I Hate Valentine’s Day (A Short Vampire Story)

Short Story Sunday Monday Tuesday:
I Hate Valentine’s Day

“I shouldn’t be alone today,” thought young Randy as he sat brooding on a rock, on the beach at 5:30 a.m. on Valentine’s Day. His heart was broken. The girl, a Vampire girl he knew he was going to fall in love with had given her heart to another and left him in the dreaded friend zone.

And it wasn’t as if she’d left him, or chosen another college student. Sure the guy she’d fallen for looked like he was twenty-one but he was born in freaking 1902. What did girls see in these older guys?

He was jolted from his thoughts by a “Hi. You’re Randy, aren’t you?”

A dark haired girl in a short black skirt and a long black jacket stood in front of him. “I’m Alexis. I’m in your Organic Chemistry class. I’m a Vampire, but you knew that. I know you are too. Small world.”

“Oh, right. Sure. Hi. Have a seat,” said Randy, glad for the company now.

“I hate Valentine’s Day,” said Alexis.

“Why do you hate it?”

She sat down on rock next to him. “My parents were borderline Shadow Creepers, you know old time Vampires who stayed in the dark most of the time. Nobody knew we were Vampires, but everybody including the other school parents thought my parents were weird. I got picked on a lot at school. I was like quiet and small. I didn’t know how to stand up for myself. I didn’t dare try any of my Vampire stuff on anyone. I was afraid if anyone found out they’d kill my family. Anyway, every Valentine’s Day we’d have to make stupid boxes and bring Valentines. I always made something pretty with roses and flowers and stuff, all pink and nice. I always make a beautiful box, and make everyone pretty Valentines by hand, but I never got any Valentines. Maybe from one of the girls who felt sorry for me. Everyone had full boxes except me. The kids all started to laugh at me. I wanted to rip their throats out but I couldn’t. You know, Vampire code.”

“Sure, don’t show them what you are, no matter what. Did your mom and dad know?”

“I never told them anything. We didn’t talk much at home. But I got my revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“I told the teacher I had to go the bathroom. Of course the boys started to make jokes about how I’d stink the school up. They were mean like that. Always. It never stopped. So like, the teacher said someone had to go with me to make sure I wouldn’t spend too much time in there, cause sometimes I’d just go there to get away from it all. She said that Ashley should go with me. Ashley was the most popular girl.

Ashley started to pout and complain. So a girl called Emma volunteered. Emma was the only kid who gave me a Valentine. She was kind of overweight and sometimes the other kids would say mean things to her too, but she was the smartest kid in the class so they didn’t say too much.

When we got out of the classroom Emma said she knew I didn’t need to go to the bathroom. We walked around for a bit, then went back to the classroom. But we didn’t go in.

“You can make them pay for what they did. I’ll help you,” said Emma. “I’m a witch. I know what you are.” Then she smiled in a way that even scared me.

We didn’t go back in the classroom. The door locked with a loud click. Emma just smiled. The room filled with smoke. The other kids started to scream. They couldn’t get out. Everyone started to claw at their faces and arms. That is except the teacher who kept trying to open the door. We ran to the office to get help. You know, we had to keep up appearances.

By the time the fire department go there and knocked down the door, the smoke at gone away, but the smell of sulphur was still in the room. Some of the kids had clawed out their eyes and made huge gashes in their faces and arms.

Then Emma whispered in my ear, “they’ll never call you ugly again.”

Hey, even I was shocked. I never did a thing. It was all her. Both of us ended up going to another school. In high school I made a lot of friends. They all thought my parents were cool Goths. The rest of the kids are still all scarred and screwed up.”

Randy looked at her feeling sort of numb. “Where is Emma now?”

“She got into swimming. Lost a lot of weight. Turned blonde. She’s at UCLA now. So Randy, why don’t you like Valentine’s day?”

“A girl I liked started seeing another guy.”

“Bummer. Sorry to hear that.”

