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Tamara’s girlfriend died last week.
She is barely there at the funeral. Well, she’s definitely there in body, trembling and shaking, collapsing into a heap into her chair, face in her hands. Tori comes up to her during it, Ell at her side, and it is a testament to her state of mind that Tamara just sobs uselessly into Tori’s shoulder when she asks her how she’s holding up.
She’s staring listlessly with red rimmed eyes when they lower it into the ground. And when it’s time to go she is still staring uselessly at her hands as the family begins to file out of the cemetery.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. That all of them, they all…
They all look like her.
Her twin comes up to her as things are winding down, after everyone has spoken and it’s in the ground and the preacher has let those empty words fall out his bloated lips while his empty eyes stare on ahead. He didn’t know her. He’s going to go home, maybe have one last idle thought about the girl he buried today and then never think of her again.
Her twin comes up to her, and puts a hand on her shoulder, and Tamara notices how pretty he is for the first time. He’s probably always been gorgeous, but man.
He’s got her eyes and her hair and that long neck, slim beauty. She looks into his eyes and it’s so familiar she is starting to hyperventilate again.
“I’m sorry about all this, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” Matt says and Tamara notes how dry his eyes are. Maybe he’s already done all his crying, or maybe it just hasn’t set in, or maybe he just didn’t care about her the way she does.
Tamara doesn’t have anything to say so Matt continues.
“I can’t elaborate much, but it will be okay, it will fine, just wait and see,” the words out his mouth are burning and Tamara hates him for it. She doesn’t want him to tell her petty lies because he can’t stand the fact that she feels sad. The fact is that she looks ugly crying her eyes out. She knows she’s unsightly, a mess, a blemish on this whole affair, sobbing grossly while others can manage to contain themselves enough to just politely dab their eyes and smile bravely.
She looks at him and the way the dying light catches her eyes in his face as the sun dips below the hills that are the backdrop for this whole cemetery. It’s calm, it’s quiet. Beautiful. It’s what she deserves.
She looks at Matt, looks at the way his hair falls the same way hers did, the waves in his ginger stands fold just like hers. She remembers he went missing for a week last year, sick leave or something. That Tom said he came back different.
Tamara doesn’t want to be here, alone with him anymore.
“Thanks Matt, I’ll see you around,” She says in a voice that sounds like a dungeon door creaking closed and she’s turning away to put her back to the face of something that is just a form of living death for her now.
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Day one fades to two to three and on four Tori and Ell arrive to bodily drag her out of her house. They take her on a hike in the woods near her home, just to give her some fresh air. Tamara gets a sunburn. Tamara wants to go home the entire time. So Tamara ditches them around a corner and walks the whole way home to lock her doors and shut her windows and go back to sleep.
Tamara’s brother shows up on day five to give her a bottle of Smirnoff and a hug. She sees him through the peephole and decides to let him in after he just stands there on her step for five minutes, not saying anything. She cracks open the door, and a hand shoves the bottle through, she takes it, and as Tom is turning to leave she cracks it open a little more and shuffles aside a little.
She falls asleep on his shoulder while Tom stares listlessly at the muted TV screen, watching the cool light dance across the living room walls. He leaves the next morning and lingering in the door frame he looks like he has something to tell her.
She waits and he waits and they both stand in somber silence waiting for the other in this odd sort of deadlock. Then he shakes his head a little and says, “Take care of yourself, I’ll be around soon.”
And because they grew up together and Tamara knows him like the back of her hand, she knows there is another volume of things he isn’t telling her, but she doesn’t have the strength to drag it out of him like she did when they were kids.
So she grabs the bottle off the table where it was placed absentmindedly last night, and heads to her room with a purpose. That is forgotten when she remembers how many pictures there are on her phone.
Just. Of her.
Tamara spends hours flipping through them, looking at each one, memorizing every freckle, every lash, every gangly limb and…. She watches her grow up through the album. Her phone is old and the screen is cracked and she flips through the photos watching her grow up from an awkward gawky girl with too long limbs to this charming personable woman with such a presence, such a vibrancy to her, that even the dim, dirty screen can’t help but capture the echoes of something long gone.
She falls asleep holding her phone in front of her face and while she sleeps the battery dies and the phone slips out of her hand to clatter on the floor.
In a better state of mind, Tamara would have probably just plugged in her phone to see if it took the fall alright. Instead, when she wakes up and sees the black screen that doesn’t turn on she panics. Her lifeline is gone and she isn’t ready to swim alone yet, not yet, she can’t.
So on the sixth day she opens her bottle and drowns herself.
By the time day six is ticking on into day seven, a knock comes on Tamara’s door. Then again. The doorbell rings. She doesn’t care because its almost midnight and she is smashed and whoever is coming around at this hour can absolutely fuck off.
Her blood runs cold as she hears the lock sliding out and the door downstairs creak open. No one else had a key, no one but-
Tamara jolts up and she is trying to get to her feet, stumbling and nearly falling over as the ground rushes up to meet her as soon as she tries to push herself away from it. She slams into the ground hard and groans.
