Even though I came to, I thought I might be dead, waking up in some new reality—in a new life. Vivid flashes from the horror and torment of the night before flooded my mind. Nurse Oleander’s manic expression haunted me.

Attempting to sit up, a lightning bolt of pain surged up my arm, causing me instantly to collapse. Simply moving the fingers of my right arm was agony and I steadily began to feel woozy. Then the memory returned—the memory of trying to push the raging vampire off me, fighting with all my strength until a loud crack rang out and what strength remained was snatched away. My wrist—or my forearm—something was broken.

I cradled my arm to my body, keeping it as straight and motionless as possible. How could I handle getting through this if on the very first night I’d already sustained a broken bone? That didn’t even account for all the other pain throughout my body. My neck was on fire from where Nurse Oleander had bit into me. Strangely enough, I remembered the act itself as being nearly painless—almost euphoric—but the after-effects were anything but.

Sun was flooding into the room since the curtains were still open. It was agony just to open my eyes from the pounding behind them. My caffeine headache was in full force now, and I’d have given anything for a coffee to tame it but didn’t think my stomach would be able to handle my signature white mocha.

God, everything hurts…

I lay in bed a long time, barely able to move. I didn’t hear anything coming from Mallory’s side of the room and it was too much work to position myself in such a way that I could look. It almost seemed better to try to go back to sleep—but that would get me instantly closer to the nighttime, and all this wretchedness would begin again. I wanted to do what I could to keep that at bay as long as possible.

My nightmare seemed to manifest early—while the sun was still high—when the door to our cell opened. A mousy young girl with long brunette hair walked in, pushing a rolling cart with various supplies. She appeared harmless enough, but my heart still hammered in my chest at the mere sight of her entry.

“Who are you?” a familiar voice groaned, telling me Mallory was awake too.

“I’m Kelsey,” the girl said in a soft voice. She immediately approached my bed and closed the curtains, which automatically turned on the room lights. “I’m here to clean up.”

“Got any Vicodin in there?” Mallory coughed, then grunted in pain.

“Not exactly,” Kelsey said. “But I can still help you get rid of the pain. You both don’t look too bad.”

If this was not bad, then I was terrified of what condition she’d consider bad.

“I have on my paperwork that one of you is Fiona and the other Mallory.” Her gaze oscillated between the two of us.

Mallory continued to speak up, addressing her own name, leaving mine to be determined by a process of elimination.

“I understand. The first night’s always hard—I won’t say the hardest, but hard.”

“Whatever,” Mallory said. “Can I get those painkillers now?”

Kelsey walked over to Mallory’s bed, outside of my line of sight. I tried craning my neck to see, but it hurt too much and I gave up the effort.

The room was quiet for a few minutes, but then Kelsey said, “It will take some time to feel better and return to normal, so just rest for now.”

“Yes, doctor,” Mallory said, mockingly.

A moment later, Kelsey was standing over me, looking down with sympathetic green eyes. “Where does it hurt the most?” she asked.

“Is everywhere an appropriate answer?” I asked, trying to laugh, but cringing at the pain it caused instead. “I think my wrist is broken. Is there an actual doctor here who can see me?”

“No need, but I have to make it worse before making it better,” she said, apologetically.

I didn’t have to imagine what she meant by that for too long; she went to her cart, then returned with a scalpel and a towel.

“Please don’t hurt me more,” I whimpered.

“I promise to be quick,” she assured me, sat on the edge of the bed, then gently pulled my injured arm away from my body. “Why don’t you close your eyes.”

I did as I was told, feeling faint solely from the thought of what she was going to do to me. When I felt the blade of the scalpel split the skin of my forearm, I gasped and squeezed my eyes even tighter. I took rapid, deep breaths, feeling the lightheadedness and familiar fog coming for me. But the sharp pain was soon replaced by a cool, soothing sensation.

I reopened my eyes and found Kelsey wrapping my forearm in the towel, then applying light pressure.

“The bleeding will stop within a few minutes,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, the cold sweat that had broken out all over my body beginning to subside. “What can you do for caffeine headaches? Not cut into my head, I hope.”

Kelsey laughed. “I won’t do that, but I think I can provide a little relief.”

She stuck her forefinger in her mouth and bit into it. I cringed at the action, but it didn’t seem to faze her whatsoever. Blood bubbled up from the fresh holes in her skin. She then touched the tip of her finger to my neck, where it was most sore; she seemed to be coating my skin with her blood.

“As I mentioned to Mallory, the healing will take a little while since I’m not fully transitioned yet, but you should at least start to feel better real soon.”

“So, you’re one of the born vampires?” I asked.

“No; I’m actually a made vampire,” Kelsey said. “I was accidentally turned when I was thirteen, and vampires so young go through the similar stages of born vampires—continuing to grow and age until we reach full maturity, somewhere between nineteen and twenty-two.”

“How is someone accidentally turned?” Mallory asked from her bed. “I’ve never heard that before.”

“Okay, well he meant to turn me; he just didn’t understand what would happen. My maker must have been a pedophile in his previous life because he turned me with the expectation I’d remain a thirteen-year-old forever. He was never told how vampirism really works, and I got to pay the price.”

“That sucks,” I said. “How old are you now?”

“Fifteen.”

I started to feel bad for how much this girl had been through at such a young age, hoping whoever found her and brought her here had killed the monster who made her.

I lay still as she continued to work and did notice that within a few minutes the sharp pains reduced to dullness. Once I realized this, I attempted moving the fingers on my right arm. The movements still hurt, but nothing like they had before.

“There,” Kelsey said. “You should be feeling better soon.” She stood and sucked on the tips of her fingers, all of them now bloody.

I brought a hand to my face and brushed a finger down my cheek. I could still feel the scars that had haunted my reflection for as long as I could remember, knowing it was only one of many. Kelsey noticed my questioning look.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “My blood won’t heal your scars. Those wounds have already healed and left their marks. I can only heal ones still in the process of healing.”

“I’d figured it was too much to ask for, so I didn’t even want to.” I said, sadly.

“Even vampires have their limits,” Mallory said.

“The only way to get rid of those is to become a vampire yourself,” Kelsey said. “The transformation would reset your whole body.”

“That doesn’t seem worth the tradeoff,” I said, then saw a sinking expression on Kelsey’s face. “I didn’t mean… I’m not saying… I’m sorry.”

“Nice,” Mallory said. “And you keep saying I’m a bitch.”

Kelsey turned her attention away from me and back to her assigned duties as an orderly, losing the personal connection we seemed to have been forming. “The floor looks good. Would either of you like your bedsheets changed?”

“That would be amazing,” Mallory said. “I can still smell that bitch on mine.”

Kelsey dutifully changed the linens on Mallory’s bed while she leaned against the wall by the door, watching. When Kelsey asked to change my own sheets, I tested to see if I could sit up. I was amazed at how much better I felt, from my previously broken arm to my nearly unnoticeable headache. Once I was successfully sitting, I attempted to stand, which also came easier than I would have expected. So, I stepped aside and let Kelsey finish her work. I apologized again for offending her, but Kelsey simply shrugged and continued what she was doing.

When she was done, she produced clean hospital scrubs for each of us and led the way to the showers. All the toiletries we needed were stocked and available. The showers were in private, individual stalls, and it felt so good to wash away all the visual reminders of the night before.