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the waves. Randy didn’t know what to say. He and his best friend had been the two most popular boys at their high school. Their lives had been happy and relatively care free. Their parents were modern Vampire in every way possible.

Alexis bumped her shoulder gently against Randy’s. “I hope you don’t think I’m weird.”

“No. Well, maybe just a little.”

“Looks like the storm is coming in. Wanna get coffee? No pressure. It’s not like I want to be your girlfriend or anything like that. Just you know, like just a couple of Vampire friends.”

“Sure,” said Randy.

As they walked up to the street he put on his sunglasses against the morning sun. Well, stranger things had happened.

~ End

Happy Valentine’s Day,

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Why is behavior that is illegal in the workplace accepted as normal in our High School? OR POLITICS?

In 2015 I wrote a post about the racist and sexist behavior at school. As parents I hope all of us are raising our sons and daughters that both racist and sexist behavior is not acceptable.

In light of current events in the news I have to bring this up again.

Behavior that is unacceptable in school, the workplace, or our homes should not be acceptable from our politicians or those running for office.

This article isn’t about politics so I WILL remove comments if I have to. It is about society and what kind of people we want to represent us.

We’ve all known that guy who talks sexist talk 24/7. Nobody like to be around him. Nobody thinks it is funny. 99.9% of the time he is a bully. There is something wrong with him. But because he is a bully people let him get away with it. It is sick. It is wrong. It is disgusting. It shows lack of character. It shows someone who is seriously broken.

In the Paranormal world this kind of shit would end with a blood bath – the bully would be gone. Women and the men who love them would be celebrating. Unfortunately not all of my readers live in a paranormal world.

So read my old article. I have to note that as the kids at my daughter’s school mature that most of the sexist and racist behavior goes away. It is sad to think that some people never grow up.

______________________________________

Below is the original article from 2015.

Dear High School Vice Principal: Why is behavior that is illegal in the workplace accepted as normal in our High School?

JANUARY 10, 2015 BY JULIETTE KINGS

Dear VP,

This is a partial post of what I’m going to be sending to you next week. I’m just using my blog to hash out the ideas.

On Friday I picked my daughter up from school but before she found my car I received a text that said, “I’m going to choke someone.”

Since the first day of High School my daughter and her friends have been complaining about the behavior of other kids in the school.

These are smart, normal, nice kids. They don’t fit into any categories. They’re just teens. In their core group the kids are White (6), Black (1), Mixed Race (2) and Asian (1). There are 4 boys and 6 girls in the group. Eight are straight, two are gay. They don’t care what anyone looks like or their ethnic background or who they will one day fall in love with.

They tell me tell me that the kids in the school are above all things sexist and disgusting. They tell me that kids are racists. They tell me that they will attack anyone who is different.

African American kids are subjected to comments like:

Why are you acting so white?
Why don’t you have black friends?
You don’t talk black?
One girl mentioned to my daughter that should wished she was in a different school where she could be wouldn’t be treated like she is different. She thought her school would be different but she was wrong.

Then the SAME white boys who criticize the black kids spend all of their time talking “ghetto talk.” And it is bad. Every other word is the N word, the C word, or the F word. You know what those words are.

My daughter called one of the boys out on in during PE on Friday. She asked him why he was talking like that. She told him he sounded like a 5th grader trying to be tough. She shut him down for a bit, but he’ll be back doing the same stupid stuff on Monday.

In every context and situation groups of boys constantly use the N word, the C word and the F word. This is both in and out of class. This disgusts my daughter.

My daughter is also shocked at all of the kids who hassle the Mormon teachers and students with rude and ignorant remarks. I found this surprising considering the large Mormon population at the school. Fair Oaks and Orangevale have HUGE Mormon populations so this baffles me. My family is not religious at all but I would never consider it acceptable for my child to hassle someone because of their faith.

On the other hand my daughter also told me that kids from one of the “religious clubs” tore down posters the Horror Club put up. Excuse me? That is also WRONG in every way. It is pure ignorance. Rather than finding out what the Horror Club is about the bigots from the religious club assumed they were worshiping the Devil. Excuse me but most horror novels, including this of Stephen King have a very strong good and evil focus. Good usually wins out in some sort or the other.

