In my family, days of my childhood are talked about somewhat in whispers. I was a child of mysterious motivation who did not enjoy human touch and could probably growl at elderly people if they dared glance at me with a smile.
Was I possessed? To this day, I’m unsure. Either way, there was something in me that enjoyed having people fear me. I had one advantage over many other children. I was quick. Like…really, really fast. The ice cream man didn’t stand a chance against bare-footed me on a smooth expanse of sidewalk.
At school, I was many things, but for a while I was a Vampire, and one to be feared. Should a student so much as glance incorrectly in my direction, I would mark them as a target. They would know they’d been marked by the intensity of my glare. I didn’t even have to speak a word.
As the doors tilted open to release us for recess, the hunt began, and my legs would pump me like a steam engine toward my unfortunate targets.
They would run…oh, yes, they would run. Often, they’d scream and their eyes would betray their fear. The Vampire had targeted them and there was no escape.
I didn’t have many friends, but I had power! What else could a little girl want?