Blood Bound

Chapter 8: A small reprieve

"So what happened then?" I ask.

Sophie has been silent for a few minutes after finishing her story. She sits on the bundle of dirty clothes, her eyes closed as if listening to the sounds coming from outside the shack. "Hmm?"

"Well, what happened afterwards?"

She scoffs. "Well, I'm here, aren't I?" she says, releasing her legs from her crossed-legged pose, massaging them as she straightens them. "Still kicking and stuff."

"So everything went alright with that Council? They let you off?" I ask, as I feel the stiffness in my own legs, having been standing there the whole time.

"Yup, as long as Gregory kept an eye out for me, I was free to go wherever I wanted," replies Sophie, smirking.

"Was that your guardian's name? Was it that vampire who rescued you from. . .from that place?" I do not go into details with her confinement since Sophie has been so helpful in providing that information. I suspect it has helped her somewhat to tell someone about it. It usually helps me to notify my parents if I am having a panic attack and they would help me through it, either verbally or non-verbally. I am therefore a little bit relieved for her sake that she has managed to convey her sad tale to someone, even if that someone was me.

Sophie nods but says nothing more, still massaging her sore legs.

"So what did he teach you?" I askcuriously. Despite the gripping horror to it all, I have to admit that I am enthralled, almost enchanted by it. When Sophie is this calm, she almost looks like a regular girl who had a knack for telling terrible ghost stories. I almost forgot what she really was.

Sophie shakes her head. "Go home, Leia," she says, rising to her feet and picks up a black leather jacket that hangs on the wall by a crooked nail. "It's getting late and you don't wanna be hanging out with a vampire this late at night."

I look at my watch and to my horror, see that it is almost eight thirty! Way past my own curfew! I'm usually home around seven on weekdays. My parents must be worried sick about me. I check my phone and sure enough, there are five missed calls from my mom.

"I have to go!" I blurt out and storm out of the shack, hearing amidst the clatter of shopping carts and the crackling fire from the barrels, Sophie's laughter.

****

My face is cold and wet. Water falls down from my face in small droplets as I continue to splash it on myself in front of the bathroom sink. I'm back home, part relieved and part horrified. Relieved that I survived this ordeal of mine and that I'm back in my familiar place and warmth, but horrified after listening to Sophie's story in the shack that was filled with the stench of blood.I was so afraid that my clothes and hair smelled of it that I rushed inside the bathroom as soon as I entered my home while yelling to my mom that I was going to take a bath.

So here I am, drenching my face with ice-cold water despite the fact that I had been just outside in the freezing cold. I can't help it; It's like with every splash, that I wish that it could wipe away the knowledge I have just aquired over the evening. If only if it was that simple. There's no way I can block it out, my brain simply refuses to do that. It's like it's trying to convince me that it could be of some use later in my life and even if I try to contradict it, it simply counters that at least it was nice to see Sophie again and even better that she spared our lives.

I chuckle out loud at the thought and sarcastically, I think how convenient it was that Sophie had been full tonight. I turn off the faucet and drain the sink, my face is freezing by now, and turn on the hot water for the bathtub. While it's leisurely filling with hot water, I start to undress and throw my clothes, piece by piece, into the washing machine that was next to the bathtub. Even though the stench might not have carried over to my clothes, I don't want to take any chances so I fill it up, put some detergent inside as well as a hefty amount of lavender-scented fabric softener and push the start button.