The real horror at the school is the bigotry, the sexist attitudes and the intolerance.

If a student, especially a male student, looks remotely Middle Eastern other kids will call him a terrorist. It doesn’t matter that he is Jewish and 4th generation American. He is still called a terrorist. Even when the Jewish kid defends himself, tries to ignore the other kids and tells them to stop it – they idiots still scream terrorist. Did you know about this?

The sexist attitudes at our high school are famous all over the school district. Kids from all school say it is the worst at our school. From the first day at school to the day they graduate girls are subjected to sexual comments. I’m not talking about a “hey baby.” These are explicit comments and suggestions. By the time a girl graduates she has received more penis selfies than she can count. And it never stops. It is all boys talk about.

Girls are constantly subjected to guys openly talking about sex, how many girls they have sex with, blow jobs, requests for blog jobs, requests for anal sex, requests to see tits, and all things related to those things. These boys don’t care who hears them.

The sad thing is the fact that a lot of kids think this is not only normal but acceptable.

My daughter complains how disgusting it is. She wonders why the worst offenders are always put in class together (her classes.) She wonders why they are so disgusting and stupid and why people put up with it.

My child isn’t some shocked little innocent. She knows there is a big wide world out there. But for heaven’s sake, what happened to manners?

I grew up seeing bigots who spewed hate with no thought about what they were doing.  I made a choice not to raise my child around such attitudes so you can imagine how shocked and disgusted and disappointed I am to hear about this. It happens EVERY SINGLE DAY. I’m not talking a bout isolated incidents but something that happens every single period of every single day plus in the hallways. It never stops.

Boys who hang out with girls or dress nice are called fags. Wait…if a boy hangs out with pretty girls that used to be considered pretty lucky.

From day one there have been complaints about sexist boys.

So, I have one question for you Mr. VP…

Why is behavior that is illegal in the workplace accepted as normal in High School?

Let me ask again. Why is behavior that is illegal in the workplace accepted as normal in the High School?

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

A short essay on bullies

Think of all the time and energy bullies spend being obsessed with their victims. Think of all of the energy of that hate that could be channeled into something positive. Anything really, other than being obsessed with someone they deemed weaker, weirder, stupider, fatter, smaller, or just different in some way. Usually there isn’t a reason why a child is bullied. It is usually just a random act that builds into sort of a self-serving cult.

If you’ve been bullied just think of what an idiot the kids was who bullied you was. No doubt he or she still is. I doubt if they’ll even remember what they did. If they do they won’t feel bad about it. They’ll still blame you for their failures especially if you’re a success. Even if you aren’t. Their own self loathing is masked with self-indulgent feelings of superiority and then helplessness.

They’re nothing but defective worms. They are to be pitied. Then again, don’t waste your pity on them. Don’t carry the burdens of their actions with you. It hurt. It was wrong. It was wrong for adults to let it happen. But it is time for you to move on. You aren’t the asshole. The bullies don’t matter. They were the ones who spent the time to be obsessed by you, like evil perverse demonic fans. It was their loss, not yours.

And most of them, the bullies, have assholes for parents. Think about it.

You aren’t the asshole. Believe me on this one.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

fart joke

Short Story Sunday: Trifecta on Bullies, Slut-Shamers and Bad Dogs.

A while back I wrote a story about a guy running into a bully from his past. Then I wrote another story about slut shaming. Today is the third story about a bad dog. You might have seen the first two already but they are worth reading again. The dog story is new. All three stories are about individuals we just don’t want to be around because it is NEVER a winning situation.

The Bully

Sunday mornings on the deck with coffee, a cat purring in my lap, a dog at my feet and my beautiful family still asleep upstairs equals something good. It is all good.

Of course it wasn’t always that way. I think of my kids. I’ve done a lot to make sure they’re strong and secure. I make sure they’re not open to con artists and bullies. I made sure that they learned to stand up for the weak and those who are different.

