I dropped her as soon as we’d crossed the porch – searching the room for something that would serve; the sofa would do for now.
I picked her up and slung her across my shoulders… took a few faltering steps and almost tripped on the remains of a broken table. A few more revealed that the sofa’s surface was riddled with nails and broken glass; hardly a suitable bed for the oh-so-important Amy. I snorted at that thought: poor Amy, it’s a long way from being the popular little cheerleader to being slung over a dark soul’s shoulder. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her.
Not human, came the stark reminder, not Amy
I shook my head and looked around the room for another resting place. The kitchen seemed unlikely and the toilet would hardly be large enough, maybe upstairs… Passing through the room, Amy’s auburn hair caught and tangled in the remains of an umbrella, used as a lampshade and she slipped from my hands to crash onto the junk-filled floor. I gave the pencil a perfunctory prod before laying her on my lap and untangling the curly strands.
Her heavy form felt so alive and warm that I kept checking the pencil, making sure that it’s cheap wood bit into her breast. I can’t remember how long I sat there, hands tangled in her hair with the umbrella, looking into that perfect face, at that perfect body. Not thinking, but lost in thought. With a pang of guilt, I noticed her quilt had fallen open and felt myself blush. Feeling even more stupid for blushing; I picked it up and tied it briskly back around her wasp-like waist before setting myself to freeing her hair again. That task finished, I slung her back onto my shoulder, resting my hand firmly on the back of her thigh to keep her from slipping again. Easy there, take care.
Picking my way carefully through the rubbish, I headed for the stairs and trudged up them, Amy’s body weighing me down every step. At the top of the steps, I looked up to find myself looking back and almost dropped Amy again before I realised that it was simply a full length mirror, half covered in a dirty white cloth.
Pulling the cloth back, I smiled grimly; half covered in blood and riddled with gashes and tears, I looked like a tramp. Over my shoulder, Amy’s smoothly rounded thighs, ending in pure white panties gazed back at me. Reaching up to tug her skirt down to cover it, I thought again and let my hand drop back to my side. Taking a deep breath, I forced my chest out and tried my best to look like a brave vampire hunter, twisting my head to the side and up slightly, like they do in the movies. It just didn’t work; after a few minutes, I had to release my breath and gasp for air. A fine hero, I’d make. I thought sarcastically, looking back at my self and Amy’s rear. Then, a bemused frown creeping across my face; I slid my hand softly along the inside of Amy’s thigh, watching in horror as it stopped to rest neatly in the warm crease the white cloth made between her legs. Not human, came the words, not Amy. Feeling myself blush, I gritted my teeth and pushed my fingers further, digging through the soft fabric…
Looking into the mirror, a stranger gazed back at me, rubbing his fingers softly up and down the soft white crease. Not human, I thought dazedly, not me?