The brown leather jacket snugly clinging to my petite body barely kept me warm except for in the broad strokes of sunlight. The dark orange hat crushing my thick, jet black shoulder length curls didn’t help to lift my sour mood. Upon pursing my dark pink, full lips allows my navy green eyes to flit around the scenery doing nothing to ease my scorned nerves. I hated the city that overflowed with tourists all of who could afford to spend a cozy night in a warm bed.

BELLFLOWER has done nothing but bleed me dry like a vampire—I’m not the only one either. No one in the once magical city saw human beings as human beings; they saw those who struggled as inhumane criminals. Yet if you had an animal that you had to leave behind with no help from the animal shelters; they’d crucify you anyway. The animal and homeless shelters all have one thing in common—they’re full of bullshit; not yearning to help those who struggle. They criminalize anything that is different from them, especially when what’s different barely can breathe.

If you mistreat a person, no matter the circumstance, surely you will mistreat an animal. Animals can survive in the wild—it’s a given fact even the most domesticated of animals could go wild and hunt for their survival. How are people trying to make it through seen so differently; they’re mistreated more than the animals people feign concern about? I’m struggling to understand the logic of our society—always have been unable to comprehend the nonsense. When the bench beneath my bottom shakes, my heart picks up speed as my brother tears me from my dark, bitter, treacherous thoughts.

“I have a plan.” George Reardon voices, running his hands down his black jean clad legs. His smoky gray eyes held determination as his short, black hair was messy; out of sorts. He was five foot ten with tan skin, and some curves to him. He looked like the utter mess that Victoria and I felt like we were.

“What plan? Did you manage to call him?” Victoria Reardon speaks up with hope slithering into her sea green eyes. She was five foot eleven, slim with a curvy waist, and fair skin. Her long, wavy, strawberry colored hair bounces as she eyes George who slowly begins to nod his head.

“I did call him.” George said, keeping his voice to a low hiss.

We were sitting in front of a gas station since we felt partly safe after having to flee a former camp of ours. It was mid-December. The holidays were a pain in my arse, reminding me that nothing good came of it.

“You’re being vague.” I inform George as if the twenty five year old doesn’t already know this. I watch George grind his jaw as if he heard something he didn’t like.

“It’s just us.” George breaks the news as a gasp flees the lips of Victoria.

I’m not surprised. None of our family members seemed to give a fuck about us unless it benefited them in some way. I rolled my navy green eyes, gnawing on my bottom lip as silence infiltrated the streets. I raise a black eyebrow. “Did everything suddenly go silent?”

Victoria raises her strawberry colored eyebrows, following my gaze to the stillness of the atmosphere. Goosebumps creep onto her arms. “Where did everybody go?”

George frowns, casting his eyes around the vacant streets. He shrugged since people were out and about—no matter what time of the day it was. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

A sickness grows in the pit of my stomach. I don’t have this feeling that everything was going to be alright. I shiver as the temperature drops below the normal for a cold blasted winter. “We shouldn’t ask you. You tend to jinx things, G.”

George scoffed, offended by the truth. He folded his arms to his chest, having been sitting between us. “I am not a jinx. You say it every time I perceive things a certain way.”

Victoria sucked in a sharp air of breath which caused George to cut his eyes to her. “She’s got a point. You do tend to jinx things. Every time you say something is going to happen—the opposite happens.”

“Whatever. You women are lunatics.” The twenty five year old, disgruntled George tells us.

Victoria is thirty and I’m twenty six. We weren’t young anymore, having been camping for quite sometime. She shrugs. “I’m sorry that the truth stings, George, but Melanie isn’t wrong. If you really think about it…”

I wait for my sister to keep speaking, confused about why she would have trailed off. I clear my throat, pushing myself to lean forward to glance past George in order to get a better view of Tori. “Tori?”

Victoria maintains this shocked expression as she drums up what she can explain to us. “I just remembered something. Do you remember how I said, Bellflower is like a parasitic vampire?”

“So?” I roll my eyes while George moans, finding her question insane.