So why am I musing on such lofty parenting goals? It is because their witty, confident, successful and good looking dad was once the kid who went to school in fear each day because of bullies. Nobody thought anything of bullies back then, when I was a kid. It was part of the school culture. But you know, even as a kid I knew it was wrong and one day it would be over.

It was over for me by the time I was 13. I went to high school and reinvented myself into a funny smart semi-popular kid.

My mind went back to fifth grade – in particular to one kid. Ronnie Martin was the personification of a bully. He was Goofus in Highlights Magazine. He was a sadistic little shit who never let down on reminding me that I was smaller and weaker than he was. Ronnie amassed an army of schoolyard thugs up against me. I was taunted, tripped, lied about, and shunned by other kids. I never knew why his one goal in life was to make my life a living Hell.

Once we got to high school nobody would put us with his bullshit. He faded into the background of kids nobody sees. I was free.

So what brought these memories back on a beautiful Sunday morning?

Last Friday on the way home my 15 year old son and I stopped by the hardware store to pick up some supplies for a leaking faucet. I still had on my suit (important meeting at the Capitol that day) sans the jacket. My son had on a band shirt and skinny jeans (no sagging mind you.) We were a typical father and son – only my son was an inch taller than me. When did that tiny six pound baby grow to be six feet tall?

I’d sent Tristan off to find a new front doormat while I went through the thirty thousand small bins of washers.

Standing in isle 34 I heard a voice that made me go cold.

“Here kitty kitty.”

In fronting of me was Ronnie Martin. He was older and larger than I remembered. The last time I remember seeing him was 45 years ago in Freshman English class when a couple of popular kids told him nobody put up with bullies in our high school and that they liked me. Now here Ronnie was a big slob with a gray ponytail, bad ink on his arms and a shit eating grin on his face.

I had the misfortune to be named Bartholomew. My mother called me by my full name. I went by Bart. Ronnie picked up on the mew.

Back in elementary school Ronnie and his minions would follow me making pathetic mewing noises and yelling “here kitty kitty.” Someone once filled my desk with cat litter. Ronnie told the teacher I’d done it to get out of work. She believed him. I had to clean it up and was sent to the office where the principal lectured me on my bad behavior. Such was my life for the next three years.

Ronnie made sure I was always picked last on teams and that I never had a place to sit on the bus. Now I look back on it I realize that I was his obsession. It just seems so sick and twisted now.

The bully looked me up and down in isle 34 like some creeper looking at a pretty girl in short skirt. “So I hear you’re some sort of big shot. What are you the gay secretary?”

He knew I owned a successful advertising and PR agency. He must have known.

Tristan came up with a doormat looking curious at the big rough looking Buba blocking my way.

I tried to pass and Ronnie blocked me. I looked him in the eye. “The fact that you bullied me does not define me. The fact that you are a bully defines you and will always define you.”

“You’re still a pussy Bart. You’ll always be a pussy.”

I said nothing but I knew he’d always be an asshole.

Putting my arm around Tristan I headed for the check out.

“What was that about Dad?” My son gave me one of those amused WTF looks.

“Just some loser I knew in elementary school.”

Tristan started to laugh in that way teen boys laugh. I had to laugh too.

__________________________

Slut

College is starting soon. One of the big things everyone is talking about is sexual assault on campus or in college towns. I’ve talked about it with my two kids who are in college. Everyone has, at least everyone who is a decent parent.

So I get this call from Hodge Williams. Yes, that Hodge Williams. Everyone remembers him.

“Bart, how are you?” As soon as he spoke I wondered what he wanted.

“Hodge. Fine. Great. Life is good. What’s up?”

“I’m writing a story on the history of sexual harassment and violence at universities in the US. I tried to contact your sister but she wouldn’t return my calls.”

“Beth?”

“Yes, Beth. She kind of got around so I was thinking she might have experienced first hand, you know, she was at risk.”

