Our Girl (Stack x Mary x Black!f!OC)
Minors DNI
Word count: 5.3k
Read on ao3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Contains: use of the n-word (I’m Black), some discussion of Stack and Mary’s past, aftercare, allusions to the obvious age gap, mentions of poor mental health, addiction, and suicidal ideation, mutual masturbation (but, like, telepathically and shit), possibly incorrect vampire lore
A/N: at long last an update 😭😭 anyways we’re gonna learn a little more about Michelle and her friends here
Michelle woke up, her head hurting, unsure if that encounter had been real or a dream. But as her surroundings came into view, she realized she was still in that strange house, so it was definitely real. She was in a different bed this time, with soft white sheets with blue flowers on them. Her entire body was tingling, somehow, as if every one of her nerve endings had been exposed.
She looked around. This room was a bit smaller than the one she’d been in, with white walls. When she pulled back the thick curtain, she could see that it was still dark out.
“Well, look who finally up.” Stack. She turned to see him leaning against the door frame.
“Wh- How’d I end up in here?”
“We figured you’d wanna sleep on clean sheets.” He chuckled a little. “You made quite the mess.”
She groaned at the memory and put her head in her hands. “Oh, God.”
“Nah, baby, don’t be embarrassed. That’s a real good thing.” He walked over to her and sat on the bed. “How you feelin’?”
Hmmm…. she didn’t quite know the answer to that. “Nothin’ hurtin’ too bad?”
She shook her head. “What time is it?” She figured she’d probably overstayed her welcome here.
“‘Bout three in the mornin’.” He grinned. “You in a hurry?”
“Well….no, but I should probably….”
“Lemme get ya cleaned up. C’mon.”
She pulled back the covers and tried to stand, but her legs were weak and her head was spinning. He caught her before she fell. “Yeah, you gon’ feel a li’l lightheaded for a while.” He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the bathroom.
He ran her a warm bath, with soap that smelled of something sweet- vanilla, maybe? She wasn’t sure. She sank down into it, the warm water relaxing her almost immediately. “Mind if I get in here with ya?”
She looked up at him. He was already taking his shirt off. “No, not at all.”
He finished undressing, then slid in behind her. “You did so good for us, baby.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her to him. “You so pretty.”
His touch was soft and gentle, nothing like the way he’d been manhandling her earlier. He was half-tempted to reach down and play with her pussy, but he figured she was still too sensitive there.
It was then that she decided to ask it. “So…. y’all are vampires? Like, for real?”
“Mm-hm.”
She turned that over in her head a little. So the weed hadn’t been laced, and Mary had actually bitten her. And…. “So that means I’m one now.”
“Yeah.” Poor thing. She all confused and shit. “Now look. I know this is all new, and you don’t feel like yourself right now. But once this passes, you gon’ feel better than ever. In more ways than one, pretty girl.” He playfully nibbled her ear, making her shriek and laugh.
Was he overselling it a bit? Maybe. In reality, being a vampire could be pretty lousy. But she’d find that out sooner or later. With a washcloth, he wiped away her ruined makeup. “Here, lemme get that. You got a li’l…. raccoon-eyes thing goin’ on here.”
She giggled at that comment. “Thanks.”
Wearing her panties and one of Stack’s T-shirts, Michelle sat on their couch. Stack and Mary were down the hall, but she could hear them as clearly as if they were right next to her. “I knew this was a bad idea,” said Stack. “Last thing the world needs is more of…. us.”
“Oh, c’mon, now….”
“And I told you that much ‘fore we left.”
“And I told you that this could be a good thing. It’s been just us two for so long, and that’s nice and all, but we both know it can get real lonely.”
“Yeah, but-”
“And didn’t you miss havin’ a proper feed? I know I did.”
She was right. Michelle’s blood had sated him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. “It’d be nice to have her around,” Mary continued. “Don’t you think?”
“Yeah.”
“And besides, Elias….” She smiled and placed a hand on his chest. “She seemed to take a particular shine to you.”