“There is no such thing as vampires!” George hissed, becoming fed up with us. He proceeds to add something else as an afterthought. “Do you remember when you two thought the Backstreet Boys were real? It turned out to be a figment of your women’s imagination. No woman wants a guy who can dance, sing, and make you swoon in such a mushy, pathetic way.”

I grow irritated with George, shaking my head at him. He was the one who got the truth backwards since they did exist. I find Victoria side eyeing our brother before she meets my navy green eyes. “You were saying before the wannabe spoke up?”

“There was a rumor that Bellflower became colonized by vampires—overflowing, infiltrated by parasitic vampires, to be exact.” Victoria mutters, recalling what she had read somewhere in a book. She had been doing research on the hostile city of Bellflower causing me to frown.

“Do they look like people?” I inquire just as Victoria shakily nods.

“That they do. They also blend in with the shadows, cause the temperature to drop lower than the average, and they do have fangs. They don’t feed off blood, but energy—mostly negative.” Victoria goes into detail just as George begins a nervous chuckle.

I look over at my brother, unsure as to why he was chuckling in a nervous manner. “What’s wrong?”

Clearing his throat, George shrugs as he opens his mouth to speak. “I could have sworn I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. I don’t think we should wait here any longer.”

Victoria takes a pause to process his words, cutting her sea green eyes around. She stands up, nodding her head. “What do you suggest we do then? I’m considering the old camp in order to bide our time.”

George seems to agree with our sister as he vigorously nods. “I’m with you.”

I find George agreeing unusual since he’s not one to really agree with us on much of anything. I mirror Victoria in standing up, just as George does. A trickle of a chill spreads down my neck to my spine allowing my concern and irritation to grow. Blue and red flashes in front of my eyes causing me to shield them. “Is that a police officer?”

Victoria scoffs. “It figures. Never fails when you form a plan—they always want to stop you or criminalize you.”

The police car stops right in front of us. A burly, beer gutted, red skinned man cuts his dark, beady eyes over to us. “Can I help you ladies?”

George rolls his smoky gray eyes. He hated how rude people could be—lumping him in with the female population. If anything, he was a man child; not yearning to adult. “We’re all good, Officer Brooks.”

The Officer cuts George a glare. He catches an attitude with our brother, not having realized there was a guy with us. “I wasn’t talking to you. Shouldn’t you be moving along?”

“We were just on our way.” Victoria replies, shooting Officer Brooks an uneasy smile. Something about the beer gutted, ginger seemed familiar—not just to Tori as memory tried to serve me correctly.

I know which direction we should head so I started walking with Victoria and George following my lead. I had my backpack of necessities glued to me as did Tori and George. Worry infiltrates every fiber of my being as Officer Brooks seems to wait, watching as we move along. “Isn’t he the same dick who has tried to run us over several times?”

George combs through his memory, coming up with the truth as he pouts. He slowly nods his head. “I think you might be right.”

Between the three of us, we grew quiet, not uttering another word to one another. We walked in silence, crossing the road quite a few times. The idea of returning to our old camp began to bother me as I freeze in my tracks, clearing my throat. “I don’t know about returning to an old campsite. What if some drug addict is waiting?”

“We should be safe behind the Bamboo Gardens, out on bus route seventeen.” Victoria mused, unable to buy her own words.

“It was hardly safe when we were staying there.” I remind Tori just as George releases a shaky breath.

“I’m not sure what we can do. I don’t know where we could go in order to be safe.” George informs us, biting his bottom. He stopped with Victoria a few inches from me.

I’m about to open my mouth to speak when a sharp hiss comes from my left. Narrowing my navy green eyes, I cut them to the darkness of the early morning hours. My brother, sister, and myself had been roaming downtown Bellflower since we were shit out of luck—nowhere to go. I don’t see anything while the small, barely visible hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “H-hello?”

George scowled with his gray eyes shooting to me. He slowly shook his head. “Can you not give the creature in the dark ammo?”

I nervously chuckle. “It’s not my intention, but I’m rather anxious if you couldn’t tell!”

Another hiss comes from the dark before something lunges into me, knocking me to the concrete pavement on the sidewalk. We were under a bridge off of a highway as I glare up at Officer Brooks with two sharp fangs protruding from his upper and bottom lip. This deep hatred for the burly man burns deep within me. “Get off of me, sicko!”