“What do you mean by at risk?”

“Oh come on, your sister was a slut. Everyone knew it.”

I sat there with the phone a bit stunned. He just called my sister a slut.

“Hodge, you’re an asshole. In fact you’ve always been an asshole.” I hung up the phone. What an asshole.

After sitting for a few minutes and collecting my thoughts I called my sister and told her about the conversation.

“What an asshole,” she said. “Sure I was sleeping with his best friend without the benefit of being his best friend’s official girlfriend. OK I also slept with another one of his friends but we were in college. We were young.”

“Did you ever sleep with Hodge?”

“No. Hell no. He was always making passes at me and grabbing me. Hodges had that Madonna/Whore things going on in his head. A girl was either a virgin until marriage or a whore. Plus we’re not like him, you know the religion thing, so he just assumed I was a whore.”

“But you didn’t have sex with him.”

“I know. That makes me a whore. He called any girl who wouldn’t have sex with him a whore.”

“What an asshole.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. I mean, if the guy had asked me to go see a movie or go for a walk or just spent time talking that would have been different but he was just all over me like…yuck. He really called you? I can’t believe he’d have the gall to do that. Asshole.”

After we got off the phone with the promise of a lunch date later in the week I got to thinking about my own kids.

I’d spoken with both my daughter and son about sexual predators. I’ve done the best to teach them not to be bully bait. I’ve taught them to stand up for themselves and for others.

From experience I knew that bullies never grow up and most don’t change.

Hodge never got the answer he wanted. Over the years Beth had a few close calls with sexual predators but she always ended up safe either by being with friends or using physical force to get out of it (exactly twice as she told me.) That didn’t include unwanted advances by guys like Hodge. And even though Hodge didn’t use force it still hurt emotionally that he’d think so little of her or of any girl.

I wanted to pound the crap out of him. Then I thought about how many other women out there who thought the guy was an asshole. That made me smile. Spread the word ladies, spread the word.

That evening after work I talked to my wife about it. She shook her head and said she’d had similar experiences. More anger surged through my brain, then sadness deep in my soul.

We all judge others. We all make assumptions. We all call names even if it isn’t out loud. We all talk behind the backs of others. Maybe we need to stop. It isn’t easy. It isn’t even practical.

Anyway, if you see Hodge Williams call him and an asshole and tell him that Beth and Bart say hello.

___________________________________

Bad Buddy

When Uncle Bill passed away he left a dog.

Bill wasn’t really my uncle, just a close family friend, but we were like family, sort of. You know, the kind of family you aren’t born into – the kind of family that just happens.

Buddy the dog was going to the pound and more than likely straight to death row.

He was an obnoxious black and white bastard – half Lab and half Satan’s spawn.

So stupid me. Of course I volunteered to bring the dog home, to my family no less. I love my family. I don’t know what I was thinking.

The first thing Buddy did when we arrived home was growl at my wife, pee on the living room chair, try to attack my dog Rosie and then eat our two cats. Putting Buddy outside didn’t help. He started to bark nonstop then proceeded to dig holes and destroy the outdoor furniture, sprinkler system and knocked down the gate to the vegetable garden.

“He has to go,” said my wife.

I asked for another chance. Lucky me. The next morning he grabbed my trousers and ripped them half off of my leg. Hugo Boss no less. It was one of my favorite suits.

My son had a the bright idea of taking him to dog school with the park and recreation. Buddy attacked every dog there then tried to bite the class leader.

My sister called me and asked about Buddy. “Remember the time he killed Bill’s cats? Why the crap did you take him in.”

That night I looked at Buddy straight in the eyes. “What the crap is wrong with you Buddy?”

He growled at me then tucked his tail and scratched at the door to go out.

“That dog is too miserable to live,” said my wife.

“I agree with mom,” said our teenage son.

Buddy stood outside watching us through the sliding glass door and barking as if he wanted to kill us.