“Elias, huh.” Michelle smirked. “That your government name?” She filed that away for… her own purposes.
At this, they both made their way into the living room. Seems we forgot how well she can hear now, thought Stack. “Hey, honey!” said Mary. “You good?”
They sat down next to her. She was still a little lightheaded, but at the same time, she felt… refreshed, somehow. “Better than good.”
After a bit, she asked, “Y’all do this often?”
“Do what?” asked Stack.
“Y’know, bring home a third…”
He shook his head. “Last time we did that was in ‘78.” The young woman sitting next to him was probably a little girl then- he found that hard to imagine.
“Hm. Okay. And Mary, what’s…. what’s your deal? I mean, do you like girls for real, or do you just do this for fun?”
Mary just smiled. “What do you think, babydoll?”
For some reason, the pet name gave her butterflies. Her face got hot, and she looked away and scratched the back of her neck. “Well… okay, then. What was so special about me?”
Stack smiled. “Well, you real cute, for one. And….” He put an arm around her waist. “When I was talkin’ to you, I could just tell you wasn’t happy. Turns out I was right.”
He remembered the images he’d seen from her more recent memories: drinking glass after glass of wine in her living room, some TV show on that she was barely paying attention to. Screaming into her pillow. Deciding to start her day at four a.m., after trying and failing to sleep all night. Staring down at the L tracks and toying with the idea of jumping- and then the train pulled in before she could think about it any further.
“What are you talking about? I was having fun.” Deep down, she knew what he really meant. But she didn’t want to talk about it. Not with them, at least.
“He means with your life in general.” Aaaaand there it was. “We can see your memories now. And you can see ours.”
“Oh, really?” Michelle shifted a little. “So, are y’all, like, a thousand years old or some shit?”
They both laughed. “Not by a long shot,” said Mary. “Stack was born in 1898, and I was born in 1901, so that makes us….”
Stack jumped in. “Ninety-seven and ninety-five. I’ll be ninety-eight, end of December.”
“Yeah.” She laughed a little. “See, as the years go by, you start to lose track.”
“And… how old were y’all when you got turned?”
“Thirty-three and thirty-one,” he said. “But we’ve known each other since we was littler.”
Michelle could see some images of them as children, running on dirt paths, play-fighting, Mary kissing him on the lips behind a weeping willow. “We grew up together, in Clarksdale.”
“Wait, how’d that work? Mary, aren’t you….”
“White?” She smiled. “Didn’t work that way back then. My mama’s daddy was half-Black.”
“And…. her mama nursed my twin brother and I, after our mama died.”
“You a twin?” asked Michelle.
“Mm-hm.” His voice was softer now. And she could see a grown-up Stack hugging a man who looked just like him. Somehow, she could guess which one was Stack. “His name was Elijah, but he was called Smoke.”
Suddenly, his nickname made a little more sense. “Oh. Smoke and Stack. Like a smokestack.”
“Exactly. We were the Smokestack twins. And we made a real name for ourselves. We did it all: bootleggin’, pimpin’, robbin’ banks, trains…”
“Damn. And you never got in trouble with the law?”
“Nope. Not even once.” He sighed. “My brother saved my ass more than a few times. He was always lookin’ out for me.” He cleared his throat and stood up. “Lemme get the photo album.”
He took a large, leather-bound book off a shelf. “Here.” He opened it up. “The early years, we ain’t got a whole lotta photos of, but….”
He pointed to a black-and-white picture of him and his brother in military uniform, with a little boy clinging to Stack’s leg. “C’mon, now, Sammie, look at the camera,” coaxed Stack in the memory she saw.
“Cousin Sammie.” He chuckled to himself. “He was a li’l camera-shy back then. Funny, considerin’ how famous he got….”
Michelle began to piece it together. She didn’t know of too many famous Sammies from Clarksdale, Mississippi, especially not from their era. “Wait a minute…. you Sammie Moore’s cousin?”