Officer Brooks is about to sink his teeth into me when George slams his backpack into the back of the man’s head. The Officer crumbles onto me causing bile from nausea to erupt in the middle of my throat.

George is sweating as he sets his backpack onto the concrete of the sidewalk. He clears his throat. “Tori help me shove this mother trucker off of Melanie.”

Victoria stood stunned and speechless before she processes George’s words. She rushes over, grunting as they push Officer Brooks off of me into the wet, dew flavored grass.

I had been struggling to breathe since the man had been pressing into my ribs, restricting my airwaves. “Help me!”

George extends a hand to help me to my feet as my mood further sours.

I brush off my leather jacket just as headlights come into view. Fear slithers into my heart causing me to frown. “Who could that be?”

A black limo pulls up next to us. The door of the back swings open to reveal a kind, youthful, smug yet familiar face. “Would you three care to join me or do you prefer the freezing cold of mid-December with a crooked Officer who’s due to wake up in a second?”

George snatches his up backpack, striding over to the limo, just as the unnamed assailant slides over to make room. He climbs idly into the back of the limo with us soon joining him and the stranger. “So…Uncle Matthew Sweet?”

“You have me confused with my father.” He corrects with a deep, amused tone in his hazel brown eyes. He’s got short, wild, dark brown curls with broad shoulders, a crisp skin complexion, and the height of a tall male. His lips were full, pink, smirking over at us. “I’m his son; Julian Sweet. He adopted me after marrying into your family—sometime down the road.”

George stroked his chin while I chose to soak in the newfound information. “Interesting.”

I raise a black eyebrow, finding the notion Interesting indeed. “Where is Uncle Matt?”

Frowning, Julian shrugs his shoulder—evidently upset about the question. He was in a dark blue blazer with tanned khaki pants, black boots, and a white v neck tee shirt that hugged his body; showcasing some muscle. “I’m not sure.”

1859 Milky Way Drive is an isolated acre of woods with a three story, dark blue and brown paneled Victorian gothic styled house coming into view. It had this dark and ominous gleam to it in the dark of the morning light. It was also the place Julian Sweet seemed to live as his hazel brown eyes cut around the three of us. He shrugged, smirking once we all held his gaze.

“You mean to tell us that you live here?” I inquire, eyeing the oak, ivy, and willow trees scattered about. I was mesmerized and confused. I didn’t think any of those trees grew down south, but I was allowed to be wrong.

Julian nods. “I do live in the house my father built. It creaks, groans, and you won’t find a central heat and unit.”

A chill wracked my body at the mere thought. I had grown up without central heat and unit in the fiery depths of Florian. “Of course.”

Victoria parts her lips. “It’s such a beautiful house. Is it just you…if your father is missing?”

Julian sighed. “I might look youthful, but I am of age. Though, I do live with my stoic, sometimes grumpy grandmother. Her name is Betty.”

“Short for Elizabeth?” I’m curious as Julian snorts, shaking his head.

“Nope. Just Betty—her mother didn’t want her to be an Elizabeth or anything short of said name.” Julian softly mumbles, maintaining affection for the elderly woman. “She’s ninety three, unafraid to hurt your feelings. Be prepared to cry when you meet her.”

“She sounds charming.” George sarcastically remarks causing Julian to chuckle.

“Oh, she is. Who do you think you spoke to on the phone? I volunteered to come get you, but she insisted to let you fend for yourself.” Julian explains becoming sheepish as curiosity grew within.

“How did you know where to find us?” I inquire, just as he chooses to clam up, shaking his head.

“I figured you three had to be somewhere close from where George had called.” Julian answered, becoming stoic as once the limo finished pulling up to the front of the house. He slid out of the limo from the other side, seeming to want to already ditch us.

I’m the second one to exit the limo with Tori and George following my lead. Inching closer, the Sweet house is much bigger in person than farther away—when you first glimpse it. “What all do you keep in a house so big?”

“You have the bedrooms, bathrooms, attic, basement, game room, dining room, kitchens, the rather large library and the two living rooms. It’s actually called; the Sweet Hall nor is it actually a Victorian house—just appears as such.” Julian sheepishly explains as my side brushes against him.

