Weather—partly cloudy
I’m in the kitchen and trying to enjoy my tea, but Cyrus is here with David and the TV is so loud the cottage is rattling like a movie theater. Christ. It’s making my head pound and I’m two rooms over.
I need to be careful of the time. The last thing I need is Cy’s mum breathing down my neck because I’ve let him stay too long into the evening. Haughty judgment, like, “I’m not sure how you raise yooour kid, but as for mine, he needs to be home before dark.”
Piss off, lady. Ever think that your son is over here all the time because it’s a much happier household? I wish I could say that to her. Matter of fact, I should. Stuffy little twit. Her husband is even worse, like a dyspeptic badger.
November 10
Weather—light snow
The school requested that I take leave today, and I’m gutted. The headmaster said I need to focus on my health, that I’m too pale and take too many breaks—that I shuffle to the loo too often. I can’t believe this. All the work I’ve put in there since we moved here, and the kids love me. God, this is so frustrating. I feel like a prisoner in my own damn body.
Jae-Hwa let me try last week… to drink his blood. We kept the process clean and simple—a shallow cut to his finger and I licked the wound. It wasn’t awful, but it’s not really helping. We did it twice but nothing’s changed. I’m still this weird gray color and the dreams haven’t stopped. I don’t know if I need to drink more, or if I should try with something else? Maybe a cat or a dog? God, I have no idea.
Jae-Hwa asked me if he tasted nice, and I said he tasted just alright. He said he was hoping I’d say he tasted like flavored soju or maesil, since I loved those things so much back when we were in Korea teaching together. I said no, sorry, you don’t taste like delicious plum juice and alcohol. We had a good laugh about that.
It was nice. I can’t remember the last time we laughed together. Everything feels so serious lately.
November 15
Weather—sunny
My son is beautiful. I watched him clean the snow from the lane up to the house with Jae-Hwa today. I stood in the kitchen, looking through the window. I swear the sun almost made him glow. Jae-Hwa doesn’t like it when I tell David he’s beautiful—even though he’s always been. He discouraged me from telling him when he was a baby, saying he didn’t want a son with a massive ego. I’d still whisper it to him when I was rocking him to sleep though. All the time. He’s fifteen now, and he’s still stunning and bright with this luscious head of ombre blonde hair. He’s got lovely, clear skin that reminds me of French vanilla ice cream (my favorite) and eyes like swirls of caramel. And he’s funny and sweet. I really lucked out with this kid.
Cy’s mum came inside yesterday when she picked him up. She brought a big pot of osaman dal for us with fresh naan. I was shocked. What’s more, she sat with me and asked how I was feeling, then told me she was sorry that I was too sick to attend school.
While David and Cy were still watching TV, she told me she and her husband are worried Cyrus might be gay. She asked if I’d noticed anything about David. Honestly, I have no clue. I’m much more concerned with whether or not he’s going to survive and stay healthy, and if this sickness I have is hereditary. I’m not at all fussed about his sexual preferences—and that is most certainly his business. I told her as much. She nodded curtly, stood and called Cy to go home. That seemed to be the end of our sharing time.
I thanked her for the food. I still think she’s a snobby twit.
November 30
Weather—snowy
I’ve tried pig’s blood, chicken’s blood and cow’s blood. All of which have made me vomit. I tried having more of Jae-Hwa. That doesn’t make me vomit, but it doesn’t ease the aches or stop the bad dreams and tremors. It does nothing, and I feel myself declining, fast. It’s hard to get out of bed lately. David is tiptoeing around me now like I’m some fragile little bird. I’ve always been, but at least I could move about, travel and manage it. Take care of myself. I fell down the other day and I think I scared him. My poor baby.
I’m grateful he seems healthy. Whatever this thing is that I’m dealing with… it doesn’t seem to have transferred to him. By the time I was his age, I was already having issues—visiting doctor after doctor with my foster parents and trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. The doctors didn’t know then, and they still don’t know.
What should I try? Who can help me? It feels like my body is rejecting and turning in on itself. Because of the nightmares, I keep thinking that maybe I’m something else. Or there’s something inside me. I don’t know how to give it what it wants, so it’s slowly destroying me.
January 15
Weather—cold
December was awful. Today is the first day in weeks that I am out of bed, and I probably shouldn’t be.
Now that Christmas is over, Jae-Hwa is at work again, so only David is here with me. He can’t be overbearing and boss me about like his father, so I’m taking my tea in the kitchen. He’s cooking for me, and it smells divine.
Secretly, he’s a better cook than Jae-Hwa. Jae’s pajeon is always a bit thick and too heavy, but David always gets it perfectly light and crispy around the edges. The room is warm. It smells like sesame seed oil and some delicious restaurant his father and I frequented in Seoul.
I wish I could have taken him there on a family holiday, and I’d show him the university where I met his father. I wish Jae-Hwa’s family were more supportive of us, so David could meet them and know he has more family than just his father and me. I wish my body could have managed more children, so at least he’d have siblings to lean on and support him through this. I wish he didn’t have to be so independent and adult-like while he’s still just a teenager. I wish I’d told Jae-Hwa to stuff it and let David know how beautiful he is every day, because he seems to have no clue.
I’ll tell him. As much as possible while I still can. I’ll make sure he knows.
March
Forty
Jae
“Doctor Davies, you look different.” Yukiko leans so that her forehead and eyebrows take up the entire computer screen. It’s awkward. We’re on a video call, but I lean back on instinct.
“Like… prettier,” she goes on. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”
I am not wearing eyeliner. “Yukiko, this check-in is about you. Let’s try to focus?”
“When are you coming back? It’s been four months already!” She sits away from the screen. She’s in her bedroom, which is also uncomfortable. I’ve asked that her parents set up these calls in the kitchen or some other common area within their home. But apparently her mother is having tea with friends. I can see a large glam rock poster of Hisaki-chan over her shoulder, taped to the wall. It triggers me slightly, giving me flashbacks of black licorice and angry, hissing, cat-like vampires.
Redirecting the conversation, I clasp my palms and lean on the desk with my elbows. “How was the outing with Vampire Teens United? You went to the movies, right?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t bad. Some of the kids were nice. One guy was pretty cute. Whatever. I didn’t hate it.”
I smile. For Yukiko, that’s a rave review. “Excellent. Will you join the next outing? What is it?”
She shrugs. “One of the girls wants to have a thing at her house. I might go. I don’t know. It’s whatever.”
Now I’m nervous. I’m the doctor, but something parental springs to life in me. “That sounds wonderful, but remember, only feed from the bags we assign you at the hospital. Your nature is still stabilizing and we don’t want you feeding from a person whose blood we know nothing about. Remember, your body isn’t like a full vampire’s, and you’re still susceptible to blood disorders and diseases.”
