so I kiss the photo, and then put it back down.

  Hot chocolates all round, I think.

  I leave the bedroom and pick up the disused mugs from the table, and then walk downstairs to the kitchen. Who needs wine, anyway. Flicking the switch on the kettle, I pull out two fresh mugs from the cupboard and drop in the cocoa powder. After a minute or so, when the kettle has boiled, I start to pour the water into the mugs. Just as I’m about to grab a handful of marshmallows, I feel something vibrate in my pocket. Reaching in, I feel Thea’s phone. I forgot I still had this. Pulling it out, I see that she’s had a Facebook message. It’s from Jared. My body starts to grit. Should I read it?

  No. Don’t do it, Sarah.

  But then, as if running on autopilot, I push the Facebook icon to read the message.

  Jared: “Hi babe. Tonight was pretty fucked up. I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”

  I think about racing back upstairs to Thea’s room, confiscating the iPad as well, but instead I watch the screen as each message pops up.

  Thea: “Tell me about it. Mum took my phone. DISASTER!!! I’m using the iPad instead. How’s the nose? X”

  Jared: “Well it’s stopped bleeding, so that’s a plus.”

  Thea: “You poor baby xxxx”

  Jared: “ So what did she say when I left? I bet she went ape shit?”

  Thea: “Yeah. But it’s sorted now. I apologised, and now she’s downstairs making me a hot chocolate.”

  Jared: “Really! Even though she caught you with your top off?”

  Thea: “Yep. I can handle Mum. She’s drunk. She likes to shout a lot, but it’s all bark and no bite.”

  Jared: “Well that’s good. Are you still up for Sunday? You’re not having second thoughts?”

  Thea: “No chance. I’m in one 100%. Now more than ever! X”

  Jared: “Do you think your Mum will come looking for you? I mean, she seems pretty fucking crazy to me.”

  Thea: “Yeah, she’ll come. And she’ll send an army looking for us.”

  Jared: “And that doesn’t put you off?”

  Thea: “No. It’ll be hard and upsetting for a while, but I have to do this. If I stay here then I’m never going to get a normal life. I’ll be fourteen in a few months. I should be allowed to have a boyfriend and a sober mother.”

  Jared: “That’s good to know. I love you x”

  Thea: “I love you too. I’ll message you tomorrow x”

  Jared: “Okay, babe. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

  Thea: “Ha. Two seconds with my mother and already you’ve lost your mind. Nite xxx”

  Staring down at the phone, I suddenly feel lightheaded. Was all that just a sick, twisted joke to get back at me? It must be! Thea would never run away from home. No matter how bad things got. We stick together in this family. We don’t run from our problems. We face them head on.

  I have to sit down on the kitchen chair, rereading the messages, hoping, praying, that I misinterpreted them. My hand starts to shake. I feel nauseous. I read the messages again; this time they feel even more torturous. She can’t leave me. She’s all I’ve got left. I’d rather die than lose her. I scroll down to read the older messages, hoping to find some clue as to why she would do something like this. Maybe he’s putting pressure on my little girl. It can’t just be me. If he is forcing her, I’ll fucking crush him. No one hurts my baby. She’s not running away. I’ll lock her in her room if I have to. Stop her going to that fucking school for starters. She doesn’t need that place. I can home-school her. She’ll learn more, and be less distracted by druggy boys and worthless friends.

  I won’t lose another daughter!

  I put the phone down on the table and then wrench the cupboard open, pulling out the bottle of vodka. Unscrewing the top, I start to down the liquid, gulping it like water on a hot day. Ignoring the rancid taste, the acid in my throat and stomach, I finish a quarter of the bottle with ease. I belch loudly as I slam the bottle down on the worktop. The vodka does nothing to calm the rage that’s bubbling up inside. In fact all it’s done is enhance it. I grab Thea’s phone again, about to reread the messages, but instead I draw my arm back, and launch the thing across the room. It smashes into pieces the moment it hits the wall, fragments of glass and plastic scattering all over the floor. Heart hammering hard, barely able to catch a breath, I take another huge swig of vodka, slam the bottle down even harder this time, and then storm out of the kitchen.

