Jonas Wild was a kid in my seventh grade class. What set him apart from the rest of us was that Jonas Wild was in fact, a vampire.
Or so he thought, at least. I have to admire him for his awesome imagination, but it was his imagination that lead him to turn me into a vampire. Or so he thought, at least.
Jonas Wild was like any other 13 year old, at least on the outside, except somewhere along the way he deviated from the tracks everyone else followed. Which is cool, I’m all for everyone being different, but he was too different, if you understand that. Like, for instance, we were in the computer lab together, and the teacher allowed us to play games online for the last fifteen minutes of class. I look over, and he’s shaving someone online. Not like shaving hair or anything, but shaving the skin from their virtual body. At this point, it was no big surprise to me, but what I saw next weirded me out. You can name the body you’re torturing, and the name “CHASE JORDAN” was written in big red leaders above the, what is now, a bloody corpse. That’s my name, I’m Chase, the one and only Chase Jordan. He was torturing me, although virtually. Still weird. Still made me think I was on his graduation hit-list. Anyways, a while later, this obviously disturbed boy, who honest-to-heaven believed he was a vampire, was eventually on top of the jungle gym. Not having a grand old time that jungle gyms typically cause, but he was afraid. A group of kids surrounded the base of the playground classic. They were throwing garlic salt at him. Garlic and vampires don’t mix. Or so he thought, at least. I’m not big on the whole bullying thing, and even though he creeped me out, I thought I should do something. This poor kid did nothing to these people, literally not a thing. So I trekked my way up to the tippy-top where Jonas was perched. I told him to calm down, because he was like freaking the hell out. He proceeded to glare at me and, before I knew it, he was sinking his teeth into my hand. After he did that I sort of abandoned the kid. I mean he just bit me, l’m not just going to stick around for another one.
The bite was nothing crazy, caused a blood blister though. Time passed since this occurrence, and days faded into weeks. I got out of school early one day for a dentist appointment. I was under the impression it was just a routine teeth cleaning, but, alas, it was a façade. I was getting my pearly whites ripped from their sockets. Naturally, I bawled like a bitch. Let’s advance to when they grew back. Instead of being normal looking teeth, they grew back sharp. Sharp enough to pierce human skin. Wait, what? When I realized this, the memory of this vampire kid biting my hand flooded back into the legend that is my mind. My pre-teen self could only come up with one possible explanation in that moment: I was a vampire. As I sat there pondering my newfound vampireness, I remembered that they didn’t, you know, exist. A wave of relief washed over me, and my life carried on.
Years passed and seventh grade was rarely ever on my mind, I was a badass in high school now. Jonas had since moved to New Mexico, and, he too, was forgotten. That was until the middle of sophomore year, when he returned from sucking the blood of armadillos, or whatever he did in NM. He sat next to me in my English class, and he seemed to be normal. I thought he had grown out of all his weird delusions. Or so I thought, at least. I proceeded to tell him the story, and how I thought he had turned me into a creature of the night, all that time ago. While I laughed, he stared. He stared into my soul, dude. My soul. I laughed awkwardly a bit longer, then fell into silence. His response came a few agonizing seconds later. Apparently, I was his baby, of sorts. He bombarded me with questions about my ability to heal, my quickness, and, obviously, if had a hankering for blood. Which I answered honestly, but he didn’t believe me one bit.
No, sir, he did not. The next few days he would stare at me. Like not even blinking. Safe to say I was a bit freaked out. Then one day, he gave me a piece of paper. On this piece of paper before my eyes were names. Names of people we went to school with. I inquired about it, and he said those were going to be his victims, or, in other words, meals. And why was I to know of this? He wanted me to help. He was my vamp daddy after all, and he wanted quality time with his son. I felt it was necessary to tell the school officials about it, just in case he actually hurt someone. Not sure what happened next, but Jonas Wild didn’t go to school anymore. Pretty sure it was homeschooling, though. I see him every now and then around my hometown. He’ll usually be with his younger sister, who thought she was a werewolf. Not even kidding! It’s like their parents brainwashed them with Twilight or some other freaky stuff. Anyways, he’ll always look at me, and I look at him. And the spot where he nipped me in the seventh grade starts to throb.
Just kidding, but it does freak me out. Although a total nutcase, he was a pretty interesting dude, who made my life a little more interesting as well. He’s cool for that, no matter how freaky.