“Did you say large library?” Victoria chokes out as something eager rises to life in my sister. Her eyes widen with enthusiasm. Her and I both enjoyed a good book.

“Yep with all the books you can read.” Julian says, shooting us both a wink. He holds out his hand towards the house before leading us up to the front door.

There’s something oddly familiar about the Sweet Hall. I narrow my navy green eyes while Tori and George trail after Julian who stop to make sure we’re all following. There’s something twisted and sinister brewing in the pit of my stomach—I don’t care for the disturbing, gross feeling. “This place is not haunted, right?”

Julian chuckles, inserting a key into the lock of the door before throwing the dark brown oval door wide open. He shakes his head. “Why would my family home be haunted?”

I keep the smart remark that flashes to life in my mind to myself. I don’t want him to think we’re ungrateful for his help. “Just asking.”

Julian casts his hazel brown eyes to me, seizing me up as he sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You have your reasons why you’re asking, but I won’t press you.”

I’m already suspicious of Julian Sweet. Nothing would change my mind about the young man as Victoria clears her throat. I slowly enter the home of the Sweet family, casting my eyes to the sleek marble floors with red carpet running along it. In front of us, there’s a dark brown dining table with a set of roses in a gray and white patterned vase. “Luxurious.”

“My Grandmother spent forever decorating this place. It’s been her baby since she…” Julian shuddered, trailing off once he realized he was about to give us too much information. He points to a set of white marbled stairs with black dots and gold railing. “I’ll show you where you sleep—this place is a place you’ll actually get lost.”

The slam of a door echoing nearby following the clearing of a throat, accompanied by an elderly woman’s voice called out. “Julian, is that you?”

A hunched over woman with short, white hair, wrinkles and pearl green eyes stepped into view. She was in a gray pencil skirt with a pale green top and a dark green cardigan. She smiled at her grandson, pulling him into a brief hug before releasing him.

“Yes, Grandma, I have returned.” Julian said while she turned a sour glance to the three of us.

I lift my hand in the air to wave at the elderly woman, more or less skeptical. “I’m Melanie Reardon. My sister is Victoria and my brother is George.”

Betty Sweet frowned, cutting a glare to her grandson. “How could you invite those abominations into my home?”

“Dad would have wanted to help his family.” Julian speaks just as Betty snorts.

“They’re not even blood relatives.” Betty snarls, disgusted by the three of us.

I cut my navy green eyes to my body—was I too fat or too ugly? Did I have something on me? I had brushed off the dirt from the concrete gifted to me by Officer Brooks.

“Grandma, I’m adopted.” Julian softly informs the woman who shakes her head.

“Still—” Betty opens her mouth to speak when her grandson cuts her off.

“Still, nothing, Grandma. They are my guests and they are in need of my help—now more than ever.” Julian explains, doing his best to reason with the seemingly bitter old woman.

Betty shoots us once last glare. “Fine, fine, fine.”

“Thank you, Grandma.” Julian muses, gently smiling at the woman who turns to wander off. He calls to her before she can leave our view. “I’ll have dinner ready at six. The purple room is where we’ll dine tonight.”

“The purple room?” Victoria is more intrigued by the mention of a purple colored room then I am.

“Technically, it’s the dining room. I just chose to nickname it the Purple Room since the decor is something to be admired.” Julian tells her, nodding towards the stairs. He leads the way, motioning for us to follow.

I’m quiet, because I’m not sure what to say as we follow his lead. I notice there’s a wing for the bedrooms on the second floor; coated in gray. “Are all the bedrooms on the same wing?”

“Corridor, Mel, and yes, they are except for Grandma. She’s on the right hand side corridor with turquoise running rampant. She’s a colorful woman.” Julian has his hands buried in the depths of his pants pockets.

I soak in the information as he stops in front of a lavender door with a gold plaque that reads ‘VICTORIA’ in all capital letters. My mouth opens then closes as Julian smiles, turning to face us once he grips the gold doorknob. “What in the world?”

