"Guess who's got an essay and doesn't have to do it now?!" I yelled happily, as I got home. Reilly was on his laptop and Michael was trailing behind me. I thought he was supposed to be packing?

I slammed the door closed and jumped onto our old couch, tossing my backpack across the room. It slammed against the wall before slumping into the floor.

"Not you. I decided we're not leaving for another weak," Reilly announced, as I had begun to feel slightly happier about leaving.

"What?! Oh for fucks sake. I don't wanna do the stupid essay!" I whined.

I slumped down angrily. I would give anything to not have to write another essay for Mrs. Sipes class. Anything. Except being caught by the executioners. In that case, I would much rather do the essay.

"Only joking, we actually are leaving tomorrow," Reilly said smiling, as he continued to type away on his laptop.

I stood from the couch and walked over to see what Reilly was doing, but he quickly closed the laptop before I could.

"Hey! I wanted to see what you were doing!"

"Sorry, you can't know until tomorrow."

"Why not? It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."

"Please, you're such a blabber mouth!" Michael yelled from the kitchen. "You can't even keep our secret without writing it down in that diary of yours."

My eyes widened. He knew about that? How could he know? I was so sure I was careful enough that he wouldn't–

"You're not very good at hiding things either," he said, walking into the room with a plate of turkey.

I felt my lips curl and I found myself growling at him. Reilly only laughed at me while Michael rolled his eyes several times. Fed up with him today, I charged over, took a turkey leg from his plate and ran to my room.

I heard Michael yell, "hey! That's mine!" Before I slammed my door.

Leaping onto my bed, I began to gnaw on my delicious turkey leg. It was so good I could feel myself drooling. We rarely ever got good poultry and meat in large quantities to avoid suspicion, so when we did have it it was a special occasion. And I hated having to watch how much I ate because by dinner time I usually wanted to eat an entire horse. But of course if an entire horse went missing, the executioners would be right on our tails, very much literally.

I realized how hungry I still was when I found myself still gnawing on the bone. Rolling off the bed, I snuck out of my room and into the kitchen to get more turkey. I was already salivating from the smell.

My plan to sneak around was foiled when I realized Michael and Reilly were in the kitchen. I quickly turned around to go back to my room. I didn't want to deal with them now. But Michael grabbed me by the back of my shirt and dragged me into the kitchen.

"Do you want us to eat these 3 turkeys by ourselves?" He asked, still dragging me.

"Three?!" I squealed, wheeling back around excitedly.

"Yes, now hurry up and pick one or I'll eat them all," he grinned.

"Or I will," Reilly added. He had a line of drool trailing down his chin. I guess he was enjoying this feast as much as I was.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, pulling one of the untouched turkeys towards me.

"Moving," Michael said through the chewing of his food. "And how come you get the entire uneaten turkey?"

"Because I'm a hormonal growing girl who hasn't eaten meat this good since last month."

Reilly laughed as he ate, and again Michael just rolled his eyes. I could tell he was as fed up with me as I was with him, but without them I would likely not survive. I knew we were running low on money, and the one job Michael had as a cashier was making what little he could for us. Though, since he was fired last week he probably spent the last of his money on all this turkey. I say good call.

Within five minutes the only sign left we had turkey in the first place was the pile of bones that sat on each of our plates. Each of our bellies had visibly grown in size from all the turkey. For once I felt full and it was nice to not go to bed hungry. And though I never bugged Michael or Reilly about it, I could tell they went to bed hungry too.

Reilly let out a loud burp and Michael and I quickly followed in suit. We were professional burpers at this rate. I just hoped that wherever we were going allowed us to eat enough to burp like this all the time.

"Whelp I'm going to bed!" I yawned, stretching from my chair.

"Want me to tuck you in?" Reilly called, as I walked down the hall.

"I hate you," I yelled back.

I could hear the muffled sound of Reilly's head being slammed against the kitchen cabinet. I laughed at the thought. Michael always did something like this after Reilly said anything like that to me, which he did a lot.

Making it to my room, I pulled out a pair of soft pajamas. If there was one thing I liked being, it was warm.

After putting on my pajamas I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Looking in the mirror, I let my eyes go red and my fang like teeth extend, as I picked up my toothbrush and toothpaste.

"What are you doing?!" Michael asked, popping his head from behind the door.

I screamed, but it sounded a lot more animalistic than I'd intended it to, and I tripped as I jumped back, falling backwards into the tub. This really wasn't my day.

"Nothing," I finally said, but I knew he had seen me.

"Just be more careful, okay?" Michael left, closing the door behind him. Was that about me falling in the tub or about my red eyes and teeth?

Shrugging it off, I climbed out of the tub and continued to brush my teeth without extending my fangs. Sometimes my appearance amuses me because it looks like what a mainstream vampire might look like, minus the bright hair and complexion.

Sighing at my continuous stupidity, I left the bathroom and walked back into my room. Immediately, I hopped into bed and snuggled under all my blankets. Being cold blooded was not necessarily as fun as you would think, especially living in Boston during the winter.

"Quinn, I've come to tuck you in."

I peaked out from under my mountain of blankets to see Reilly grinning in the doorway. I grabbed the nearest book and threw it at him, but I realized to late it was my diary. Reilly caught it and flipped it open to my dismay.

"Dear diary, Reilly is like so hot. Aw Quinn you're too kind."

"I never wrote that!" I growled, scrambling out of bed to get my diary back.

In my haste, I tripped again, this time over my blankets. Falling forward, I hit the floor head on, and my nose made a deafening cracking sound.

I whirled up, trying not to cry and holding my nose. I could already feel the blood dripping onto my chin.

"Oh god, Quinn are you okay?" Reilly asked, tucking my diary in his back pocket.

"No," I whimpered. God this hurt so fucking much.

"What is going on in here?" Michael yelled, hearing all the commotion.

Reilly just looked at me, clearly unsure of what to do, and Michael frowned seeing the blood coating my chin. Michael slapped Reilly on the back of the head.

"What did you do?" He asked calmly.

"Me? I didn't do anything. She tripped out of bed."

"Let me fix your nose," Michael said, walking towards me. "It can heel by itself after that. It's just a simple reset. How hard can it be?"

"Yeah that's not a good idea." I backed up, but my bed stopped me. Why couldn't he just let it heal by itself. I could already feel my nose ever so slowly molding back into place. Humans don't heel this way, neither do most species. I guess it's just a Bloodwing thing.

I felt Michael cover my mouth and then suddenly snap my nose back into place. I screamed and bit down on his hand.

I swear I saw him lose his cool for a second before he drew his hand back. His eyes flashed red before turning back to brown. I had made him really mad. Michael almost never got mad, at least not like this.

"Quinn what the fuck?! That really fucking hurt!" He yelled. The neighbors must really hate us.

"Sorry," I squeaked.

Michael stormed out of my room, leaving me with Reilly again. He handed me a lot of tissues for me to clean my still bloody chin and now the floor where the blood had dripped. Thank god it wasn't carpet.

"Well goodnight Quinn," Reilly said, leaving my room. "Don't pack anything tomorrow. I will handle it."

"Okay," I signed. "Goodnight Reilly."

He switched off my light, leaving me in the dark. I threw away all the tissues, climbed into bed and under my blanket pile. I didn't realize how tired I really was until my head hit the pillow. But suddenly I realized Reilly still had my diary, and no matter how hard I tried to make my legs move to go get it, sleeps grip on me pulled me into my dreams.