I used to file his teeth into fangs, and buy him jars of blood from the shack shop by the river. I knew my blood was clean, and that the stuff I brought him probably wasn't, but when his family comes, Shaun is going to pretend they were together, they're democrats, they'll prefer that to the truth. Most people block out the existence of lifestyles they consider mythical, when the truth is, it's thriving under their stuck up noses. Animal found me in an alley just after he left home, he was 17, and I was 13, but that never mattered. What mattered was my mother was dead and no one knew I existed anymore. He introduced himself to me as Monster, but I saw through his ruse. He looked too kindly into my eyes, he loved me. He knew I was just a hungry kid. My mom was a fugitive and an alien to this country, and I was imaginary, I'd never been to school, never gone to the grocery store or a doctor and I'd certainly never eaten a hamburger, he fed me, clothed me and took me to a motel. Eventually he'd gotten an apartment, and gotten me an identity, but not before I'd grown tired of watching him file his teeth, of following him around at parties, looking for someone like him. I gave in, started filing them for him, finding people like him while he slept until he got sick of their company, even the best of them weren't good enough for him, he only wanted the blood, one day he stopped speaking. 

He communicated with snips and growls, no more until he got what he wanted. But it was never enough, he still wanted his teeth sharp enough to cut his own lips and tongue, and be refused my blood every time I tried to give it to him, no matter how careful I was. He always knew when it was me. He was so angry when I started boiling the blood, it changed the flavor, I knew, but it was safer for him, my Monster, my Animal. He was what I knew; I had to do something to save him. Two years he was silent, never more than a growl came my way when I'd make him eat his beans and rice, when I'd give him his blood. I knew he'd been leaving and getting his own when he actually said he'd had enough of me mothering him. He couldn't drink the cleaned blood, and he said he'd had some real bad drink that day. I knew what he meant, he meant he met someone dirty. He was scared. He was 17 again and realizing what he'd done wrong. "No, no," I'd said, "it can't hurt you without an open wound" and he flashed me a crooked smile with the glint of his filed fangs. My fault. I let him keep them that way. Oh how they used to bleed, everything I knew about him was flashing through my mind; he was going to die. I was just barely turning 18, he had taught me everything I knew, him and Shaun, and he was going to die. I spent four years of my life boiling blood because I loved him, and he was dying anyway. He was never scared; he believed unto his deathbed that he'd live forever. Right now, there's a thick layer of plastic between us, he's bleeding to death and I can't take it. Shaun's plan is to say they were lovers, to get the doctor to explain that some people are immune, and Shaun will say that their son had been acting strange and kept him from becoming infected, they would accept it, waiting years to ask questions. I couldn't even accept the truth when it was presented to me months ago. He picked me that day because he was lonely and he knew I would do what had to be done, and I did everything for him for five years. That was it. Five years. A long full life to me was 22 years at that point. Animal was my brother and my father and my keeper. I took care of him just as he did me, but I never expected him to die. Vampires were immortal, now they were infections and rogue cells eating his body alive. Shaun had been around for two years, he was my age and he loved me while I was devoted to Animal. He's sitting next to me, he knew

Animal was the only thing I really had anymore, of the girl I was in that alley. Shaun was going to save me; I could see it in his eyes. He wanted me to leave, didn't want to see my heart break when Animal was covered in a bed sheet, I didn't know what to do, I wanted to lay with him, one last time while he drifted to sleep, but the doctors said it was a bad idea. The baby, got to do what's best for the baby. Animal is dying, but another grows inside me. Shaun knows. I know. Animal has no idea. I have to tell him, damn it; he's slipping away.

I lay with him while he died his bleeding body next to my pristine skin, I took his hand and put it to my stomach, "you" I said, "you", and he died, with that stupid smile on his face. A nurse came running, scared for my baby, for me, and I let her take me away, I let her change my clothes, and clean me off while Animals family arrived. They're here now, she's crying, he wants to hit something, and I have to say something. I said how he saved my life, how he took care of me, they knew we lied to them, but they didn't mind. He nodded as if to say "whatever you're covering must be awful" and I fell to the floor. Four months pregnant, I was having another flashback. The day he said he'd flashed me that smile, that bleeding smile, that scared smile; there was a pregnancy test in my pocket. It was the day after my first date with Shaun. The disease took him swiftly because we stopped trying to save him. He eagerly drank everything I put in front of him, I never tried giving him mine, I'd given up in every way I could have, he would have licked dogs blood from the floor if I'd told him it was all he was getting. I was killing him, and he was panicking, struggling, grasping for the immortality his plan had promised him. I became cruel to cope but it failed. Up until he really started dying, I didn't want the thing growing inside me, but once I knew I had no choice. As far as I'd come, there was no going back. Not without losing too much of myself. It was hard enough to look in my mirror; I had age written in my face from fighting so hard. "Mommy needs you now," I whispered to myself almost expecting an answer, "Mommy is going to love you no matter what, little Ryan, little creature" I'll never forget how sick I was that morning, I felt like I was turning inside out, my insides were re-arranging, I was cuddling my stomach as if I could save the poor thing from myself, and then Animal's confession came and I thought I was going to throw up rocks, it felt like something was trying to escape, and I knew I had to keep it. Now I can practically hold a conversation with her. My little girl named Ryan. She was draining all I had, but I loved her. Annie the animal child. Calling her Ryan was so, reminiscent of watching him die. It was like losing my mother again. She was going to be so evil, I knew, but I would love her for it.