Admitting these feelings have been present since a young age was a step toward healing. Charlotte slept for days after they met with Oliver. She failed to complete the initial tasks of getting up and dressed. It sounded simple, something done by millions of people. The weight of existence held Charlotte down. Pain flickered through her body. It was not a physical pain but one that resided in her mind and radiated through her body. It was as though Charlotte had fallen from a great height and shattered into a thousand pieces. She was a vampiric jigsaw puzzle with missing or damaged parts.
Caleb refused to let her wallow in the shadows. If Charlotte wanted to change her life, they would do it together as a family. That meant she needed to have breakfast. She came downstairs to see Cornelius had laid the table. There was a smell of bacon, smoky, meaty and mouth-watering. It sizzled, popped and cracked as the thin slither hit the pan. The fat rendered down to give a crisp edge to the tender flesh. Charlotte knew eggs broken into the same pan were being scrambled into bacon fat heaven. Caleb would serve hot buttery toast. White day-old sourdough was her favourite. He would slide it under the grill until golden. Once flipped and it achieved the perfect colour, he would spread butter, thick and salty. Charlotte could hear the crunch as she took a bite. The butter would dribble from the corner of her mouth as the bread and butter melded into one. It had to count as one of her blessings. Her stomach tolerated food. The remaining human part of her disliked the extra side order of blood, it seemed to ruin the illusion.
Cornelius patted the chair next to him, opposite the squabbling twins. Caleb placed the food on the table, serving the twins whilst Cornelius served his mum. Their son had overheard the conversations Charlotte had with Oliver. He knew it was wrong to use his sneak ability. Cornelius concerned the Ministry of Magic. His gift was common in vampires who stole blood from humans as they slept. Unlike those who could hypnotise or seduce, where the human could still refuse. The humans would sleep through the process, unaware of the attack. They would wake groggy, weakened, with flu symptoms and a brass band headache. Marks were small and close together as their fangs replaced the central incisors. These vampires needed no invitation to cross a threshold since they were a part of the shadows. They were sensitive to light, preferring the safety and comfort of a coffin. Cornelius would soon face the council of elders to discuss his immortality. If he were to master his powers, Cornelius would transform into mist. This form made him a formidable foe, one they would ‘cure’, preventing his transition.
Cornelius lived in the dark about the plans to strip him of his immortality. He wanted to help, making a promise he would study hard. He could entertain the twins and do the dishes. Charlotte seemed to lose her appetite, guilty at her son’s caring attitude. She had neglected Cornelius and rejected his presence from the beginning. Yet, he sat with her, stuffing himself with bacon dipped in maple plasma sauce. The twins were giggling as he made funny faces. Pretending the food was rubbery. He tore chunks of bread with his teeth. The sweet taste had him widening his eyes, a goofy, chewy expression. A metallic aftertaste followed. Cornelius squinted his eyes. The nose and mouth screwed up as he kept chewing longer than necessary.
The twins seemed to have forgotten the outburst of anger she directed at them. Aurora wanted down from her chair, keen to show her mother the dolls. Judy was her favourite, a superhero who could fly and make rainbows. Autumn demanded Charlotte help her slide. It was big and scary. A mummy could give her courage to brave the fast speed. Charlotte was tired just thinking of what her children needed. Caleb squeezed her hand, reminding her to eat and keep her strength up. Cornelius pinched a slither of bacon from her plate. Charlotte caught him as he stuffed it in whole. The juice trickled down as he struggled to keep his mouth closed. A cheekiness, a little twinkle in his eye, made her smile. She picked up the remaining rasher, considered it and copied her son. Caleb stepped back, surprised, as she wrestled her tongue around the chewy texture. Laughter ensued as sticky fingers tickled and flicked scrambled eggs across the table.
“Baby steps”, she thought. “Baby steps”.
Caleb and Charlotte: https://www.patreon.com/posts/56517873
By the Grace of Sim Gods 