Her father had played her some of his records growing up, and she’d sit on his lap as he told her the history and significance of the blues. “We made somethin’ outta nothin’,” he’d say. “That’s just what we do.”
“Mm-hm,” said Stack.
“That Sammie Moore?”
“The one and only.”
The memories were like a wound, having scabbed over over time, but they hurt all the same. He cleared his throat once again and pointed to the next picture, of a full-figured woman with dark skin standing next to Smoke. The caption: “Elijah and Annie wedding 12.1.1918.”
Michelle saw another memory, of Stack and his brother standing at a train platform as Annie walked by. Stack let out a low whistle. “Well, somebody been eatin’ her beans and cornbread.”
Smoke swatted the side of his head. “Boy, shut the fuck up.”
“My sister-in-law,” explained Stack now. “She was from Louisiana. And she knew hoodoo. You know what that is?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Yeah, well…. she knew a lot about a lot. The night Mary and I got turned, she figured out we were dealin’ with vampires, and she told Smoke to stake her if she got bit.”
She could see it now: Stack biting Annie, the pleading look she gave Smoke, his hands shaking as he staked her, her gaze going slack as she bled out. “Smoke was always a man of his word.”
“So…. who made you two, anyway?”
Well, that was a hell of a question. He sighed. “We- we’ll tell you that story later.”
“Well, okay.” She could see a few scattered memories- a humid night, the moon bright and full. Skin against skin, teeth sinking into flesh. And fire- lots and lots of it. She decided not to press the issue, though. “But did Smoke also die that night?”
“The next mornin’,” said Mary. “Klan came and shot up the place, and he killed ‘em all, but… he got hit, too.”
“I think deep down, he wanted to die, though,” said Stack. “Without Annie- and without me- he ain’t have nothin’ else to live for.”
“He must have really loved her.”
“Sure did.”
After a bit, she asked, “So, after that. What’d y’all do?”
“Got the hell outta Mississippi. Wandered all over. But, uh…. we been in Chicago the longest.”

He closed the book and set it down. “Not much else to say there.” Then he turned to her. “What about you?”
“Well, what do you wanna know?”
“You ain’t been in Chicago all that long, huh.”
She shook her head. “I moved here last year.”
“Where are you from, then?” asked Mary.
“Near San Francisco.” That was usually the easiest for people from outside California to understand.
“Oakland,” said Stack.
“Wait, you know where that is?”
An easy smile spread across his face. “Course we do. Been wanderin’ these United States since before you was born.”
“How old are you, anyway?” asked Mary.
“Twenty-three.”
Both their eyebrows went up. “A young thing,” said Stack. He smiled again. “And you got family down South, don’t you?”
She nodded. “My daddy’s people from Alabama.”
“Where?”
“Dadeville. It’s a real small town, you probably don’t…..”
“No, no, I know it. Been down that way myself. That lake is real pretty, even at night.”
After a bit, she scratched the back of her neck and said, “So…. I guess I got a few questions about the whole…. vampire thing.”
“Shoot.”
“Okay, first question. Do I need to stay away from garlic, and silver, and crosses and all that?”
“Garlic and silver, yes, crosses, no.”
“Okay. And…. can I still see my reflection?”
“Depends on the mirror. If it’s got silver in it, then no.”
She turned this over in her head. “Alright, then. Can I still eat actual food, or is it just blood from here on out?”
“Oh, you could. It just won’t taste like nothin’.”
“And it’ll come right back up,” added Mary.
Michelle groaned at this. “Goddamn it.”
“Oh, it ain’t all bad, baby girl.” He rubbed her shoulder. “We gon’ teach you everything.”
They sat in silence for a while. Then Stack yawned and said, “It’s pretty late. I’m thinkin’ we should get some shuteye.” He and Mary stood up. “Think you should, too. You gotta sleep durin’ the day, else you’ll get sick.”
“Okay, then.” She stood up, too.
