I. 1985
YEAR: 1985
M I R A: 17 years old
One assumption of our times is that if love is true, then it must be forever.
We, as humans, love love itself and naturally equate genuine relationships with infinity, or at least for our finite loves, till death do us part.
And therefore, it seems impossible for us to accept the ending of a love story. Love should be limitless, and anything short of death is a failure.
Who’s fault is it?
Probably our own.
But, nonetheless, we move forward and seek out another love story once more.
And if you aren’t - you’re already in a love story.
I’m a sucker for romance.
I’m not talking about my love life, because clearly I have none.
But, the love lives of others.
I listened intently as my friend, Asena, complained about her family. Asena, unlike me, is the main character of this story.
I mean, her name itself yells: I’m the main character!
Asena Jupiter.
And like any other heroine, she has her struggles. Such as her verbally abusive stepmother and sister. Asena’s mother passed when she gave birth to her. Add on a blind neglectful father who’s still mourning over his dead wife, and bam a tragic background. What a perfect foundation for the start of a story.
Unlike Asena who struggles in poverty, I came from a middle-class family with caring parents and an annoying older brother.
Do I sound a bit...weird?
That is because I am!
My therapist says I’m diagnosed with psychotic depression and struggle with empathy more than the typical person.
“Have your Dad responded to your letter?” I asked.
But, over the years, I’ve learned how to cover up the fact that I don’t really give a shit. Because not giving a shit, means no friends.
“Yeah. Have he?” Gwen asked.
The stuff I said earlier is completely untrue. I’m not diagnosed with anything nor do I have a therapist. Actually, no, I self-diagnose to have low empathy and inappropriate usage of dark humor.
Gwen Imogen is like me, a side character. However, unlike me, Gwen has alot more empathy towards others. You can say, we balanced each other out.
Gwen and I met in third grade when I kicked a boy’s balls for pulling my hair. Gwen stood up for me when the teacher yelled at me.
Turns out the boy I kicked had a thing for me, but who wouldn’t?
I was an adorable child.
Can’t say the same about teenage me.
In ninth grade, we met Asena who was bullied by the popular kids - which, as fuck up as it sounds, is led by her step-sister.
If I were Asena, I’d set the house on fire with her stepmother and step-sister inside. But hey, different folks, different strokes.
Asena shakes her head, “No. He’s still in Parsi.”
Asena’s phone rings, “Shit. I’m late.” She grabbed her backpack and skateboard, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”
Gwen and I watch as she skates home.
“Should we get going too?” Gwen asked.
“I guess,” I responded.
We gathered our stuff. It’s the last week of Senior year, and well, I don’t really give a fuck. I already got accepted into my not-much-of-a-dream-but-will-do college, and unlike other students, my college funds cover it all. My future is basically secure.
“You think she’ll be okay?” Gwen asked.
“I mean, what is her step-mom going to do?” I asked. “Yell at her more?”
Gwen exhaled, “I’m just worried, you know? I mean, Asena doesn’t seem very happy today.”
And I don’t blame her.
Asena got a letter of rejection from her dream school.
We unchained our bikes. “See you tomorrow?” Gwen asked.
I hop onto the bike, “Yup.”
We rode down the empty school parking, and once we reached the street, we went our separate ways.
“Bye Mira!”
Mira Liu, that’s my name. It doesn’t sound much like a main character name, does it? Well, I blame my parents. My mom named me Mira, which means, wonderful.
And I’ve been anything, but wonderful for the past 17 years.
Liu, well can’t blame Dad much for that. It’s not like he chose his last name.
I plugged in my headphones and down the streets I go. I don’t need to look around to know there’s an old man watering his fruit plants to my right and children playing to my left. Everything in the neighborhood remains the same, and the only thing that changes is the season...and cars.
Sometimes people park their cars in different areas.
I huffed a deep breath and slid the bike from left to right on the streets.
Another boring day.
When I arrived home, I parked the bike on the side of the fence and took off my helmet. With the helmet latched on the bike, I grabbed the backpack and made my way into the house.
The keys are now on the key rack. I grabbed the mail on the table, and even knowing none of them belonged to me, I went through them anyway.
