Brazilian Accusation
“You are a vampire.”
“No, I’m not,” defended the girl innocently.
The large Brazilian man smiled at her, almost poking fun at her naivety. “Most vampires claim to not know that they are vampires, but you most definitely are a vampire. Who bit you? Let me see your neck.”
Staring at him inquisitively, the girl raised an eyebrow.
Brushing the golden strands of her hair away from her neck, the Brazilian gasped. “I knew it.”
“What?”
Grimacing at her sincere innocence, he stated flatly, “you have bite marks on your neck. How can you deny that you are a vampire if you have bite marks on your neck?”
“Those are just two zits next to each other from my hair being on my neck,” she objected.
“Tell yourself whatever you want,” he sat back smugly. “Tu es une vampira; une vampiress.”
Setting her jaw in a way that made her lips almost pout, she objected again. “I’m not a vampire.” An evil grin spread across her lips, “am I?”
“Yes, young one.” Poking a fat finger in between her lips, he exposed her sharp canines and smiled knowingly. “Look at your wonderfully sharp teeth.”
“I’ve always had pointy teeth. Aren’t canines supposed to be pointy? They are for tearing and shredding.”
Reaching over, he grabbed a gold tray off of his desk that held a freshly picked six-inch bud. He ignored her comment and began to break up the marijuana.
“Am I really a vampire?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he glanced up from his project, shooting her seriously look, intensified by his Brazilian features. “Do you dwell at night?”
“Well, it’s against my religion to be out too much during the day,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I see,” he placed a chunk of pot into the grinder and began to twist it down. “There is nothing physically wrong with your body either.”
“What do you mean? I have arthritis,” she whined.
“I mean, to look at you, there is nothing wrong with your body. You have no abnormalities. You are of sound structure, physically fit and attractive.”
“Well, I try,” she blushed.
“How many times do people have to tell you?” He stated firmly, “you don’t have to try.”
“But I do! I work out and do sit-ups, go power walking…” she trailed off.
“Yes, but there is no reason for that. It is a waste of your time,” he began to twist the green grindings up into a paper.
“So, you’re saying that I can just stop working out and it’ll be all good?”
“Sure.”
“What are you talking about? I have to fight to keep from getting fat. I think about food and gain weight,” she protested.
“Didn’t you just tell me the other day that you have been the same size since middle school?”
“I have been…”
“See?” Handing her a joint and a lighter, he commented, “now smoke this.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
“But it’s not going to cure that thirst.”
She paused as she was about to light the doobie. “What are you talking about?”
“Does it ever seem like, no matter how much you smoke or drink, you still have a craving? Doesn’t it seem like you can never quite get high any more?”
Sparking the lighter, she puffed. “I thought that was what they call a tolerance.”
“Poor vampira,” he cooed. “Don’t worry. Most vampires do not know that they are dead already. Many times, their parents do not know either.”
Passing the joint and exhaling, she questioned, “what?”
“I said most vampires don’t know that they’re dead. They suck off of people to get what they want. That neighbor of yours, he’s a vampire, too. He doesn’t know that he’s dead either.” He hit the joint and passed it back to her.
Grabbing the paper rolled cannabis cigarette, she sat dumbfounded for a second, her jaw dropped open. Puffing on the crippie, she contemplated silently.
“Nothing seems to hold the excitement that it once did, does it? You’ve grown jaded to the world, but some of the strangest things seem to bring about a smile. Your innocence is almost like a child at times. People may look at you strange, but you shrug them off. You don’t care. You’re dead. You have a high tolerance to pain and suffering, and you can even heal yourself.”
“Well,” she handed him the green, “I did teach myself how to walk again after the doctors said I never would.”
“Your body healed itself, didn’t it?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t about to go into surgery, even though my pelvis was broken and my spine was crushed.” Her statement made her pause in thought again.
Poking her thoughts while passing her Mary Jane, he bullied, “and you say you’re not a vampire?”
“Who’s a vampire?” A voice echoed from behind them. Synchronically, they turn to see Grace standing in the doorway.
“She is,” he pointed at the girl.
“No, I’m not,” she handed Grace the joint.
“Oh, I know she is,” Grace chuckled darkly. “Let me ask you though, from your accident, can you have children?”
“I’m not sure,” the girl struggled to answer, remembering painfully. “The doctors said that I might be able to, but it would not be pleasant. They mentioned that it would be best if I did not have kids, because of all the internal damage I had. Frankly, I know of a couple times that I should have had kids, but I never got pregnant, like the seed would not take when it should have. I mean, I don’t make it a practice to have unprotected sex, but if you’re with someone for a while…”
“Oh, I understand,” Grace smiled sheepishly.
“But it is something that I’m not one-hundred percent on,” the girl quieted.
DO YOU THINK BLACK WIDOW CAN HAVE A CHILD?
YES, Click for Damien
NO, click for the Poison Ring
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