V is For

a short story

Warning for themes of familial abuse, blood, and religious trauma. This is a monster story, from the perspective of a child.

“He makes a lot of people feel better,” says my new teacher, crouching down to look me in the eye.

She wants me to go and talk to the School Counselor. His name is Dr. Judson. She says he can make me feel better about what happened, about That Night. “You can tell him all about how much you miss your mommy and daddy, and he’ll listen to everything you have to say.”

My new teacher thinks Mommy and Daddy are dead. So will Dr. Judson. So does everyone except Daniel (my big brother), and Great-Aunt Florence. I know the truth, but I can’t tell it. Daniel wants me to lie.

(“Lying is wrong,” I told him. “It’s against the Twelve Commandments.”

“Ten Commandments,” Daniel said, correcting, and wrinkling his nose ‘cause he doesn’t like church. Or at least he didn’t used to. “And it doesn’t matter, okay, Bobby? God…” He took a deep breath and patted my knee. “God would want us to lie. Okay?” And I didn’t understand it at all, because why would God ever want that? He told us not to. Tanner’s pastor says it’s in the Bible.)

Teacher takes me to Dr. Judson. His office is nice and full of toys, and Sesame Street plays on the TV. (The Count and his funny voice: Vun, two, free… but I'm too big for Sesame Street now, I'm big like Daniel now.) He lets me color when we talk. I color a picture of my family, the way it used to be, on black paper, because it’s more fun to make pictures when you don’t have to color in a background. Mommy and Daddy and Daniel and me, and just to be fair, I put Great-Aunt Florence in there, too, even though she didn’t live with us before. She’s nice. I tell Dr. Judson that maybe she can live with us when things go back to normal.

“Normal?” Doctor says. “What’s normal, buddy?”

“Normal is when we’re all a family again,” I say. I give me and Daniel big, red smiles. “We can all live together and be happy. Florence doesn’t usually live with us, but I think she can anyways, when Mommy and Daddy come back.”

Doctor frowns a little, but then he smiles again. He bends down to look me in the eye and he says, “Bobby, I want to tell you something important. Something I want you to remember. Your family can be anyone you want it to be. Anyone in the world. Sometimes family can be our friends. It can be our parents, or our grandparents, or our siblings… And your family can just be you and your brother and Aunt Florence. And that’s okay.”

“No. It HAS to be Mommy and Daddy, too.” I chew on the yellow crayon. (Are there enough stars in the picture? I just don’t know. That Night, it felt like there were a million bajillion. Neverending.)

Dr. Judson takes it away. “Don’t chew on that. Bobby…” He sighs real big. “Bobby, I know this is hard to understand, but… your mommy and daddy aren’t coming back.”

“Yes, they are,” I say. “You don’t believe me, but that’s okay. Daniel doesn’t believe me either. But I know they will.”

“Bobby…”

“They aren’t dead,” I say. “I know all ‘bout dead. Grampy died last year, and I went to his funeral, and we had to say goodbye forever, and it was so sad.” I remember watching the box go into the ground. A stone with Grampy’s name on it. Mommy and Daddy don’t have that.

I tell Doctor, “But Daddy isn’t gone forever. Mommy, either. They said they’d come back. They’ll come back and find me.”

I color in Daddy’s teeth with my best white crayon. I make them as big and white as they are for real.

---

When Daniel picks me up from school and I tell him about what Doctor said, he is mad. He pretends he isn’t, because he doesn’t like to get mad at me like he used to, but I can tell he is. His face gets like it did when he yelled at me for going in his room. He counts to ten so quiet he thinks I can’t hear, tap-tapping his fingers on the wheel, and then he says, “Bobby…”

“Huh?” I kick the dashboard.

He doesn’t yell at me for that, either. “Bobby, I told you. You can’t tell people about what happened That Night. And… you can’t tell people that Dad and Janet aren’t dead.”

“But they aren’t.” I stretch aren’t out really long, like bubble gum. Aaaarrrrrren’t. “You KNOW they aren’t, Daniel!”

He sucks in air. “Yes. Yes, I know, and you know, but other people can’t know. They won’t believe us. They won’t believe what happened. And if they think Dad is still alive, they might… they might…”

He sucks in air again, and again. He’s wheezing like Great-Aunt’s vacuum cleaner. He sounds like he is about to cry.

I stop kicking the dashboard and look over at him; he looks upset again, but not mad. There’s a difference between upset and mad.

