Every afternoon that summer he waited for me on some park bench. Morpheus would seem to dissolve out of the shadows to walk in step with me on the way to my tree after my morning shift at Dave's Diner. I only gave him a few minutes each day, but he never wasted a second. We learned that we lived two apartment buildings down from each other, that my dad was out of the picture and his mom was out of his. I learned that his favorite plant is the clover, we learned we'd be starting our junior years together in the fall.

By August he'd started walking me home, telling me wild stories of the past lives he claimed to have lived: working in a factory in the 30s, fighting in the Revolutionary War, surviving the Titanic, slaying a dragon. Morpheus was happiest when he was telling a story. Other times, the sadness crept back in. I could see it in the way he held himself, how heavy his eyes seemed, how tightly he wrapped his trench coat around himself. Something was eating away at him; he was decaying before my eyes.

On August 11th, I lost my house key. We had stayed out late to watch the sunset. Mom was out of town visiting an aunt. Morpheus had walked me into the building just to ensure my safety. He watched me fumble as I dug through my small purse and turned out all of my pockets.

"Is everything alright?'

I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, "My house key--it--I can't"

He touched my arm, "Manaia, calm down. Is there someone you can call?"

I shook my head.

"Let me text my dad, you can probably crash on our couch for the night."

I continued to search half-heartedly for my key as Morpheus tapped on his phone. His face was gaunt in the blue light, hollow and cold. When the phone buzzed, he smiled and the warmth returned.

"C'mon, he said yes." 

I let him lead me down the stairs and across the dark, worn parking lot that had separated us. His apartment was small, but clean. He led me to the couch. The room was plunged into darkness.

And there he was, suddenly beside me, dragging me into the light of his candle. My shadow was cast jagged against the wall. He stroked it and I could feel his phantom touch on my arm.

"What are you?"

Morpheus leaned in, fangs bared. "I'm very, very hungry, my dear Manaia."

He grasped the dark mass on the wall and began to drink from it. Slowly I felt something leaching from my body, and then, nothing.