“You’re welcome to join us in our bed,” said Mary.
“Think I’ll pass on that.” Sleeping in their bed felt like too much too fast.
“Alright, then, suit yourself,” said Stack. “But if you ever wanna join us, door’s always open.” He flashed his signature grin.
Michelle didn’t go to bed right away, though. Instead, she wandered around the place, looking at everything. There were stacks of records and CDs- mostly Sammie Moore, but others, too. Newer ones, like Biggie, 2Pac, LL Cool J, Keith Sweat. Prince’s Purple Rain. Some disco and soul records from the ‘70s. A couple Madonna albums: Like A Virgin and Like A Prayer. She assumed they were Mary’s.
Off to the left was a dining room, with a long wooden table and a glass chandelier- the candles in it appeared to be electric, though. A clean, white kitchen that smelled faintly of bleach. A bottle of Johnnie Walker scotch sat on the counter.
Finally, she made her way back to the guest room, thick, dark curtains over the windows. She got under the covers and, before she knew it, sank into a deep sleep.
When she woke up, it was dark once again. She pulled the covers back. Perhaps now would be a good time for her to head home.
“Well, hello, there.” Stack’s voice. Where is that coming from?
She turned around to see him and Mary standing in the doorway of their bedroom. “I think I should head home right about now.”
“Awww. Leavin’ already?” said Mary.
“Yeah.” She picked her dress up from off the floor and started to put it on. “You mind helping me zip up?”
“Sure thing.” She pulled the zipper up all the way.
She retrieved her purse and shoes from the living room, then left them her number on a slip of paper. “Call me.”
“Oh, we will,” said Stack, smiling. “Wanna see more o’ you.”
As she walked to the train station, she could only imagine how she looked right then, wearing last night’s dress and having slept on her hair. But nobody appeared to be paying attention to her. She looked around. Everything was in saturated color, like an old Technicolor film. She could hear every sound- snatches of conversations from people on the street, horns honking a few streets away, the scuttling of rats in a nearby dumpster, and heartbeats. Lots and lots of heartbeats, blood swishing through arteries and veins. Her mouth watered at the sound.
She stood and waited for the train, and once again, she was greeted with an influx of sounds and smells. She wasn’t just smelling the most prominent smells of urine and cigarettes, but also the people: sweat, perfume, hair products. She could even smell the cinnamon gum one teenage girl was chewing. She could hear little bits of people’s conversations. A young man hugging his girlfriend from behind, murmuring, “Mmm, you so fine,” at which the girl blushed and giggled. He kissed her neck, and she turned to him and, through laughter, said, “Damon! We in public right now!”
A blonde girl who looked like she’d stepped right out of Full House was twisting a plastic Walgreens bag in her hand and whispering to her friend- “God, I hope it’s negative.”
“You haven’t even taken the test yet.”
“I know.” Her voice broke a little. “I’m just so scared.”
The girls didn’t look any older than sixteen. Michelle hoped for her sake that the test was negative. The train pulled in, rattling all the way. The headlights were so bright she had to shield her eyes.
One thing she always noticed taking the Red Line was how the demographics shifted the further south she went- after 63rd, the passengers were all Black. Her stop was the one after that.
She walked past the gas station where she got coffee most mornings. Next to it was a check-cashing place. She turned the corner. The liquor store she frequented most evenings was across the street. “Shook Ones Pt. II” emanated from a parked car, the lyrics barely audible over the bass and the song’s iconic piano sample. It being a warm Saturday night, there was a crowd of young people standing in the parking lot, bottles or red cups in hand.
It was a strange feeling, walking into her darkened apartment after more than twenty-four hours away. She turned the lights back on and took her shoes off. Once in her room, she unzipped her dress, took off her bra, and changed into a T-shirt and shorts. When she pressed the button on her answering machine, the robotic female voice said, “You have five new messages.”
She listened to the first message. “Hey, it’s Denise. I’m at home right now ‘cause…..” A heavy sigh. “The nigga had a girlfriend. Can you believe that?”