I gulp, and I pat my brother’s arm, and I think, Don’t cry, don’t cry over and over again, like he can hear me, or like that might work. Sometimes, with me, that works.

Daniel doesn’t cry. When he talks again, he leans across and wraps his arms around me, and he says, “It isn’t safe. Okay? No one can know the truth. If they think Dad and Janet are dead, then everyone will leave us alone, and we can stay with Great-Aunt Florence, and we’ll be… we’ll be safe.”

We’d be safe with Mommy and Daddy, too. I know we would be. I wriggle away and shrink down in my seat, and I mumble, “I don’t wanna lie. And they’ll come back soon, anyways, ‘cause they’re not dead.”

Daniel mumbles, too. Almost quiet enough that I don’t hear him, but I do anyways; he says, “I hope they never do.”

---

I love Great-Aunt. I love her because she lets me watch as much TV as I want, and sits right there beside me and watches hours of Spongebob and Fairly Odd Parents and Phineas and Ferb. She hugs me and whispers, “You poor dear,” too much, but that’s okay. She’s just being nice.

Daniel helps me with my homework. He and Great-Aunt talk in the other room when they think I can’t hear because I’m watching TV, but I still hear. Great-Aunt says something about “bee-hay-vee-your-ull” problems. Daniel says, “It’s not his fault.” Great-Aunt says, “That’s why they want to send him to a counselor.” Daniel says, “Well, it’s no wonder, but it isn’t safe! If they find out… I mean, for Christ’s sake, you barely believed us, Florence!”

Mommy used to say Daniel shouldn’t talk to adults like that. She used to say he was too big for his britches. Great-Aunt doesn’t seem to mind.

Daniel says we should move, and Great-Aunt says, “It’s not that simple.” She says, “You know I love you boys, and I don’t want you to leave, but… are there other options? What about your mother, Daniel?” Daniel says, “Not an option. She isn’t… it’s not an option.”

Great-Aunt says, “I worry. What if they come here?” Daniel says, “They won’t,” but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. Great-Aunt says, “But what if they do?” and she sounds like she might cry.

I don’t want to hear them so I turn up the volume on the TV. Spongebob and Squidward are scared of a ghost with a spatula for a hand. But it isn’t really a ghost at all. They say someone like Nose-for-a-two was flickering the lights. A tall creepy man with white skin and pointy elf ears and too-long hands, like Daddy’s weird friend.

I grab the remote and change the channel.

Daniel and Great-Aunt let me watch TV so long that I fall asleep on the couch. I dream about Daddy. He gives me a big hug, and his arms are nice and cool, like the whoosh of Great-Aunt’s freezer, like the cold breeze outside.

---

Joe at school asks me why I live with my great-aunt while we’re playing on the monkey bars. I tell him it’s ‘cause something happened with my daddy and mommy and they went somewhere far away. “What happened?” Joe says, and I tell him I don’t know, I only remember a little. I keep asking Daniel questions, but he won’t tell me. Just says not to talk about it.

Yesterday, Dr. Judson wanted to talk about it. He wanted me to talk about That Night. He asked what happened with Mommy and Daddy, if I wanted to tell him why we had to come live with Great-Aunt. Same as Joe.

So I did. I played with one of the Monster Trucks in Dr’s toy chest, running it all around the table, and I talked and talked and talked. I said, “Daddy had been away on a trip. Mommy calls it a bizz-nuss trip. Daniel doesn’t like it when he goes away, ‘cause he doesn’t like Mommy very much. She isn’t his mommy. Just mine. His mommy went away when he was real little and never came back.

“Anyways, Daddy was gone, and Daniel got real upset the night he came back. He came into my room and asked if he could keep me company, and we watched SpongeBob on my TV even though I was ‘posed to be asleep. He was reading this book for school, called Dracula, except he kept putting it down and not reading. And I asked him what was wrong, and he told me about it. He didn’t want to, but I made him. I’m good at bugging. I’m a pest.”

Dr. Judson smiled a little. “What did he tell you?”

“He said Daddy called the house looking for Janet—that’s what he calls Mommy—and he picked up instead. He said Daddy sounded weird. He said that Daddy was coming home early and bringing a buddy from work to see us.” I ran the Monster Truck all around the table and made a growly sound with my mouth.

“Were you excited about that?”

“Yeah! I love my daddy. I love Mommy, too, but me and Daddy have a special bond.” I made my voice all quiet, cause it’s a secret, and Dr. said I could tell him anything I want, and it’ll be a secret just between him and me. “He’s my favorite parent, I think. Like Daniel is my favorite brother. But don’t tell Mommy. I don’t want her to be sad.”

