Sunny at night

Dead to the world.

She hated how people used that phrase. Smug bastards, bragging about their good night’s sleep. They had no idea what that phrase truly meant. She did though, in every possible sense of the word. From sunset to sunrise she was always wide awake. There were no more good night sleeps for her. And when the sun rose-- well that was when she was truly dead to the world. Unconscious, unaware, just a lump of undead flesh. So even though her definition of death altered with the location of the sun, she was always somehow dead to the world.

She hadn’t wanted this. An ill-timed walk home from the local pub had resulted in the fatal bite. Or at least it should have been fatal. However, the bastard who bit her, had also inadvertently turned her. It had taken her two days to figure it all out. She had staggered home, bleeding and light headed; fallen into bed, only to awaken the following night with a headache and a desire for some blood pudding. She spent the next hours defrosting all the steak in her freezer and licking the juices. At day break, she collapsed on the floor of her apartment and awoke at sunset with the same hunger. She initially attributed collapse and the new dietary cravings to the stress of the attack, but then she caught and cut her tongue three times on her teeth. A quick look in the mirror revealed her striking change in dentition. She stared at her brand new fangs and swore. She, Sunny, was now a vampire. What a freaking disaster. Even worse, what a colossal literary joke.

Slowly, over the course of the next few months she taught herself survival skills. Once she got over the ick of slurping fresh blood, she started frequenting bars and taking light sips from inebriated patrons. Not too much—no draining, no killing and no turning of others. That was her mantra. She would not do to someone else what had been done to her. She had standards after all, and becoming a vampire was no excuse for loss of moral rectitude. Bottom line, the experience of learning to suck, sucked.

Of course Dead Beat Dad had been no help. That’s how she thought of her maker. A guy who skipped out on his obligations to his progeny. Being unaware of the problem was no excuse. If living men were expected to be responsible of their ejaculatory emissions, then the undead should be expected to take responsibility for the results of their bites. But there you have it, men both alive and dead could be counted on to do the deed and skip out on the consequences.

The sun had fully set and Sunny started to get ready for her night. Looking around her room, she opened the blackout curtains, lifted the roll down shutters and looked out. Shoulders slumped, she sighed. She missed her friends. Slowly, they had drifted away. At the beginning she tried making evening plans with them, but it was hard to relax and hang when everyone looked like a main course. She was unable to answer their calls during the day and obviously could not share food with them. There had been increasing off handed comments about aloofness, anorexia and recommendations for therapy. Finally, it had been easier to let them go than to try and pretend. She didn't just miss the camaraderie of friends, she missed everything about the daytime hours. She missed the colours, the bird song, the warmth of a sunny day. She missed the beach, the sun on the waves and the cry of the gulls. It felt like everything in her life was now a study of grey and black. Eternally young but dark, dull and lonely. She wasn't sure if the trade off was worth it

She shook herself and headed out. She was wallowing and that wouldn’t do. A walk was in order. Somewhere bright and loud and joyful to help combat the doldrums. The outdoor Christmas market had just opened so she headed there. Crowds and chaos would be good for her mood and for her hunt. She sat down at the picnic tables of a popular food stand. Amid the Christmas lights and music, the fidgeting kids waiting for Santa’s lap and the happy couples picking out tree ornaments, she started to scope out her meal.

“Would you mind if I shared your table?”

She looked up and nodded to the man holding a large plate of BBQ. Sometimes you had to seek out the meal, sometimes the meal came to you. It was time to chat and charm and eventually suggest a walk around to a more secluded section of the grounds. Introducing herself, she scooted over to make room for him. She heard a snort from the table behind her, and suddenly BBQ man was pushed aside and a 30-something year old guy slid into the seat beside her. BBQ man stumbled, but valiantly rallied, hanging on to his plate and managing to keep all its contents in place. He stomped off grumbling about entitlement and rudeness

She glared at the intruder who had scared away her prospective meal. Her new table companion was still laughing

“A vampire named Sunny? Seriously? Were you born with that name or is it just an attempt at misdirection? “

Sunny froze.

“Who the hell are you?”

“You should have gone with something a little more subtle. Ray perhaps, for little ray of sunshine”

Nostrils flared, Sunny searched but couldn’t detect the earthy, iron smell of blood. Staring at his neck, she couldn’t see or hear the pulsation of his jugular.

Barely whispering, “ What are you?” she repeated.

“C’mon darling, you know exactly what I am”

He took in her wide eyed panicky stare and stopped smiling

" I can’t be the first vampire you’ve met?”

She nodded silently

He frowned

“What about your maker? Didn’t he tutor you through the change?”

“He dined and dashed”

He cocked his head and his gaze looked her over thoroughly. She couldn’t get a read on his mood. She was used to listening to skipping heartbeats and smelling for changes in blood and sweat. He was a black hole to her senses. Was he angry, was he a threat, was she in danger? The need to get away, to get somewhere safe took over. She stood quickly and extricated herself from the picnic table. She heard him speak softly as she hastened away

“ I am sorry this happened to you. No one should be left so utterly alone”

Over the next few months, she would see him sporadically during her night outings. Always at a distance, always acknowledging her with a nod before going on his way. He didn’t interfere with her hunts and never followed her. It unnerved her, and she would hurry home shakily to her roll down shutters and blackout drapes. Slowly, with time, she came to anticipate these sightings. A small regular familiarity that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. One night, rather than hurrying away, she turned towards him and nodded back. He watched her for a while and smiled before moving away. The next night, when she stopped and turned towards him again he came towards her and extended his arm. And just like that she found herself walking down the street hand in hand, silently, companionably.

Over the course of the next year, they continued to meet more purposely. They , hunted, shared confidences. Slowly the anger and mourning of things lost was replaced by ease and comfort. He told her these were dinner dates, which both puzzled and strangely pleased her. One night, he drove her to a secluded beach and convinced her to dive into the waters with him. There, under the moonlight, she watched with amazement as the bioluminescent algae turned the water around them phosphorescent blue and green. And in the midst of that gift of sea sparkle, she turned and kissed him.

She brought him back to her house She rolled down the shutters and drew closed the blackout drapes. She pulled him into her bed, and before the rising sun took them both, she made sure she thanked him properly for the dinner date and for the wonder of light and colour. When she awoke from her daylight death, it was to find herself still holding his hand. He opened his eyes, looked at her and whispered

“ Such luck to have my own personal sunshine in the night”

She smiled back and moved closer to him, wrapping his arm around her. Perhaps dead to the world wasn’t so bad after all.