I don’t need to look around the house to know what my family is doing.
Dad is on the couch with Steven, my older brother, watching football together with a beer in their hands. I’m not talking about football with your hands, but the ones with your feet.
Mom is in the kitchen, on the phone, with her friends. Somehow, she can follow five different conversations while making five different dishes.
And here I am, going upstairs to my room. Once I got inside, I threw my backpack into the corner and dropped onto the bed. With my headphones back on my ears, I resumed the playlist and closed my eyes. It’s sad, but I find this the highlight of my day. Socializing with people at school really drains me.
After two hours or at least I think it’s two hours, I went downstairs for dinner.
“Had a good nap?” Steven asked.
I wipe the drool from my cheek, “I think so. Um- are we still having dinner?”
Mom walks into the room with her robe, “You’re up?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Dinner was five hours ago,” Steven says.
I look at the clock - 11:47 p.m.
“I made you a plate in the fridge,” Mom says.
“Okay.” I yawned, “Where did Dad go?”
Steven pulled on his socks, “He went to work.”
“Night shift?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I place a cover on the leftover, “You got a night shift too?”
“Yup.” He knocked a bottle on my head gently, “Don’t stay up too late.”
“You too.”
He turned back and squinted his eyes in confusion, but chose not to respond to my questionable statement.
Dad and Steven are doctors.
Well, Dad is a doctor. Steven is going through residency.
I come from a very stereotypical family.
“I’m heading off to bed,” Mom says. “Don’t stay up too late.”
I place the food into the microwave, “Good night.”
When it dings, out it goes and into my stomach. I grabbed the remote and switched on the television. With the light dimmed low, I ate the warm food and drank the cool water.
“1985 is the year,” the news anchor says, “President Nelo Polazin and King Dimitri Acheron are scheduled to sign the long-overdue Humans and Immortals peace treaty at-”
As silly as it may sound, we have Immortals in this world.
Immortals, in short explanation, are Gods in a human body. They look young, live for a very long time, and have superpowers.
No, they do not enslave us.
They were simply in hiding until about 30 years ago when one crazy Immortal attacked someone in broad daylight. They tried to cover it up - surprise, the Immortals infiltrated the government - but somehow, the news spread like wildfires.
Now, everyone knows Immortals exist.
From what I heard, from my parents, they said everyone went after. Dad was homeschooled for the rest of the school year because of it. Eventually, things died down and everyone went back to their lives.
Except for the protestors.
They won’t shut up.
When I heard a noise coming from my backyard, I placed down the fork. My eyes squint and I look around the dark field. I reach for the light switch. “Nope.” First, I closed all the blinds and curtains then turned on the lights.
With the eerie feeling behind me, I continued watching TV and ate my leftovers.
Little did I know, my logical decision saved me that night.
With a full stomach, I cleaned the dishes and turned off the TV. Now, off to bed, I go.
1:56 am.
I’m going to regret what I did tonight. I got under the covers and switched on the night lamp. With the book beside me, I read each word slowly and hopefully, it’ll put me to sleep.
When I heard a crash, I stopped reading.
2:45 am.
Slowly, I placed the book on the nightstand and got off of bed. I grabbed the pepper spray beside my bed and made my way to the curtained window. With my back pressed against the wall, I pull the curtain and look outside.
There was nothing except a fallen trashcan.
My eyes went to the trees - no wind.
I don’t have a good feeling about tonight, and my senses are always 36% correct.
When I heard a noise from below, my eyes widened. Cautiously, I tilted my body and looked down. My mouth gaped when I saw a shadow that looked like a human.
Quickly, I rushed to the phone and called 911.
“Hello, 911. How may I help-”
“Hi. My name is Mira Liu. I live in-” I gave them all the information needed to come and do a check-up because there’s no way in hell I’m going out of my safe house to check up whatever the fuck it is outside.
I peek out the window and notice the shadow is still there.
“Please come quickly,” I whispered.
Red eyes.
Immediately, I ducked.
Did whatever it is, see me?
“One of our officers will be there in a few minutes.”