“I won’t,” Dr. promised.

He looked at me kinda sad. I smashed two trucks together like a car crash. He said, “What happened next? When your dad came home?”

“He came home while Mommy was still at work. Daniel was reading his stupid school book, but I was done with my homework, so I got to let him in. He had his friend with him, but I didn’t recognize him. He looked funny. Like a ghost or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was just real white-looking, like he was sick. And he sounded sick, too. I thought he was sick.” I frowned. “Daddy smelled funny, too. I thought it was maybe the trip. And I wanted Daddy to tell me ‘bout it, but he said later. He said they were gonna have a grown-up dinner with Mommy, and he wanted me to go upstairs til it was done. He said he’d order us pizza and everything. Daniel didn’t wanna go. He and Daddy fought about it. They’re always fighting, and I don’t like it!

“But Daniel went. Daddy said he had to. And I hung out in my room, and watched movies all night, and ate pizza, but Daniel wouldn’t watch with me. He stayed at the top of the stairs all night long. He was spying, I think. Mommy says you shouldn’t spy, it’s impolite.

“Anyways, I fell asleep sometime. I dunno when. Mommy never came up to make me brush my teeth or put on my pajamas. And no one read me a story! But I went to sleep during one of the movies.” I squeezed the Monster Truck hard in my hand, like I was a giant and could crush it into bits. I wished I was, that I could be big and strong like Daniel and Daddy.

“And then I woke up,” I whispered. “Daniel woke me up. I heard screaming.”

I couldn’t keep going then. Dr. Judson wanted me to, but he didn’t make me, and I didn’t wanna talk about it.

I didn’t want to tell him that the screaming sounded like Mommy.

I couldn’t talk about what happened the rest of the night, even though I remember it perfect. Daniel woke me up and made me put a coat on. He picked me up in my PJs, and made me grab Teddy, then he ran for the door. He ran all the way down the stairs. I was still mostly asleep, rubbing my eyes and holding Teddy and asking Daniel what was happening, but he wouldn’t say.

Daddy’s friend was lying on his face in the kitchen. I think he was asleep. And I saw Mommy on the couch, and she was asleep, too, and she had red all over her neck. Daddy was in the hall, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, wiping his mouth. It looked like he’d been eating spaghetti; his face was messy.

“Daddy!” I said. “What’s going on? Where are we going?”

“Don’t,” Daniel said, and he was crying. “Bobby, don’t, that’s—that’s not Dad…”

“Don’t be stupid,” I told him, and I tried to get down, but Daniel wouldn’t let me. He squeezed me close. He was holding something in his hand. One of the plastic cross necklaces I got at Vacation Bible School. A green one.

He held it up towards Dad, who just sort of looked at us.

“We’re going away now,” Daniel said. He was holding me too tight. “Don’t—don’t follow us. Don’t you follow us.”

“Son,” said Daddy, and he sounded sick, he sounded as sick as his friend from the trip. He started to reach out towards me, but Daniel put his hand out and Daddy made a hissing sound and yanked his hand back.

“We’re going,” Daniel said, and he turned for the door real fast, and I looked over his shoulder to see Daddy, who was watching us leave. He had a weird mark on his forehead that I couldn’t see, but it looked like an ouchie, it looked like it hurt, and he said, “I’ll see you again, buddy. I’ll see you soon…” And buddy is his special nickname for me, so I knew he was talking to me.

Right then, on the playground, I think up some more stuff to tell Doctor, after Daniel picked me up. I want to tell him the rest of what happened—I changed my mind. I want to tell him about the ouchie on Daddy’s forehead, how it was kind of shaped like my plastic cross. I wanted to tell him about how Daddy’s teeth had gotten bigger, when he came back from his trip.

I don’t tell Joe any of that, though. I hang from the monkey bars and think about how Daddy picked me up and hugged me That Night, and how he sort of smelled like the lucky penny I carried around in preschool last year. (That was my favoritest penny, and Daddy smelled just like it, like how it tasted.) He hugged me and whispered in my ear, “You wanna know something, buddy? Tonight, I’m gonna teach you to fly.”

I jump from the monkey bars, throw my arms out, and I fly, just like Daddy.