She proceeded to explain how she’d gone home with the man she’d been dancing with at the bar, and then, just as she was giving him head, the girlfriend walked in, saw what was happening, and screamed. “So now I’m sittin’ here, watching…. a rerun of Cheers, ‘cause ain’t nothin’ else on at this hour. Anyway…. you probably not listenin’ to this right now ‘cause you gettin’ ya guts rearranged as we speak!” She laughed. “Alright, I’m goin’ to bed. I’ll see you at Charlie’s. And I want details!”
She pressed the button again. “Hey, girl, it’s Tasha. I just got home. Wanted to see if you made it home safe. Call me back. And remember, Charlie’s at 11!”
The next message was Denise again. “Hey, Michelle. You weren’t at Charlie’s this morning, so I thought I’d call to see what was goin’ on. I mean, it’s cool, you probably slept in, but Tasha was a li’l worried ‘cause she ain’t heard from you either. Just… just give us a call when you can, okay?”
The fourth message was from Tasha. “Not gonna lie, you scarin’ me a little. It’s three. You okay? Call me when you get this.”
And the fifth and final message was from Denise. “Goddamn, you still ain’t home yet?” She exhaled. “Tasha’s losing her shit right now, and honestly, I’m gettin’ a li’l scared, too.”
As Michelle listened to the messages, she realized she hadn’t thought about how this might have looked to her friends. For all they knew, she could have been dead in a ditch somewhere. She pressed the button to call Denise back, and she picked up immediately. “Hey, it’s Michelle. Sorry it took me so long to get back to y’all, I just got home.”
“Girl, we thought you done dropped off the face of the Earth!” She chuckled a little. “Tasha thought the nigga was, like, a serial killer and you were chained up in his basement or some shit.”
Michelle laughed at this. “She really need to quit watching Dateline.”
“That’s what I said!”
“Sorry to hear it didn’t go well last night.”
“It’s cool. I’m just glad I found out when I did, ‘cause if it had gone any further….” They both laughed.
“Right.”
“Anyway, I wanna hear what you did last night! The dick must have been good if you was at his place all day.”
She chuckled to herself. “You have no idea.”
“Oh, shit! Hold on, lemme get Tasha on the line!”
She patched Tasha in, who answered quickly, “Wh- what’s goin’ on?”
“Michelle here got a story.”
At this, she seemed to wake up a little more. “Oh, Michelle! Thank God you’re okay, I was so worried!”
“Sorry, I ain’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s all good. Just glad you’re okay.” A pause. “Now let’s hear it!”
“Okay, so…. his name’s Elias, but he goes by Stack. And….” She paused for effect. “Turns out he was there with his girlfriend.”
“Oh, shit!” laughed Denise.
“Wait, that was the girl sittin’ next to y’all, wasn’t it?” said Tasha.
She saw us? “Yeah.”
At this, the other two women started giggling madly. “And what’s her name?”
“Mary.”
“So what’d y’all do?” asked Denise.
She chuckled to herself. “Well…. I can’t really go into the play-by-play, but….”
To the best of her ability, she recounted the events of the night, everything except the bite, of course. And her friends were giggling, occasionally asking a clarifying question or two- “How big was it?”, “You came how many times?”- or making little jokes. It felt like college again, almost.
“Damn, Michelle, I ain’t know you was freaky like that!” said Denise when she was finished.
“Yeah, I bet you wasn’t doin’ all that with Eric…”
Denise cut her off. “Tasha, that’s probably still a sore subject for her.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” She cleared her throat. “And, yeah, no, last night was…. the best sex of my life, I think.”
After a bit, Denise asked, “So, do you…. like girls, or were you just experimenting and shit?” Quickly, she added, “I mean, we’ll always be cool with you, I just wanna know.”
“Uh… well…” She scratched the back of her neck. “I like her. That’s all I know for sure.” She smiled at the memory. Then, changing the subject, she said, “Now Tasha, I wanna hear about your night!”