“Okay.” I inhaled a shaky breath, “I think I made eye contact with it. I’m going to go find my mom. Please stay on the line.”
Before the man could respond, I ran dramatically fast to my parent’s room. When I passed the stairs, my eyes were wide at how dark it was. I practically kicked my parent’s door open.
“Mira?” Mom said half-asleep, “Why-”
I grab Mom’s arm, “There’s something in the yard!”
“What?”
The sound of siren blasts through the air. With half-asleep and probably the other half pissed off, Mom in front of me, we walked downstairs to greet the officers.
The officers followed me to the backyard. Mom switched on the light, “Where did you see this thing?” The officer asked.
I pointed to the bushes, “There.”
They switched on their lights and made their way to the bushes.
“Nothing back here ma’am.”
“What?” I pushed Mom out of the way and walked to the bushes. He’s right, there’s nothing and I wasted taxpayer money because of my delusions.
Mom apologized to the police officers and neighbors a million times. When we got into the house and the front door closed, she told me to go to sleep. Now, all the lights are off again.
I walked to my bedroom, “Maybe, I do need-”
Oh, man.
There’s a blood-covered man on my bed.
My mouth open, but before I knew it, he was in front of me with his cold hand over my mouth. “Don’t scream.”
I complied.
He didn’t remove his hand, “You’re quite a character,” he says. “Aren’t you going to help someone who’s hurt?”
What the fuck is this man on?
I wouldn’t even help someone I know who’s hurt, especially in the middle of the night.
“First aid?”
This isn’t a hospital.
I point outside my room.
“Show me.”
The man turned my body and still with his man over my mouth, he followed me to the cabinet.
“Open it.”
I opened the cabinet and grabbed the first aid kit.
“Let’s go.”
I closed the cabinet and walked back to my bedroom. When we went in, he closed the door. With his lips beside my ear, he whispered: “If you make a single noise, I’ll rip your heart out of your chest. Understand?”
I nod.
He lets me go.
When I didn’t scream, he grabbed the first aid kit from my shaky hand. With a terrified look, I cornered myself on the other side of the room while the man treated himself on the floor. I spot the pepper stray at the desk. Quickly, I grab it and point it at him.
The man looks at me and chuckles softly. It’s crazy, but I think his smile is sort of cute.
Now that the initial fear is over - just kidding, it’s still there - I was given the opportunity to really look at the man.
The moonlight screens through the curtains, and my breathing comes to a halt.
Holy shit, he’s handsome.
The man has the kind of face that makes you stop and forget your destination. His grey eyes strike towards me and his lips tilted upward slightly. I guess he’s used to people looking at him like that - the sudden pause in their course. And then, he gives you that nonchalant gaze and soft smile - or whatever it is on his face.
I feel hot.
Without looking in the mirror, I know the color red is on my cheeks - maybe from his extremely attractive physical looks or I’m scared as shit.
“Can you turn away?” he asked.
And let you kill me?
No, thank you.
“Your stares are making me feel uncomfortable.”
“You broke into my house,” I responded. “And you are the one feeling uncomfortable?”
He chuckles softly, “Fair enough.” The man grunted softly as he pulled up his shirt. He pulled out a small knife. My eyes widened as he grabbed the needle and thread, and then he closed his wound with it.
What the fuck.
While he attempted to wrap the elastic bandage wrap around his rock-hard blood-filled waist, I covered my mouth to prevent myself from throwing up.
4:58 am.
I am so screwed.
With the pace he’s going, it’s going to take him weeks to finish the treatment. How badly is he hurt?
“Oh my God,” I mumbled under my breath, “Can you go faster?”
He looked up at me with an are you kidding me look.
“My mom is going to wake up soon,” I said. I’m clearly in a terrible mood from standing in the corner and afraid for my life.
“Talk anymore and I’ll tear your tongue out,” he says.
Immediately, I curled my lips into my mouth. I’d like to keep my tongue where it is.
5:09 am.
“If I go over there and help you treat your wound,” I said. “Can you please leave the house and promise to never return?”
The man stared at me, but he didn’t respond.