---

I hear Great-Aunt Florence and Daniel talking at night. Great-Aunt says, “The police—” and Daniel says, “They don’t know—” and Great-Aunt says, “They won’t believe you—” and Daniel says, “Don’t you think I know that?” I pull the covers over my head and cover my ears, but I still hear Aunt Florence say, “Vamp—” and Daniel shout, “Don’t say it! Don’t fucking say it!” I shove my head under the pillow to block out more. That’s a bad word; Mommy yells when Daniel uses it.

I think I know what Great-Aunt was going to say. I heard Daniel say it on the phone, That Morning, when he thought I was asleep. He was telling someone that Daddy was that, the v-word; he said that Daddy got Mommy—Janet, he said—that Janet had hurt Daddy’s work friend, and tried to keep Daddy away, too, because she didn’t want to be a v-word. I asked him what he meant while we were eating donuts in a parking lot; Daniel was all slumped over the wheel, drinking coffee (I hate coffee but it smells good), and when I asked, his eyes got all big, and he said, “Don’t say that, Bobby. Don’t ever say the V word.” When I tried to say it again, he yelled, and then he cried. Daniel almost never cries.

So I don’t say it. And neither does he, and neither does Great-Aunt.

The voices go quiet, and I’m still awake, looking around my room, waiting for someone to put me to bed. My new room is all covered in crosses even though we’re not really Christian. I have my cross necklace from VBS, from when I went with my old best friend, Tanner. Daniel brought us with it That Night. I don’t know why, because he didn’t like me going to VBS, and neither did Mommy; it was the one thing they agreed on. But Daniel packed all my Bible stuff when we left. He left all our favorite things but he brought stupid Bible stuff he said he didn’t even believe in.

I think these crosses on the wall are Great-Aunt Florence’s, though. They’re really nice, nicer than my necklace. That one is hanging on my bedpost.

The room stinks, too, like pizza night, but not nice. Daniel put it all together for me when we came here, and I don’t like it. I miss my toys and my Star Wars posters. I miss my night light. Why couldn’t we bring it?

Daniel comes up after the fight and reads me a story. We’re in the middle of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. I listen, and I play with one of my army men while he reads. (Great-Aunt gave them to me. They used to belong to her husband.) I think about how Lucy and Peter and Susan and Edmund are away from their parents, and they aren’t in the story at all. How Peter is always telling the others what to do, like Daniel does with me. How he protects them from bad things, but also they want to go home.

Daniel finishes a story and kisses me goodnight. He turns off my lamp, so only my new night light is on. I don’t like it cause it’s not as bright as my old one, and it’s not green or shaped like a lightsaber. It makes the room all yellowy and full of shadows. I pull my covers up to my chin. I say a prayer for Mommy and Daddy to come find me, like Tanner’s Sunday School teacher taught us, even though I don’t believe in God.

I never had a reason for God, Before That Night.

But now my room is full of crosses. And I don’t understand.

And the Sunday School teacher said God listens to all our prayers and sorrows. And He has the power to make it all better.

And we really, really need things better now. We need to be a family again.

I tell God all that cause I think maybe he’d understand.

---

Later, I wake up, cause someone is knock-knock-knocking on my window.

I sleep right under the window, but with curtains, so monsters can’t see me. (They’re good curtains. Great-Aunt bought them at the Ikea just for me.) I’m right by the window so the knocking is right next to my head.

It scares me at first, and I pull my covers over my head and scrunch down real small.

Tap tap tap. Knock knock knock.

It keeps going. A monster, come to get me. I wish Daddy was here to protect me. I wish Daniel hadn’t taken me away.

Taptaptaptaptap. It’s gonna break in. I’m about to call out for Daniel when the knocking monster says, “Bobby? Are you there?”

Daddy!

It’s Daddy’s voice. I pull the covers back off and sit up to open the curtains, and there’s Daddy, sitting on the roof outside my window, his eyes bright in the dark. His face is all shadowy, but I still know it’s him; I’d always know my dad.

“Daddy!” I press my hand to the glass. “I knew you’d come back!”

Daddy puts his hand on the glass so it’s up against mine and smiles huge. I can see his new big teeth. “Buddy!” he says. “Boy, I’ve missed you. Can you let me in?”

I laugh. Dad is always joking. “You’re silly, Daddy! Why can’t you go in the door?”

“I can’t get in the door, Bobby.” Daddy sort of sounds mad, like when he’s arguing with Daniel. But he sees me screw up my face like I’m gonna cry (which I feel like I might), and he smiles, and says nice, “Just—unlock the window. Can you do that?”

