An Inconvenient Thing: Part I

Welcome to a new feature that I hope you enjoy, a story called An Inconvenient Thing. This story is a serialization with no rhyme nor reason. There will be no set lengths since I'm writing on the fly and letting the story go where it will: this first offering is tiny at just over 200 words when I'm used to writing 2000+ words at a sitting. There will be no set publication dates since it depends on the kind of time I get to update due to life's demands. But maybe the randomness will help to make it a little more special. Or maybe it will hurt it. I guess we'll find out.

This serialized story was inspired by stories you may know, and is in a way a response to them. How long will the story go on for? That depends on a number of factors, not the least of which is you, the reader. Subscribe, visit, comment. Let me know what you think of An Inconvenient Thing. Let me know where I can improve. Let me know lines you love, or characters for that matter. If the story takes a turn you don't understand or like, let me know that too. Help me write Tatiana's story by being an active reader. I look forward to your feedback, and I hope you enjoy this serialization.

AN INCONVENIENT THING

Part 1: Upon Waking

I tasted the dirt on my lips and felt the weight of the earth pressing down on my chest. I didn't expect dead to feel so alive. A synapse fired in my brain, reminding me that I should be panicking. After all, I was buried alive, wasn't I? But I was dead. I remembered dying. I remembered the darkness flooding my vision and how it felt like his tight embrace was becoming as wispy as smoke.

          I tried to lift my hand, but it was held tight, pinned by the demanding earth. Another synapse fired, urging me to struggle, but I kind of liked it here in the ground. I don't remember what my mother's womb felt like - who does - but I imagined it felt much like this. I wiggled a finger, working it through the loose loam, and reveled in the sensation. 

          It was nice here, comforting, but it was an inconvenient thing, too. As the synapses continued to fire and my brain continued stretching, waking, I felt more and more like it was time to be reborn. It seemed appropriate that I remembered my death before I remembered my life, but it started to come back to me - I am Tatiana. I am nineteen. And I am a vampire.