One step after another, I made my way towards him. Finally, when I’m in front of him, I stop with the pepper spray right in front of his handsome tanned face.
He scoffed, “You know, pepper spray doesn’t do anything.”
“We can test that theory.”
He tilted his head to the other side and raised an eyebrow. I’m pretty sure what he said is true, but I’m not putting my only form of protection down. Steadily, I placed the pepper spray inside my tank top and grabbed the wrap from his rough hands. One circle after another, I wrapped the bandage around his waist. Next, I treated his arm and he took it like a champion.
If someone were to stab me or slash me with a knife multiple times, I’d scream like a little bitch during treatment.
After I finish, I pack away the items or at least the ones not covered in blood.
“Alright. You’re good. Now, can you please-” When I looked up, I realized the predicament position I was in. I was in between his legs. My eyes went everywhere else, except the man in front of me. “You’re good. You’re good,” I said. “Just take some painkiller later, or whatever you Immortals take and you’re good.”
My eyes betrayed me.
When I looked at him, he had a peculiar look on his face.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.
“Would you like to know-”
My sweats returned, “I don’t want to know.”
5:48 am.
He smiles, “Thank you.”
Oh, so he does have manners.
“How about a gift?” he asked. “What would you like?”
My brows furrow together, and I tilt my head, “What?”
“As my way of thanks.”
I muffled a laugh before I grabbed the first aid and placed it on the desk. The injured man on my bed is asking me what I’d like. I exhaled, “I’d like for you to leave,” I responded. “That’s all.”
He got up and the bed creaked lightly. One step after another, he made his way towards me. The man placed an arm on each side, preventing me from escaping. My eyes betrayed me again, and I swallowed when his hard pecs waved around my face, “Is that truly all you want?”
No, he’s a creep.
You don’t get the hots toward creeps.
I can hear the beating inside my ears, and I close my eyes to calm myself but it doesn’t work. His breath scattered across my face. When I opened my eyes, I spotted his grey ones. My sight dropped to his pale lips. The luscious lips became a smile.
“Would you like a kiss?” he asked.
My mouth gaped open, but nothing came out.
What did he say?
The man grabbed my chin and he lowered himself. My fingers curled into the desk as his lips touched mine. It was soft at first, but then it became rougher. I didn’t move, rather stood there as still as a rock. The only thing that’s telling me I’m still alive and human is the harsh beating inside my chest.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
When he moved back, a shaky breath left his lips. “If you don’t like it,” he says, “Just move away.”
To where?
There’s a desk behind me!
He leaned down for another kiss. This time, it was much wetter. His tongue found its way into my mouth and soon, I found myself on my toes.
Do I actually like this?
Oh, fuck this.
I place a hand on his chest, and he stops for a brief moment before he returns to the kiss. He grabbed my hips and pushed me on top of the desk. His lips traveled from my lips to my cheek, down my neck. I inhaled a sharp breath when I felt his hard-on pressed between my legs.
The hallway light switches on.
6:30 am.
The man stops.
Mom is up.
He exhales softly, “I suppose we have to save this for another time.”
Another time?
When he moves back, the morning sunlight hits him perfectly. I’ve always heard that vampires are good-looking, but the news really dials down just how good-looking they are. His hand touches my cheek, “Next time we meet, tell me what you want.”
“What if I want the moon?” I’ve been hypnotized.
He smiles, “Which moon?”
The beating inside my chest only intensified.
I can hear Mom going downstairs to start her morning.
The man stood up straight and covered my eyes.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You’re going to forget about what happened today,” he whispers into my ear, “Later, there will be these men who come and would like to talk to you.”
Holy shit, is he using his powers on me?
“You were up all night, reading your book. Then, you fell asleep.”
My head feels light, and honestly, I didn’t like it. Without control, my body drops. He caught me in his arms and carried me to the bed. I fought to keep my eyes open, but it didn’t listen.
His blurry image comes into view, “Don’t fight it.”
“Not cool,” I somehow manage to say. I cannot believe he is using his Immortal powers on me without my permission. I want to remember my first hot kiss, even if it was with a stranger who broke into my house.
“Thank you.”
And off like a light, I go.
