Page 7 of Dear Mr. Vampire
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
“Go over there and get it.” She goaded.
“It could be a trap.”
“Ah, I don’t think so.”
“You grab it.” I ordered, knowing that wouldn’t work with her.
“You grab it. He’s your secret vampire.”
I laughed on the inside because he wasn’t anybody’s vampire. He was just some freakishly handsome White man that lived alone in my apartment complex. I’m sure he had a good reason why he was living in the basement. Maybe there weren’t any other apartments available when he moved in. Maybe he didn’t have his name on the community mailboxes because he had a P.O. Box at the local post office.
I mustered up all the courage I had in my throbbing heart. “Okay, I’m going to grab it. Come with me.”
“Gurl.” Morgan smacked her lips, and I knew that meant hell no. “I went yesterday. It’s your turn.”
She was right. It was my turn. I held my little clutch purse close to my side as I tiptoed the few steps it took to be at my neighbor’s front door. I was stealth as I could be in six-inch designer heels. I snatched the note off the door and was glad it came off easily. I sprinted back to Morgan, and we jetted up the stairs to the ground level.
I held the paper close to my chest as we both ran out the back door to the parking lot. Morgan was quick to unlock the car doors, and we both jumped into her plush, cold leather seats.
As soon as she locked the door, we both erupted in a barrage of giggles. I missed our stupid antics. It felt so good to be myself. I didn’t have to code switch. Being with Morgan almost made me forget about the danger I was in and why I fled Minnesota.
“Read it! Read it!” She chanted.
“Drive the car away from the building.” I groaned.
I waited until we were out of my parking lot before I peeled the lone piece of tape off the note. I unfolded it and used the flashlight on my cell phone to read the note.
“What does it say?”
Excitement filled my heart when I shined the cell flashlight on the words written in black ink.
“Coco!” Morgan blurted my name as she turned the corner. She knew where she was going because she never went anywhere without an exact address she could map out beforehand.
“I’m going to read it.” I grinned as I skimmed the note. “Oh shit, it’s just a pizza menu.”
Morgan removed her eyes from the road to buck them out at me. “Coco, don’t play with me.”
“Okay, okay.” I fixed my face and started to read the note out loud.
Dear person polite enough to call me Mr. but rude enough to judge me without knowing me. (That’s you.)
“He put that’s me, in parentheses.” I said.
“Oh, he extra.” Morgan smacked her lips.
I don’t know what you think you know, but you shouldn’t go around accusing people of being vampires. It’s terribly impolite.
“Oh, he think he funny.” Morgan added.
Stalking is rude also. Clearly, you have been watching me from afar.
“Damn, he called you a stalker.” Morgan joked.
I refuse to admit to being undead. I’m not sure why people are always so hung up on labels. I don’t know who you are. But you have piqued my curiosity.
I think of myself as very observant. Nonetheless, I am clueless. You write like a human female. So that’s all I can gather from your accusatory note. We should meet so you can air your grievances in person.