  We’ll see who’s running away!

  Just as my foot hits the first step of the staircase, I stop. I know exactly what will happen if I confront her. Thea will deny it all; tell me that it was just a prank to get back at me. We’ll have another screaming match and then we’re back to square one. She’s already made her mind up. That little fucker of a boyfriend has already snaked his way into her heart, introduced her to drugs —clawed his way into her bed. I see Ivy and me sitting in the clinic; the last place I ever thought we’d be. It still haunts me. I never wanted her to have the abortion. But what choice did she have? She was fifteen, for Christ’s sake! She was scared, hooked on coke, and with a deadbeat boyfriend. I thought that that would be the end of all her problems; I thought getting rid of the baby would make her see the light. But I was wrong. I foolishly imagined that screaming at her would get her to see sense, to leave Callum in the gutter. I was wrong about that, too. There’s no one in the world that can talk Thea out of leaving Jared and staying here with me. She’s too stubborn—just like all the women in this family.

  It’s our curse.

  So what the hell am I suppose to do? Let her walk out. If I lock her in, she’s bound to slip away. And all I’d be giving her is another reason to run away. But Thea’s strong and wise. She’ll soon see that this is stupid. She’s just a baby; she’s got no money, no street smarts. She’ll get killed out there in the real world.

  Like Ivy.

  No!

  I bang my fist down onto the banister in anger, the force and sound travelling up to the landing.

  I feel sick so I sit down on the stairs, the vodka already taking effect. The entire house feels like it’s caught in a tornado, forcing me to close my eyes. And there’s Jared again, only this time there’s no look of terror on his face. This time there’s a huge grin as he cuts up a small white rock with a razor blade, turning it into powder. Thea is next to him; her beautiful blue eyes glazed over and bloodshot; her young thin body, starved of life, drained from the inside.

  And now Thea is holding the razor as Jared sits next to her on the bed. Her eyes are barely open; too fucked up to know what she’s doing. She hovers the blade over her wrist.

  No. I don’t want to see this.

  Jared strokes her blonde hair as she presses the blade against her skin.

  She starts to cut.

  No!

  My eyes spring open in horror.

  Thea is mine!

  Not his!

  And with that, I stomp back into the kitchen, slamming my shoulder drunkenly against the doorframe. Unable to see straight, I reach for one of the mugs of hot chocolate, but miss the handle completely. I have to strain to focus my vision, but man
age to grab it on my second attempt. I finally know exactly what I have to do. I hobble across the hallway towards the stairs, spilling some of the drink in the process. Something that I should have done for Ivy. Stumbling dangerously up the stairs, I hold on tightly to the banister for support. Snippets of Ivy’s funeral start to invade my mind. The massive turn out, the horror of watching them lower my little girl into a dirty grave; Thea and Mum beyond tears, beyond words. I almost fall into my bedroom, spilling more hot chocolate over the carpet. I close the door and then set the mug down on the bedside cabinet. I’d rather die than see another daughter stuffed into a wooden box. I yank my sock drawer open, reach inside and sift through all the loose socks. My fingers touch the vial of vampire blood, so I pull it out.

  This is for your own good, my princess. The real world is a loathsome place. There’s too much pain outside. In here, with me, is safe. I’ll protect you from the monsters, and the pain. You won’t get sick, and you’ll never die— because your mother loves you. More than anything.

  I twist open the lid and pour the blood into Thea’s hot chocolate. There’s no spoon, so I use a pen to stir the mug until the dark red colour mixes with the chocolate. Images of Thea and Ivy flood my thoughts as I stare at the contaminated drink—before life got dark and cruel, a happy time before Callum and Jared infected my babies.

  My vision still blurred, I leave the bedroom and walk over to Thea’s door, this time making sure that I don’t spill a single drop. I take a few deep breaths, trying to sober up, and then knock the door. Thea opens it straight away, smiling. It’s fake. How could she be smiling when she’s so close to leaving me?

  “Thanks, Mum,” she says when she spots the hot chocolate. “Looks great.”

  I hesitate for a moment, but then hand her the drink, returning a smile. But mine is real.