It's Only a Vail

It was as if time had stopped for the three of us, but even slower for Draven. I saw a mixture of anger, joy and confusion in her face and to retaliate to what she just saw, in her drunken stupor, she smashed the whiskey bottle against the side of the building and was standing with the newley created weapon in her hesitant hand.
"Who the SHIT are you?," she directed at Teal.
Her breath inflamed the air with the scent of hot whiskey. When had she picked up this habbit?
Teal looks at her and in his calm, slightly raspy voice, he commands Draven to put down the bottle.
"Honey, it's me, Dad. Put down the bottle Draven. Let me explain. You're not even here right now. You're wasted off your ass. Honey, I'm sure you're gunna piss out a brewery. Just put down the bottle."
I stood there feeling like I was watching a movie where the guy is convincing that death is not the answer.
This wasn't a movie.
Draven swung the broken glass at Teal and sliced his bicep.
"MOVE BACK FUCKER!"
At that moment, time sped up again and Teal's eyes widened.
"Why would you do that! HUH?"
He lunged at Draven knocking her down as he took the weapon meant for him and sliced her arm and started devouring his daughter's own blood.
Screaming, Draven tried to kick but Teal was too stong. With his eyes glazed over with black, he was blind sided by the crack of elbow against the back of his head.

I stood over Draven with my hand exteneded, and with a firm grip I helped her to her feet. Teal was right, Draven was a walking brewery. She could barely walk, so I carried her back to the apartment like a dad would carry his injured daughter. The blood from her arm seeped on my shirt and I could feel my skin turn hot and my mouth moisten.
Not now.
Not in her time of need. I couldn't let my alter ego escape. With the help of liquor, my Draven would have peace at least for a short span of time.
I left her for short second to go rescue Teal, but found that all that was in his place was a teal stone in a puddle of whiskey and a blood trail leading away from the apartment building off into the surrounding neighborhood. The drenched stone had a saying etched on the bottom.
I wiped off the mixture of blood and alchohol and read the inscription,
"Failure doesn't exist, just lack of persistance to fix them exists."
The stone took a residnece in my pocket.
I had to escape from the lingering scent of the sweet, rose smell of blood that was intoxicating the air around me.

The apartment was exactly how I left it, with Draven passed out on the couch and her arm stained with dried crimson rose blood. There was a medical kit that hid behind her lotions and shampoos in our bathroom that I retrieved to patch up her wound.
Softly, I wiped away her stains and cleansed the deep gash in her arm. Her arm was taken care of.
She was taken care of.
I brushed her hair away from her face and felt myself wanting this cure more than ever so I could spend a normal life with her and always be here to take care of her. Right here.
I laid a blanket over her and a trashcan beside her in case she wanted to get rid of excess brew.

It felt relieving to just relax and pretend like I was a normal human again.
To think, six months ago, I was a normal pizza man, substitute teacher, husband, human, and one day a future father.
All that, gone in a blink of an eye and replaced by something so unimaginable that it only makes sense to Bram Stoker.

For right now, I want to pretend I am human again and that I live a normal American, male life. So I do what males do, search the kitchen for something spicey and a beer. Lucky for me, Draven loved cooking Mexican food, so there was a pot of chili with every spice imaginable in it. Ranging from jalepenos to hot peppers.
Yeah, I was planning to burn my taste buds out and love every second that I'm not crying. Of course Draven had beer handy. It wasn't beer, but she was Teal's girl, she had bottles upon bottles of whiskey and Malibu. Me dying must've struck her hard enough to crank out the liquor.
I'm sorry Draven.

With my bubbling chili and my glass of whiskey, I sink into the lazy boy that still held my cheek impressions and propped up my feet and unbuttoned my pants for pre lift off before my food settled. The remote was at hands reach, of course. And I did what any man would do at that point, turn it straight to cartoons. It was around the time that Robot Chicken, my favorite Adult Swim comedy, was on. It takes me back to where my human plants were rooted. As the stop motion Batman crawls through the sewers making fun of The Shawshank Redemption and says,"Wow smells like Batman Forever down here," I lose it and for the first time in six months...I laugh. It sounds like someone had just been coughing and then a full laugh explodes. It feels like I'm me again. I feel like I'm back.
But I'm not. I can't escape reality. Robot Chicken, extremely hot chili and alcholic beverages only vail over the truth.
Things are changing.

Draven wakes up from my laugh.
"I love this show," she says in a quiet voice. I'm sure she is feeling the hangover now like running into a parked car.
"Yeah, it never gets old does it?"
"I had the weirdest dream Kingsly. I saw my father and he was trying to...bite me."
I set my drink on the table and held her.
"Let's get you some asprin ok."
She followed me to the bedroom...hand interlocked with my fingers.
TO BE CONTINUED.....