Diary of a Neurotic Vampire by Meghan Sullivan

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SUMMARY: "Not all vampires are cool..." A fun little short story I just wrote up today for no real reason. Enjoy!

Pancakes again. Great. I slide into the chestnut breakfast chair with a sigh. How many vampires eat pancakes, I wonder. Probably just me. Oh well, I think. So be it. "Annie, what are you makin' faces for? That fork is perfectly clean. Eat!" My mom's hair is up in a beehive again and her blue eye-shadow is too heavy, as usual. Someone should tell her the sixties are over. Of course, leave it to Vouge to proclaim this crap back in style. It just reinforces her belief she's cool. I dump a load of syrup on my stack of flapjacks and cut a huge slice, bringing it up to my mouth. The syrup slowly drips down, suspended in the air beneath my fork like snot. I wish I could come up with a more appetizing image. Not that it stops me from eating. That's probably why I'm so overweight. How many vampires are overweight, pimple-ridden teenage geeks with OCD? Probably just me.
"Annie, did you take your medication today?" I chew my pancake, not deigning to reply. My mother is a nightmare, I swear. My real name is Anthony, but apparently my mom always wanted a girl because she calls me Annie. In private AND in public. This doesn't really help my reputation at school, but the one time I yelled at her to quit calling me that she scolded me for all the world to see. "Can't a mother show affection towards her son?" she demanded in the supermarket one summer afternoon. "Ma!" I hissed at her, looking around. Oh great, there was my crush Lisa. "What, girls like a boy who is respectful to their mother." I was sure people five miles away could hear her. I knew Lisa could because she and her best friend Rachel fell into fits of snickering. "Ma, stop it you're humiliating me in front of my crush!" "OHHHH, I get it!" She grinned, turning to look RIGHT at Lisa, then turning back and giving me an over-dramatic wink. I suddenly wished I could change into a bat and fly the hell out of there. But vampires can't really do that. At least I can't. That's not the end of my social woes.
I admit it: I'm a Star Wars freak. So when Anakin's mother from the first Star Wars called her kid "Annie" I thought I had found someone to join my own personal therapy group. Even Darth Vader knew the pain of an embarassing mother. I was so overwrought with emotion I considered writing George Lucas and thanking him. The rest of the world, however, thought this was hilarious, and the fact the kid in the movie couldn't act fueled the fire. When my mom called me "Annie" in front of a group of kids at my school I was "Star Dork" for over three months. By the end of that semester I was thinking of going to Lucas' ranch and throwing molotov cocktails at the gates. Or maybe I could go suck his blood. I AM a vampire.
Unlike the characters in Anne Rice's series, or the original Dracula, I'm not super dark and cool.I tried to be my Freshmen year by buying a goth outfit and dying my hair black. That lasted about 0.5 days in my mother's house. She took one look at me and shrieked. "You do not need to dress like a deliquent to be cool!" She announced, marching me into the bathroom to wash out the dye in my hair.

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