Who Are You?

To sleep, breathe, taste, and so much more gave me the impression that whatever I knew about vampires was false. I had thought the very touch of this cool sheet over my body would be nothing more than a layer of inconsiderable weight. Instead, it was a comfort, cradled close to my bosom, wrapped around my vulnerability, and giving my senses closure as I drifted off to sleep.

Waking up was very difficult. Before this became my home, Mom would have to wait for the alarm clock to finish its duty before ripping the sheets off of me. Of course, I was not a fan of the New Englands chilly Good-Mornings. I'd have to curl up in a ball just to regain a little bit of warmth. That would have been when Mom bombed me with ice cubes. It didn't matter if she got the bed wet. Those sheets were going in the wash, just like I was gonna be hitting the shower.

Mom wasn't here. I’d slept in this bed for so long that my aching back was what woke me. There was no way to tell what time it had been in here. No clock. I hadn’t wasted a whole day in bed. A noisy bird gave me that chirping clue.

Sitting up in bed, I felt something odd brush down my bare shoulders and arms. I blinked the blurry-sleep away to see my long hair. Long hair? I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. This was wrong. More than my mind was being altered here. I know for a fact that I had a dislike for long hair and would chop it off myself if my mom didn't do it for me.

"Andie! Ah..." I stopped yelling for him and went silent when I saw a new item in the room. There was a full-length mirror set up in the corner of the room. I looked at the frame, at first. It was covered with another intricate webbing that I would have to clean off, but had an equally complex wood-carved design of its own beneath the spider-shroud.

Then I looked at my reflection. If I was not sitting in bed, I probably would have been floored at what I saw staring back at me. This was not me. In my mind, I knew this was who I remembered being, but the fact that it felt wrong was a signal that I’d become someone else. This was not who I was.

Slipping out of bed, I hurried to the mirror to see what more of myself was out of place. I couldn't recall what exactly was different. My hair, okay, that was one. The second would definitely be my face and I was certain that changed along with my hair overnight. Otherwise my mom would not have recognized me last night.

I shook my head again and asked, "Who are you?"

My eyes were not that color before. If I remembered, I was paired with someone in class that commented how dull everyone looked because we all had the same eyes. Brown. I had a dark and heavy set of brown eyes before. Not amber. It was like a solid-thin yellow ring around a dense golden flame before this red splotch sunk into those black pits in the center. Maybe these were vampire eyes? No—Mr. Corso's eyes were like mine once were, brown.

Again, I tried to place what else I could tell that was outstanding on my face. Who was me and not. Did my brows lift this high in surprise before? It definitely made my eyes look bigger when I did that. What about my nose? Maybe I had a thicker nose before? I didn’t know. Were those my lips? These cheeks? Jaw? Chin? I grabbed at my face, feeling the supple and the full, its perfection in my hands. This wasn't me!

"It's not me." I was shaking.

I didn't bother to look at the rest of my body. I had a chance at that yesterday and knew something was wrong then. Right now, I was more interested in confronting Mr. Corso with more questions. Many more and very personal ones.

There was a thumping rhythm in my head. I looked at myself one more time in the mirror and saw I was breathing rapid and shallow breaths. Maybe I should calm down first before finding him? No. I didn’t think so. Seeing my chest and shoulders were jumping with my panic, I had every right to freak out about this and he had to see what he’d done to me. Despite what he’d told me last night, not knowing what was done would drive me insane.

Giving the dresser a quick glance over my bare shoulder, I wondered if I should grab something from there again or simply throw on what I wore yesterday. Did it really matter? I wasn’t allowed outside the house and the only judge of my dress was going to be a guy that could change anything, even my features, at will. Casting my gaze down on the cobwebbed floor, I searched for the outfit I’d discarded before hitting the hay. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t there.

Of course, if this mirror was moved in here during the night, it shouldn’t surprise me that my dirty clothes were nabbed. That thought made me scan the room for any other additions that I might have overlooked. Nothing stood out. Not right away, at least. Maybe once my head calmed and cleared, I could investigate again.

I give the mirror a last glare before walking to the dresser.

Just as before, I opened the top drawer to grab a pair of underwear. Laced, high-cut briefs, but red this time. Did I really want to wear red? For some reason, I felt like it was kinda flashy. Dirty, in a way. Putting it back, I grabbed another black pair. Slipping them on, I went for the next drawer.

Again, it felt like it contained something wrong. I know I should be wearing a bra, but it felt off. Was I ashamed of my small size? It didn’t really matter, did it? Maybe I was a bit bigger? That could be why I was stunned yesterday about how slender I’d become. Then again, I was slim to begin with, right?

This drawer was causing me no amount of trouble. I slammed it shut and went for the third drawer. Inside of it were plenty of tops to choose from. Last time was a tank top, but I felt like wearing something to cover my shoulders a little better. Maybe Mr. Corso would be less interested in giving me a bite if it was going to ruin one of the garments he’d paid for?

Would he bite me? He did threaten… No, he’d warned me that was possible if he was in need.

“Let’s see.” I stirred the drawer and fished for a full button-up, black, long-sleeved shirt to slip on. I refrained from buttoning it up right away, in case I didn’t appreciate what kind of pants were available to compliment it. Kneeling down to the next drawer, I took a look at what kind of bottoms were available.

Jeans seemed to be a main theme in here. Maybe he was expecting me to do a lot of work around the house? Well, that narrowed my choices down and I gladly took one of the lighter blue pairs out. Stepping into the legs, I wiggled the pants on up to my hips and snapped them shut before continuing up to button up the shirt.