The next day I got a call from Uncle Bill’s girlfriend Vera. She’d been in Alaska when Bill died and just got home. She said she’d take Buddy. I was glad to see Vera leaving in her truck with Buddy crated and barking in the back. Off they went to her ranch outside of Reno. Buddy would have room to run and with any luck be eaten by coyotes.

A couple of months later I received an email from Vera. Attached were photos of Buddy being the almost perfect dog. Vera said Buddy was like Uncle Bill. He needed his solitude and room to run. After being kicked by a cow the dog calmed down a bit. Vera said Buddy was almost normal now, then she laughed and said the cow had kicked some sense into him.

I still hate that dog and don’t plan on visiting Vera anytime soon. I guess Buddy makes her think of Bill, though Bill was a sweetheart. I’m sure he took in the damaged dog due to his soft heart. My heart isn’t that soft. But I wonder what sort of abuse that poor dog endured to make him that way. Or maybe he was just born mean. Buddy isn’t going to tell me so I guess I’ll never know.

~ End

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Tangled Tales

Short Story Sunday: Slut

College is starting soon. One of the big things everyone is talking about is sexual assault on campus or in college towns. I’ve talked about it with my two kids who are in college. Everyone has, at least everyone who is a decent parent.

So I get this call from Hodge Williams. Yes, that Hodge Williams. Everyone remembers him.

“Bart, how are you?” As soon as he spoke I wondered what he wanted.

“Hodge. Fine. Great. Life is good. What’s up?”

“I’m writing a story on the history of sexual harassment and violence at universities in the US. I tried to contact your sister but she wouldn’t return my calls.”

“Beth?”

“Yes, Beth. She kind of got around so I was thinking she might have experienced first hand, you know, she was at risk.”

“What do you mean by at risk?”

“Oh come on, your sister was a slut. Everyone knew it.”

I sat there with the phone a bit stunned. He just called my sister a slut.

“Hodge, you’re an asshole. In fact you’ve always been an asshole.” I hung up the phone. What an asshole.

After sitting for a few minutes and collecting my thoughts I called my sister and told her about the conversation.

“What an asshole,” she said. “Sure I was sleeping with his best friend without the benefit of being his best friend’s official girlfriend. OK I also slept with another one of his friends but we were in college. We were young.”

“Did you ever sleep with Hodge?”

“No. Hell no. He was always making passes at me and grabbing me. Hodges had that Madonna/Whore things going on in his head. A girl was either a virgin until marriage or a whore. Plus we’re not like him, you know the religion thing, so he just assumed I was a whore.”

“But you didn’t have sex with him.”

“I know. That makes me a whore. He called any girl who wouldn’t have sex with him a whore.”

“What an asshole.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. I mean, if the guy had asked me to go see a movie or go for a walk or just spent time talking that would have been different but he was just all over me like…yuck. He really called you? I can’t believe he’d have the gall to do that. Asshole.”

After we got off the phone with the promise of a lunch date later in the week I got to thinking about my own kids.

I’d spoken with both my daughter and son about sexual predators. I’ve done the best to teach them not to be bully bait. I’ve taught them to stand up for themselves and for others.

From experience I knew that bullies never grow up and most don’t change. 

Hodge never got the answer he wanted. Over the years Beth had a few close calls with sexual predators but she always ended up safe either by being with friends or using physical force to get out of it (exactly twice as she told me.) That didn’t include unwanted advances by guys like Hodge. And even though Hodge didn’t use force it still hurt emotionally that he’d think so little of her or of any girl.

I wanted to pound the crap out of him. Then I thought about how many other women out there who thought the guy was an asshole. That made me smile. Spread the word ladies, spread the word.

That evening after work I talked to my wife about it. She shook her head and said she’d had similar experiences. More anger surged through my brain, then sadness deep in my soul.

We all judge others. We all make assumptions. We all call names even if it isn’t out loud. We all talk behind the backs of others. Maybe we need to stop. It isn’t easy. It isn’t even practical.

Anyway, if you see Hodge Williams call him and an asshole and tell him that Beth and Bart say hello.

vm girl in woods