I rub my eyes with my sleeve. “How?”

Daddy points to a thingy on top of the window, like a switch. “Just turn this the other way,” he says. “Then push it up from the bottom. Okay?”

So I do that, with Daddy showing me how. And it isn’t even hard! The window is heavy, but I use my big-boy muscles, flexing them for Daddy through the glass to make him laugh. As soon as it’s up, I try to throw myself at Daddy for a hug, but he holds up a hand to stop me. “Can I come in, Bobby?”

I giggle. “Yes, Daddy.” That’s why I opened the window! I move back and he crawls in, onto my bed, before he hugs me. I hug him back tight. “Missed you, Daddy.”

“M-missed you, bud.” Daddy is shaking in my arms and making a weird sound, like our cat Socks did when we took him to the vet. “Can… c-can you do me another favor, bud?”

I hold on tighter. “Sure, Daddy.”

He pulls out of the hug, quick, and starts to crawl backwards. He’s moving towards the window, like he’s gonna leave again. “Get up a-and… take those cr—those cr-cr…”

Maybe he forgot the word. “The crosses?” I help him.

“Yes, son. Pl—please.”

“Okie-dokie.” I get off the bed and pull down the crosses that I can reach. There’s a lot, so it takes a long time, and I almost forget the one on my bed. I try to bring them to Daddy, but he shakes his head hard, his teeth chattering. “Put them AWAY,” he says, almost yelling, and I do it fast, shove them under my dresser. I don’t like his Big Voice.

Daddy’s still shivering when I come back up. “Thank you, Bobby,” he says. “Come here.”

He holds out his arms, so I go to hug him again. He kisses me on the head. His teeth are sharp. He still smells like my penny.

I still feel a little crying like, from Daddy yelling, and from how much I’ve missed him. “Where did you go? Why didn’t you come sooner? Why did we have to come stay with Great-Aunt Florence?” I wipe my nose on his shirt. “Daniel said you wouldn’t come back. He said it… wasn’t safe…”

Daddy frowns big, big, and I think he’s mad at me again. “Daniel doesn’t understand,” he says, stern. “It’s a grown up thing that he doesn’t understand.”

“Does Great-Aunt understand? She’s a grown-up.”

Daddy’s still frowning. “Listen to me, Bobby. It’s late. And you need to sleep.”

“Aw, Daddy, no…” I whine.

“Yes.” Daddy points to the pillow, so I lie down. He tucks me in, pulling the covers to my chin, and making a face. “Shit, it reeks in here.”

“Wait!” I remember something, suddenly, and sit up in bed. “What about Mommy? Is she here, too?”

Daddy’s face softens some. “Yes, she’s here. I’m going to let her in.”

I kick with excitement. “Mommy! I want to see Mommy!”

I try to get out of bed, but Daddy stops me. He pushes me back down. “You’ll see her in a little bit, all right? In… in the morning,” he says. “Right now, I want you to close your eyes and get some rest.”

“I don’t want to!”

“You have to,” he says.

“But wh-hy?”

“Because Mommy and I need to have a talk with Daniel,” he says. “A grown up talk. You can’t come. But when we’re done… we’ll come up and talk to you.” He reaches down to tickle my tummy. “A Bobby talk, just for you.”

I giggle a little, even though I’m still mad. “Can’t sleep,” I say.

“Yes, you can.” Daddy tucks me in again, puts Teddy next to me, and kisses my forehead. “Close your eyes. It will be okay.”

I yawn, even though I don’t want to. “You’ll come back?”

“Of course.”

I believe him, because he’s Daddy. He’s Daddy, and he doesn’t lie.

So I hold Teddy tight and close my eyes and go to sleep, just like he says. I hear Daddy close the door as he leaves, his footsteps going down the hall. I lie there and think about seeing Mommy, think about being a family again, until I fall asleep.

---

Only, I don’t sleep very well. I keep hearing voices, arguing, shouting, like when Mommy and Daddy and Daniel fight after my bedtime. I hear Great-Aunt Florence scream.

The screaming doesn't wake me up, not all the way. It's sort of just like a dream. What wakes me up is Daniel. I hear him shouting my name—Bobby, Bobby—and I hear his footsteps pounding in the hall. Maybe he's coming to get me. I get out of bed and go to open the door. But before I get there, there is a loud thud outside, and Daniel groans. And I hear Mommy's voice, tight, angry, saying, "Don't you dare!"

I whip open the door just as Daniel says, "Janet…" And his eyes bug out when he sees me. "Bobby," he says.

