The early days

It was so difficult at first. I was thirsty all the time, so much so that it hurt. My throat burned until I drank blood.
“You must come to my surgery, every morning, early,” said Talbot. “And every evening, after hours.”
The sachets of human blood he gave helped. I gulped down three or four every morning and every evening. It stopped the burn until about two hours before the next feed. Then it was absolute torture.
“You must keep away from people when you get the burn,” said Talbot. “If you get desperate, you can try an animal. Nobody’s pet, mind. And bury the evidence of anything you kill.”
The burn started early one day after school. I was sitting next to Melissa on the bus. I could smell her flesh. All I could do was stare at the whiteness of her neck and imagine my fangs sinking into it and the blood spurting out. And I imagined it gliding down my throat and the burn subsiding.
“Don’t look at people with hungry eyes,” Talbot said. “For then your eyes will give away what you are.”
I remembered his words just in time. Melissa turned to me. “Jesus, you’re scaring me Fyonah,” she said. “The way you’re looking at me.”
The mention of the so-called son of God was enough to make me shudder and to make the burn disappear. But that only lasted seconds and then the ache in my throat was back.
I focussed on the bag she had on her lap. It was full of books and I thought of the homework we’d been given and how I’d have all night to do it once I’d been to Talbot. I wish I could have checked my eyes to see whether they were still glowing. Impossible of course. We have no reflections.
“You’ll have to fool people that you’re eating,” said Talbot. “And you’ll have to be quiet at night. Keep away from mirrors.”
I learnt to manage that. I became skilled at stuffing my mouth with food and emptying it later. I learnt to creep about softer than a kitten. And gradually I got used to my new strength.
“Touch everything as if it is made of egg-shells and be as gentle with people as if they were babies,” he said.
I learnt it all, gradually. There was just one thing: I could not get used to the intense feelings I now had for Talbot. I wanted him to touch me again, that way. I wanted to feel again the excitement of his frenzied feeding, only have the excitement be for something else. I wanted him to need me.
But he remained forever the caring family doctor.