“My father had these prepped in case the day came that you had to come stay with us until you got back on your feet. First things first—first born. The bedrooms are built the same in different colors and there are plenty of choices in your wardrobes to choose from.” Julian beams, opening the bedroom door, ushering Victoria to enter.

Victoria’s mouth drops when she walks through with excitement flourishing in her heart. “Wow. This is gorgeous—every shade of purple.”

“Vic, I advise you to shower, change your clothes, familiarize yourself with your bedroom. I’ll pop in around seven to pick you for dinner.” Julian informs my sister, shutting the door to her bedroom; leaving George and I with the ever-smirking male.

Julian strode over to the teal green door across from the lavender door. He points to the gold plaque with ‘GEORGE’ written in all capital letters. He twists the gold doorknob, gesturing for my brother to enter; telling him what he just told Victoria. Soon after, he leads me to the end of the corridor—on the right side; same as Victoria’s, pointing at a cherry red door with a silver plaque with my name written in all capital letters on it. “This is your bedroom, Mel.”

I fold my arms to my chest, cutting my eyes from the red door to a navy blue right across from it with the same matching silver plaque and doorknob. “Who is across from me?”

Julian gnaws on his bottom lip, full on smirking before he grips my shoulders. His hazel brown eyes search mine as there’s something unspoken swimming in his eyes. “You were always my father’s favorite.”

Those words sent a chill coursing down my spine. I had no idea what those words meant as I scoffed, trying to shake off his grip. I frown once his hands remained glued to my shoulders; soft, warm, and a little bit electric. “I barely knew my Uncle Matthew.”

Julian removed his hands from my shoulders before caressing my cheek. His touch seemed alarmingly familiar as my jaw became clenched. “You knew him well enough to be his favorite. All in due time, you’ll understand what I mean.”

I can’t listen to Julian Sweet anymore or endure the warmth from his touch. I swat away his hand, shooting him a direct glare. “I’ll be freshening up for dinner.”

“You do that, Mel.” Julian lightly chuckled, wiggling a dark brown eyebrow before venturing off down the hall. He cast his eyes over his shoulder once more to me before I stepped into the overbearing bedroom of cherry red, black, and silver.

I about choked on my own breath from how painful the color was. I flip on an overhead light switch, feeling how surreal it all was. I was in the entrance with a red sofa, a fireplace and a flat screen TV hanging above the wall. I eyed the set of silver double doors that led into the bedroom causing me to roll my eyes. I felt a panic attack stir since the pressure was all too much to take in. I step around the sofa, entering the bedroom, catching sight of an outfit of silver and red laid out on the bed with a note attached.

“If you don’t wear this, you’ll only further curse yourself.” I picked up the note, reading it aloud as my eyebrows pulled together in confusion. I shake my head since nobody signed it. I’m left to frown at the shoulder less, sleeveless, heart shaped, glittery silver dress that fell mid-thigh. I eyed the red leather, go-go boots beside the dress on the floor.

Did somebody think I was a hooker or Taylor Swift? I couldn’t pull off such an ensemble like the blonde bombshell could. I’m about to go in search of another outfit in the brown wardrobe which won’t budge to let me fish for something less revealing. I groan, slamming a hand down on top of the wardrobe, seething at how much pain I caused my hand. I had been given no choice, about to silently question where the undergarments were when I noticed a strapless, red bra with a matching set of panties laid near the dress.

I feel less like a woman—more like a piece of meat who should keep herself covered up. I wasn’t the type to expose myself or my body since men only ever wanted one thing. I wasn’t an attraction to be ogled at, thank you very much. I pick up a vibrant red towel, causing me to wince upon entering the luxurious bathroom with a light gray bathtub of marble separated from the sleek, black shower. I twist my lips as another note is sitting on the gray and white marble sink in front of a long mirror. “Take a steamy bath; save the shower for bedtime, Sweetheart.”

My face flushed as I headed for the shower, once again ignoring the note. I breathed a sigh of relief when I was able to slip into the shower, mixing—warm and cold to get a perfect blend. I eye the strawberry and lavender shampoo, conditioner and body wash as confusion seeps into my pores. Was I the only one of my siblings being bullied at the Sweet Hall?