A part of her is screaming to get up as she listens to the quiet creak of footsteps up the stairs and she is trying to drag herself out into the hallway to meet this goddamn menace firsthand, to stare it down no matter what. And so she manages to and as she is rolling over to face the direction of the stairs, she manages to get stuck on her back looking up into the face looking down at her.
“Hello Tamara, how’s the weather down there,” that familiar tone giggles.
Tamara just stares. The face comes closer as the body it is attached to bends down and she is being pulled up, all the way up to her feet. She leans back and slouches against the wall and just keeps staring.
“Wow, you really drank a lot huh, no more of that right now okay? We need to talk a little,” she says, and puts forward a hand to brush a few strands out of Tamara’s face. To pull back started when her hand touches the big fat tears that come rolling down Tamara’s cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” she asks softly. Tamara tries to calm herself and just breathe.
“Cause I’m gonna wake up, and you’re not gonna be here anymore,” Tamara manages through her sobs, before completely breaking down at the end. She slides down the wall and she follows her, sinking to her knees.
“Oh, no, no, no. Tammy I’m so sorry, it wasn’t supposed to go this way, the cover was going to be that I was sick with mono. But things happened earlier than expected and someone found me, and the hospital they pronounced me dead, and the records…. It was a mess, a big mess and we were trying to keep this quasi-legal,” Matilda trails off and Tamara looks at her confused beyond her wits. She needs to call Tom tomorrow, maybe ask him to drive her for an evaluation. Run some tests, make sure she is physically okay.
“What?”
“It’s all okay now Tammy, it’s fine, I just, we are dangerous the first week, we can’t be around people,” Matilda says, continuing on like she is making any sort of sense.
“We what, what are you talking about?” Tamara says, she is finding herself needing to get away from Matilda, pushing her off as she slides away from her.
Matilda sighs in that testy little way she always used to when Tamara was slow to pick up the ball. She hooks a finger in her mouth and pulls to reveal a long sharp canine. Far longer than what she ever had before.
Tamara is scooting back away from her faster, and Matilda snaps, “Tamara chill out.”
There’s this jolt of ice down her spine and through every limb and Tamara’s muscles won’t listen to her anymore as she completely stops moving. Matilda looks at her for a moment, face intense, drawn together, and then her expression relaxes a bit and Tamara feels herself loosen.
“I’m sorry, I know, I know we bunged this up really bad, and this is really hard for you, but I need you to just take a breath, okay Tammy? Let’s talk about this, any questions you have, shoot.”
Tamara just gapes at her and Matilda sighs.
“Okay, can we at least get off the floor, maybe we can get you some water and you’ll feel a little better after that?”
Tamara is getting pulled to her feet again and they make it down the stairs, a glass is pushed into her hands and she sips at it while Matilda sits across from her, watching her intently.
“So you didn’t really die?” Tamara asked at long last.
“By legal definitions yes… by our definitions no. Just turned,” Matilda said.
“And you, didn’t think to tell me about any of this? You just thought it would be okay to let me think you died,” Tamara said and she doesn’t mean to sound so upset, but all this sadness, all these emotions are rising to the forefront of her mind and curdling into fury.
“Tamara I couldn’t, my dad nearly skinned Tom alive when Matt told him beforehand-.”
“What, my brother knew?” Tamara screeched. Her hands were claws digging in the table and her shoulders were hunched and tense.
“Tamara please calm down, he only knew because Matt was an idiot and didn’t realize our family acts like the mafia when it comes to keeping our secrets. I am pretty sure they scared your brother within an inch of his life or messed with his head, or something to get him to keep his mouth shut.”
“This is normal to you? You are okay with this!” Tamara yelled and she is rising out of her seat with a clatter.
“Tamara, I know it’s a lot,” Matilda says, rising from her seat as well.
“I thought you died and your whole family was content to let me wait a whole week, do you know what that was like for me? What I thought about,” Tamara’s shoulders are shaking and she feels angry tears come down her face and Matilda is coming in closer to put a hand on her.
“Don’t touch me,” Tamara says, turning away.
“Tammy-.”
“Don’t call me that. When you died we broke up, get out of my house. How did you even get in here, I thought you had to ask permission?”
Matilda sighs heavily, “Tammy do you want me to leave, or do you want to play twenty questions?”
Tamara turns back to look at her, “You’re right, get out.”
“That’s not- Tammy look I am so sorry things went this way, but if I had told you my dad or my uncle might have just killed you right off the bat. I couldn’t do anything you have to understand,” Matilda is coming closer to her and she has her hand on one of her wrists the other on her shoulder…
“What about prayers? Holy water? Crosses? Silver?” Matilda’s expression shifts at the last one, darkening, her eyes getting a little harder and a little more menacing.