So Tasha proceeded to tell them about the man she’d gone home with. Marlon, a twenty-five-year-old paramedic. “Tall, dark, and handsome,” she said, elongating the last word for effect. She described the sensual evening they’d shared, how he took her apart slowly and methodically with Keith Sweat playing in the background. But, unfortunately, she’d had a little too much to drink, and she threw up in his bathroom afterwards. “He was real nice about it, though. He had me drink some water, and let me sleep it off at his place.”
“Well, he sounds like a real keeper,” said Michelle.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Now if I play my cards right, I might have a man….”
“Well, I’m happy for you,” said Denise. “Hope it works out.”
Nobody said anything for a while. Then Denise said, “Well, I should go to bed. I gotta work tomorrow.”
“Aw, man,” said Tasha.
“We can’t all get summers off like you do,” quipped Michelle.
“Hey, y’all can teach, too, if y’all want to. You just won’t get paid jack shit.”
They all laughed at this. “Okay, I think I’mma go to bed, too.”
“Alright, good night,” said Michelle.
“Good night!”
Her friends each hung up with a click, and she lay back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. And she was feeling an intense desire for two things: blood and sex. She figured she could satisfy the latter more easily. So she took off her shorts, put her hand down her panties, and shut her eyes.
She rubbed her clit in short, fast circles, remembering the previous night, and the way Stack and Mary had touched her. She removed her panties for easier access, then eased two fingers into her slick entrance.
Meanwhile, Stack and Mary had gone out dancing, at a different place downtown. This time, they weren’t really looking to feed, just celebrate. Her back pressed to him, they moved together in time with the music. She spun around, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him. A wave of arousal washed over the both of them. As they undulated against each other, it got stronger and stronger until neither of them could ignore it any longer. She could feel his erection through his pants. Finally, he tugged her hand and whisked her to the bathroom.
He turned her around, lifted her skirt, and pulled down her panties. He rubbed himself against her slit, feeling just how wet she was. Ooh, shit, baby, you drippin’. As he entered her, she bit back a moan.
It was fast and filthy, the way she liked it, him holding her leg up so he could fuck her at just the right depth. He held a hand over her mouth, because he knew she could make a great deal of noise when he fucked her. It felt like when they were younger and had to be quiet, lest someone catch them.
They could each see Michelle sprawled out on her bed, half-naked, fingers buried deep in her pussy. She was wearing a baggy T-shirt, which her nipples poked through. Her lips were parted, letting out the softest little moans. She was so wet her fingers made a squelching sound. Then she pulled her fingers out and sucked them clean, a visual that turned them both on even more.
She pulled a white wand vibrator out of her bedside table drawer and plugged it in. Ooh, shit, she got one of those? thought Stack. Opening her legs again, she held the buzzing tip to her clit, which was still puffy from the previous night.
Mary could feel the vibrations on her own clit, and it was getting hard to stay quiet. She moaned into Stack’s hand.
Hey, pretty girl, thought Stack. You hearin’ me right now?
“Uh-huh,” she said weakly.
You see us?
“Mm-hm.”
He chuckled a little. Good. Now open them legs a li’l wider. Lemme see that pretty pussy.
She obeyed, giving them a better view of her glistening pussy. Her thighs were starting to shake a little. This felt more intense than usual. And she could feel Stack’s dick stretching her as if he was inside her, that fullness that she could feel all the way in her throat. “Oh, God….”
Mary’s voice. Lift your shirt up. I wanna see those titties.
She lifted the shirt, pulling the hem up above her chest. The sight of her breasts made their mouths water.
The pleasure was almost too intense, and she lifted the vibrator off. Uh-uh, keep that there. Stack. There was that edge in his voice that she didn’t know could turn her on so much. She whimpered, her legs shaking even harder now.
Awww, you gettin’ close, sugar? Mary’s voice, dripping with mock sweetness now.
