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Lying on the sidewalk of her slowly diminishing neighborhood, she looked up at the bugs flying around the flickering street lamp above her head. She lye in a pool of blood as she took one last shuttering breath. As she did, her mind flashed back to, not when she was a child, or the most important times in her life like people always say when they have near death experiences, but of two hours ago. In the half a second it took for her to take her last breath, she saw two hours happen as if all eternity waited for them. Two hours before she damned to a life of hell, two hours before she met him...
��� Christina sighed as the setting sun marked the fact that her overprotective drunken uncle and psychopathic aunt would soon be calling her into the house. It was only a matter of minutes until her freedom would be stripped from her. Trying to brush off the feeling of uncertainty, she kneeled down on her knees and gently picked up a butterfly, stretching its wing for the long awaited flight of the night. The yellow critter was no bigger than her thumb, but still it transfixed her. Maybe it was the freedom the small butterfly had that she could never dare wish for. Or maybe it was its complete ignorance to the dangers of the outside world. Whatever it was, it caused a tear to slip from her eyes. ��� She wiped it away quickly, then placed the creature on a leaf of a beat up Dogwood that stood on the corner of the darkened street, all alone. Deserted, it looked pathetic. As if the tree knew it was alone forever, its leaves were already browning in the middle of spring. ��� The cool air wrapped around her bare ankles and she kneeled down to grab her camera. She zoomed in the lens so the butterfly would be in the center of the photo, and the rest of the depressing dreary world, would fade into the background in a blue and brown haze. She snapped the shutter and then adjusted it again. As the shutter snapped a second time, the streetlamp overhead flickered on weakly. She sighed and was about to put her camera in her bag when her eyes fell upon a shadow in the distance. Although more than 100 yards away, her blonde hair seemed to glow in the darkness. Her breath was caught in her throat when the wind gently tugged at his overcoat. She could not help staring; she could not look away. She had not the will power to look away. Even closing her eyes would be a difficult task. Slowly, as if a spy out of a James Bond movie, she pulled the camera to her face. Looking through the lens, she stared at the stranger�s face. ��� It took her a second to realize he was staring right back at her. ��� Had it not been for the strap attached to the camera, which hung around her neck, the camera would have shattered to pieces on the ground at her feet. If only it had... ��� She lifted the camera once more, figuring that it was just a trick of the poor light overhead, she took another glace at the stranger. Yet again he was starting right back at her. She snapped a photo, not knowing why at the time. The camera seemed to reject the man, for it made a loud whirring sound. She hit it against her palm, with no luck. The shutter was jammed. She looked into it to see if she see what was wrong. When she looked up from it seconds later; the man was right in her face. She gasped and fell back, but before she even was aware of the fact that she was falling, he had her by the arm. His grip so fierce that it turned her fingers a horrifying shade of blue. She tried to cry out but he roughly forced her chin up, causing her too look dead into his eyes. Those pale gray eyes. The cat eyes. How could she ever look away? She closed her eyes weakly, suddenly exhausted, feeling as if she was floating. ��� The next thing she was aware of was a sharp pain in her neck. Although agonizing, she felt no fear. She was at peace for some reason. In the arms of this stranger, she felt at a peace. She heard the camera crash to the ground, and felt her legs go limp. She could feel his could arms supporting her weight. The next thing she was aware of was something running down the back of her throat. She rejected it. Her body rejected it. It tried to cough it up, but only gagged. She could taste her own salty blood running down the back of her throat. She attempted to open her eyes, but was unable to even take a breath. ��� She opened her eyes a few moments later. The bugs were gathering around the streetlamp above her head. She took a deep breath and looked to her side. She could see a man and woman slumped in the grass of her yard. The house, she thought, so close. She struggled to get up, but fell back to the wet asphalt below her. She could smell the blood everywhere. ��� Lying on the sidewalk of her slowly diminishing neighborhood, she looked up at the bugs flying around the flickering street lamp above her head. She lye in a pool of blood as she took one last shuttering breath. A face loomed in her vision, a laughing cruel face. The blood ran down the vampire�s lips as he stroked her three other sister�s heads. His cruel laugh ran through the air as she died beside the body of her uncle and his wife... 
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