He is lying on the floor and his shirt is all red and wet, and he's trying to crawl across the floor. But Mommy steps in front of him. "Baby," she says, and holds her arms out for a hug.

"Mommy?" I say. I don't let go of the doorknob.

"Bobby… you let them in?" Daniel says behind Mommy. His voice is rough. The red is spilling over his lips when he talks—Blood, I think. Blood. "You let them in? Why—"

"That's enough," Mommy snaps, and then she stomps on Daniel's hand.

Daniel cries out. I step a few steps back into my room, whimpering a little and trying not to cry, because I don't know why this is happening.

That isn't something Mommy does. She fights with Daniel all the time, but she’s never stomped on his hand, or my hand, or…

I clutch the doorknob and rub my eyes and stare at Mommy and think about what Daniel said That Night: That's not Daddy.

I wonder if he’s right. I wonder if that’s maybe not Mommy either.

"Run," Daniel says. He makes a sound like he's going to throw up. "Bobby, ru—"

"Son. Please." It's Daddy, coming up behind Daniel. He crouches beside Daniel on the floor and puts his hand on his head. "Relax. Just relax. This will all be done soon, and then you'll feel so much better."

Daniel sounds like he's going to cry, too. He's wiggling around like he wants to get away from Daddy, but he isn't moving much at all. Daddy's mouth is red like Daniel's. He wipes it with his sleeve. Bad table manners. Mommy should be mad.

"Daddy?" I whisper. "Mommy? What's going on? What's… what's wrong with Daniel?"

"Buddy, please, everything is…" Daddy sounds impatient. "Jan?" he says to Mommy.

Mommy comes and picks me up before I can decide if I want her to. But then she hugs me and says, "Bobby, baby," and it feels good, and I sort of don't mind anymore. She doesn't smell like Mommy, but her hugs feel just the same.

"Mommy?" I say, and I hug her around the neck. "What's wrong with Daniel?"

"He's just sick, honey. He'll feel better in the morning." Mommy kisses my forehead. Her mouth leaves a sticky patch behind. "Come on. I'm going to tell you a bedtime story."

She goes into my room and closes the door behind her. Daniel is still calling my name in the room, but Daddy is shushing him. He must be really sick.

"Where did you go?" I burrow my head into Mommy's neck. She feels cold. "I missed you and Daddy."

"I know, baby." Mommy sets me on the bed and climbs in beside me. "It's all okay now. We found you, and we're going to be a family again."

"Really? You promise, promise?" Daniel must not have known. He doesn't know everything. Mommy says that all the time: You don’t know everything, Daniel. But ever since That Night, Daniel’s known so much.

"I promise, promise." Mommy tucks us both in and pulls me into her lap. She strokes my hair and hums my favorite lullaby, and my eyelids droop, even though I'm not tired at all. "We're going to be a family forever."

"Good," I say.

"We'll never leave you again. Never ever."

"That's what I want." I shut my eyes and cling to Mommy as she pulls me closer. She's holding me like a baby. She rocks me and hums and hums til I feel sleepier than ever before.

I yawn big big, and squeeze my eyes open one more time to look at Mommy and say, "Mommy? Will Daddy really teach me to fly?"

"Of course, baby." Mommy shuts my eyes with her hands and hugs me close. "When you wake up… oh, we'll have so many things to teach you."

It's so so easy to get sleepier and sleepier, to relax and drift off in Mommy's arms. She leans down to kiss me goodnight, kisses me all over my face.

I’m almost asleep when she finds my neck, where her kisses hurt, where they sting like a pinch—like the Doctors always say, Little pinch, or Little ouchie…

It is a little ouchie. Almost like a bite.

But I'm not scared. It's just Mommy.

— Wilmington, October 2021–Norfolk, September 2025

Author’s Note: I began this piece in October 2021, while in Fiction I class at UNC-Wilmington, fresh off viewings of Midnight Mass (2021), and the TV version of What We Do In The Shadows. I was struck by the desire to write horror stories with somewhat-oblivious protagonists, and the idea of a child unwittingly letting in a vampire. (Although I undoubtedly drew inspiration from the above, I often joked, This is a story about vampires that are not funny OR sexy!)

This story owes a lot to the advice of Wendy Brenner and the Fiction II workshop in spring of 2023; Edward Terry; CJ Brady; and early readers August P. and Jordan G. Thanks and love to you all! You undoubtedly made this story much better.