“Silver huh?” Tamara smirks and she is reaching up her free hand to unclasp her earing, this little silver hoop and suddenly Matilda’s hand is on her wrist, crushingly tight and Tamara is dropping the hoop, it bounces on the ground as Matilda huddles in closer, her other hand yanking Tamara’s ponytail to the side so her neck is bared.
Tamara feels a pinch and then if she was feeling woozy before this is way, way more intense. She slumps in Matilda’s arms.
“Y-you… you… bit… me,” Tamara mumbles and she is trying to be angry but her legs aren’t working anymore.
“Oh my god, Tammy I am so sorry, oh god Matt was right, I can’t do this alone, I should have let him and your brother come, they are so much better at this, I am so stupid, stupid, stupid,” Matilda is muttering frantically to herself as Tamara feels light and giggly.
“Hey Matty, does period blood smell good to you?” Tamara asks, punctuating with another giggle.
“Does- EW TAMMY. No! Not okay, gross,” Matilda shouts, dragging Tamara towards the couch. She is dead weight and absolutely no help now that Matilda has effectively rendered her incoherent for the night. She sighs and flips open her phone. One unread message, three missed calls.
“How did it go?” Matt’s message reads.
“Not well, come over tomorrow, bring Tom,” Matilda texts back.
She watches Tamara doze for a bit before nodding off a bit herself.
Matilda walks up to feel something roll off her and hit the ground. When she sits up, she notices several cloves of garlic on her, and then notices something granular under her feet when she goes to stand up. She looks down. Salt.
Tamara enters the living room with a book Matilda can only guess is the bible and a cup of water.
“Let me guess, you’re wondering if praying over that will make it holy water, or if me touching that will burn?” Matilda asks, folding her arms across her chest. “No and no.”
Tamara sets them on the table about to speak when the doorbell rings.
“Who is that?” she asks.
Matilda just opens the door and Tom stumbles in, gives her a nasty look before rushing over to Tamara. “Hey are you okay? Matt said things didn’t go so – What the fuck, you bit her?” Tamara’s hand is flying up her neck as a flood of memories come rushing back. Her cheeks start to prickle as she feels her hands balling up.
“Alright, alright, both of you calm down,” Matt says, coming over to plant a kiss on Tom’s cheek and then turning back to his sister, “You should have never have bit her.”
“She was going to stab me with her silver earing,” Matilda said defensively.
“Okay, Tamara, I hope you know stabbing people is wrong.”
“I hope you know faking your death is actually illegal,” Tamara snapped back.
“Is it faking if you’re heart actually stops beating?” Matt says, quirking an eyebrow. Tamara deflates a little. “But more importantly, silver is not a joke with us, it basically necrotizes the skin and those kind of injuries take months to heal and can even scar. Most vampires would kill you for trying to do that,” Matt says and he the way he is looking down at Tamara has her squirming away from him, huddling behind her brother.
“Matt, knock it off, she was a mess all last week, I know you saw her at the funeral,” Tom snaps as he glares at his boyfriend.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you Tammy, I just bit you to get you to calm down a little,” Matilda said timidly.
“Well, it worked,” Tamara said with a huff. She looked down at the couch. “I’m sorry about the silver thing, I didn’t know. I would never hurt you like that, I was just angry and afraid.”
“It’s alright, I understand, just please, maybe start wearing different earrings from now on, if you still….” Matilda trailed off, looking at Tamara nervously, nervous about what? Then it clicked.
“I, I didn’t mean it. About the breaking up when you died,” Tamara says softly.
“Hey, don’t let her push you into anything Tamara, I love Matt but this shit is a piece of work and you don’t owe anyone anything,” Tom said, gripping her shoulders. “I took a really long break after… some stuff with Matt.”
“You knew and you didn’t tell me either Tom,” Tamara said.
Guilt consumed Tom as the color drained from his face, “Listen Tamara, I wanted to, I was so close to telling you, but- it’s just…. You don’t know what their family is like.”
Tamara looked at Matilda and Matt to see that Matilda was looking at her worriedly and that Matt was looking off to the side, genuinely upset. He swallows dryly and he is staring at Tom, not at his face, at his side oddly, and Tamara follows his eyes to see that Tom’s hand is rubbing that area.
She looks at Matt and any previous fear she felt toward him is gone as she resolves to bring up the issue with him when they are alone. For now, Tamara looks at her twin and nods.
“Okay, it’s okay, I understand,” she says smiling at the three of them. Three sets of faces look relieved in unison. Tamara drops her tone to a low pitch.
“But if either of you ever bite me or Tom without permission again, I’ll find a way to pay back the dues double.”
Matt looks like he is ready to retort but whatever comment he had is derailed as Matilda rushes forward enveloping Tamara in the first real hug they have had since before she died, “Oh Tammy I missed you so much.”
She thinks she hears a muttered, “Why am I not surprised she’s your sister” but opts not to kick up a fuss about it. Instead she wraps her arms around Matilda and hugs her tight. So tight she never wants to let go.