“Finally.”

I jumped and turned around to the opening door with Mr. Corso leaning inside the door frame. Looking and shaking his head, he had this expression like I had done something wrong.

“You took your sweet time getting dressed. I’m going to regret the day you start putting on--” For a second, he flinched back, blinking, then looked back at me. “Never mind, I’ll just make it so you won’t need it.” His arms crossed, along with his ankle over the other, as he stared at me. “You called me like--” He paused and rolled his eyes up for a second to think about it. “Ten minutes ago? What’d I miss?”

Recovered from his unexpected entry, I told him what he, and especially I, missed here. “What did you do to me? How am I different from what I was? I don’t mean the vampire bullshit.” Uncrossing his arms, he applauded my swearing. “This hair, I never had it long before. My eyes are brown, not whatever this is.” The rest of me I was uncertain about. Maybe my weight? “Did you-- Was I heavier? How much of me is me?” I held out my hands, imploring him to tell me with this open gesture.

“Fuck that shit. I’m not going to start listing all I did or it’ll be dark out by the time I’m done.” That much!?

“Is there any of my old self left?” I did intend that as a question for him to answer, but it was also directed at myself. Laying a hand on my forehead, I looked away from him to think on anything that could be left unaltered. Not my physical appearance, but memories. Those flashbacks on Memory Lane appeared to give me the best insight on what was obscured from my sight. After I’d stood there reminiscing for a few moments, Mr. Corso wasn’t talking, let alone answering me. I looked back at him and waited.

He gave me a shifty-eyed confused look. “What?”

Silent one moment, yelling the next. “I asked you what is left of me that didn’t change! What the fuck is wrong with you!? I can’t tell who the Hell I am anymore!” Those shallow breaths came back. “I’ve got these thoughts, making me feel worse every time I look at something about me that...” I hung my jaw and hesitated to say what I wanted to say, gaping. “It--my body--doesn’t look right. I’m not what I remember, but I can’t even do that! I don’t remember what I looked like.”

Mr. Corso held his hand up, gesturing for me to be calm as he kicked off the door frame to approach me. “Chill out. Look at yourself and just tell me that you don’t like what you see. Whatever you want, I’ll fix it.” I backed away from him.

“I want to be me!” He shook his head and squinted at me in confusion.

“What does that mean exactly?” That hand he had gesturing for me to calm down was now palm up, gesturing for me to explain. He stood maybe a yard from me while I thought about what to tell him.

I shook my head, not really knowing what it meant to be me when I don’t know who I was. “Who I was before--”

“Before you came to this house?” He took another step towards me.

“Yes. I want to know.” Another step.

“You want to know who you were so you can be yourself?” One last step and he placed that hand on my shoulder. I stood stiff, afraid that he was going to pull me against him. He didn’t. That hand only rested on my shoulder while he leaned in to stare directly at me. Face to face. “You’re still you. Just in a different package. It was necessary.”

“That’s not what I mean. I want to know so I can-- I can reflect?” He rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration.

“You are one stubborn bitch. Have I ever told you that?”

“I think so?” I felt him pat my shoulder. When he did that, this time I noticed that I had calmed down. Was that because of where the conversation was going, or had he done something? “Did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Me calming down.”

“I gave you a chill-pill.” Again, he shook his head. This time he did pull me against his chest in a hug. “I’m doing what I think is best for you. Maybe it isn’t the right thing for you, but it’s good for what you’ve become. Believe me, it is a really bad idea to go off your knocker on Day One of Immortality.” I stood still in his hug, not returning it, but not rejecting the affection. “I could’ve Royally fucked up, too. I’m kinda new to this.”

That caught me off-guard. I could have sworn he said that his age was hundreds of years old. “I thought you said you were a French guy from the seventeenth century? Ow!” He smacked me in the back of my head.

“Don’t call me a frog. I’m an Aguy.”

“I know you are a guy.”

“Aguy, as in Guiana et Gasconha?” Okay, he lost me. I shook my head against his shoulder. “What do they teach you kids in school?” He twisted around to hug me from the side, squatting down a bit to face me again and explain. “Just like calling someone a Norman, from Normandy, or Anginiven, from Anjou, I’m an Aguy from Guyenne. Specifically, I’m from Toulouse, Guyenne.”

“But, that’s like saying I’m not American. That I should call myself a Mass-- I don’t know.” I gave him a shrug while lowering my head.

“East Saxon.” I blinked and looked back up at him.

“What?”

“This is the county of Essex. You would be East Saxon.” I shook my head, pretty damn sure he was wrong about that one. “It’s easier than saying your a Massachusettsan.”

“I think I’ll stick with American.” He grew a grin and nodded.

“Good. Do you want to come downstairs?” Now I felt like he was messing with me with that France and Saxon subject to derail me. At the moment, I felt calm and more collected than I had when getting out of bed. I didn’t agree that it was a good idea to drop my problem with who I was and am, but I could put it on hold until after breakfast. Or lunch? “I’ve got dinner on the table.”

“What time is it?” He stood straight back up and guided me to the door with his arm around my shoulders.

“Late. It’ll be sundown in a hour.” I guess I did waste the whole day sleeping in. “Tell you what. Have a bite to eat and then we can pick up on the Hundred Questions. Deal?”

I glanced up at him, realizing he wasn’t attempting to skip out on the whole ‘Me’ topic. Nodding, I accepted the idea. “Thanks.”