A Dead Life (7)

It has been exactly one week I have been in the healing center, slurping on blood and trying to stay strong for my baby. Tony has never left my side once, not even to go hunting. He looks pale and fragile but he says he’s okay, that he’s strong enough for now and if the urge get unbearable for blood he’ll find some. I know he’s lying, trying to be strong, but I don’t push it afraid he will leave me- I know it sounds selfish, but what if he leaves and never comes back, I’ll be alone, no we’ll be alone, and the very though chills me right to the core. I feel a cold wet cloth touch my face, breaking my thoughts in a single moment. The cloth drags across my skin leaving wet lines to rest on my waxy flesh. Just then my eyes flash open as a terrible pain rips through my flesh, I groan in agony, and curl up in a tight ball. Sweat rolls across the wet lines on my skin, blazing hot instead of the once cool touch. Soft hands run through my hair whispering soothing words in an old rhythmic language I have never heard of before, and as the words escape the mouth and roll of the tongue the pain melts just as quickly as it came leaving me in peace for just a little while, enough to drift off into oblivion….