She was feeling that familiar drop in her stomach. “Uh-huh.”
Let’s cum together, thought Stack. The three of us. You ready?
“Mm-hm.”
And with that, the three of them came together, him spilling inside Mary as she squeezed around him, her legs shaking. Michelle let out a scream as her body shook. Her vision began to blur a little.
Gasping, she came down from her high and turned off the vibrator. Stack pulled his pants up, and Mary bent down and pulled up her panties. He’d always liked the idea of her walking around with his cum dripping out of her. She looked back and winked at him as she pulled down her skirt and walked out of the stall first.
Michelle caught her breath, still feeling like her head was spinning. She stood up and got dressed, putting on a halter top and jean shorts. She already had someone in mind who she could bite. Putting on a pair of high tops, she picked up her keys and left her apartment once again.
Almost every time she went to the liquor store, without fail, there was a man that sat outside. His name was Ray, and he was about her father’s age, give or take a few years. His scraggly beard had some grays in it. He was clearly homeless, wearing the same stained brown jacket no matter the weather. He was friendly, always telling her, “God bless you” or “Have a blessed day”, and it would lift her spirits no matter how shitty her day had been. Sometimes, she’d buy him a 40, but if it was especially hot out, she’d buy him some water, too.
Tonight, like any other night, he was seated outside, watching the party in the parking lot. Like always, he was on the sidelines, seemingly invisible to everyone. Except Michelle, that is. She weaved her way through the crowd toward him. “Hey.”
A smile spread across his face. “You again. How you been?”
“Pretty good. How ‘bout yourself?”
He shrugged. “Same as always.”
She squatted down to meet his eyes. They were a deep dark brown, a little bloodshot around the whites. “Listen, I know you’re in a lot of pain,” she said. “And I can make it all go away.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And how you gon’ do that?”
She extended her hand. “Come with me.”
He took it and stood up. And she took him out of the parking lot, further and further from the crowd until the noise had reduced to a low buzz. She led him down a darkened alley that reeked of piss, beer, and garbage. “What the hell we doin’ here?”
“You’ll see.” She smiled and held onto the back of his neck, leaning in close. She could smell the sweat and cigarettes and booze seeping from his pores.
“Uh…..” He tried to pull away from her, clearly embarrassed. “N- now you real pretty, but I think you a li’l too young for me.”
“It’ll all be over soon,” she whispered. And with that, she unhinged her jaw and sunk her teeth into his neck.
His blood tasted bitter, like a mouthful of cigarette ash, but there was a little sweetness, too. She saw his memories play out like a film- his childhood on the South Side, as the youngest of four. He had a good singing voice, and he dreamed of being on the radio, like Jackie Wilson. Receiving a draft card in the mail. He was almost unrecognizable as a young man, clean-shaven and smiling. Before today, she’d never seen him smile. The thick heat of a jungle, machine gunfire, helicopter blades buzzing. Loud explosions, rotting, mutilated corpses. A wife, two kids. He still smiled, but there was no longer a light to his eyes. He barely slept- every time he closed his eyes, he was back in Vietnam, hearing the screams, the smells of napalm and burning flesh filling his lungs. But it went away every time he drank. His nightly glass of bourbon became two became three.
One fateful night in 1980, he crashed the car into a pole. He didn’t mean to, really. He’d thought he was good to drive. But no matter- his wife left him and took the kids. What followed was a string of lost jobs, failed relationships. One of his girlfriends introduced him to crack. The first time he smoked it, he felt like he was on top of the world. Soon, he didn’t care about anything else- just feeling that wonderful feeling again, even for a few fleeting moments. It was a matter of time before he was on the streets. And there he spent his days, in the neighborhood he’d grown up in, begging strangers for cash, or, if they wouldn’t give him that, then a bottle of something. That took the edge off, too, even for just a little bit.
The man went limp in her arms, and she let him fall. God bless you, too, Ray, she thought as she skulked off into the night.
