Waiting For Sunrise

It had been too long. Irene's life had been disrupted, and despite everything she was dealing with, she longed for the distraction of the normal teenage experience. Irene was feeling strong enough to go back to school, and try to put it all behind her. This was her resolve the next morning as she bustled about.

"Irene? What's all this?" her father asked as he watched her prepare her lunch.

"No need to call me in today. I'm going back to school," she announced as she cut up some apple slices, spritzing them with lemon juice to delay oxidation. Her father snagged a piece and popped it in his mouth.

"I am glad you are feeling better, Irene. You know where your doctor's note is, right?"

"I'll be fine," Irene responded as she filled her water bottle.

"Take it all the same, just in case," her father cautioned. Irene sighed and relented, signaling to her father as such with a nod of her head. He walked over and kissed the top of her head.

"Take care, kiddo. I need to get to work."

As Irene was tying up her shoelaces, she heard footsteps behind her. She groaned and looked over her shoulder. There stood Cyrus, staring. The sun had not yet fully risen, but he was cutting it close. Irene was certain that he was staring at her backside, and it made her skin crawl. After last night, Irene wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

“Going back to school?” he asked. Irene sighed and nodded her head. Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest. “Be sure to come back home before it gets dark. There is something ominous in the air.”

“Right…” Irene muttered as she lifted her school bag and quickly left.

The day had just begun, but Irene was already tired upon arriving. Passing through the school lobby, she stopped to notice a table set up with a beautiful red cloth, and two framed pictures. She walked over closely, and saw portraits of Katie and Ashley. Irene hadn't heard anything about them on the news, and it caught her off guard to see memorials to these two girls. But what about Tina? Was her death not worthy of recognition just because it involved drugs? What happened? What false truth was everyone here told? It just wasn't fair!

Irene continued to just stare at the pictures, flashes from that horrid event leaping to her mind. Irene put her hands to her ears. It was a futile gesture, because the sound she desperately wanted to escape came from within. They were screaming and moaning in such pain and agony. Irene shuddered, her knees feeling weak. Heat throbbed through her body, but spread out in icy echoes. Soon she could see their faces. She didn’t see them when that horrible vampire got to them, but now, her mind was conjuring contorted visages of torment. Irene let out a sharp sound that was neither a scream nor a gasp, but something in between.

Reality was reunited with her at the touch of a hand and the calling of her name. Irene hadn’t any idea how long she had been like that, nor how long someone had been calling her name. She opened her eyes and saw the concerned face of Merle. “Irene…”

“M-Merle…?” Irene muttered, uncertain. Merle had been all shades of red with her. However, Irene hadn’t the capacity at that moment to hold it against Merle. She turned around to face Merle, sniffling to hold back a sob. Merle peered at Irene silently for a moment, studying her carefully.

“Irene… now you are really starting to scare me…” Merle said in a shaky voice. Irene was never one to get so emotional over death. Yet, here she was, crying over three girls that she barely even knew. Irene shook her head and looked down. Merle quickly stooped down to make herself shorter than Irene, just so she could look up and still see Irene’s face. After a protracted silence, Merle stood back up and put both of her hands on Irene’s shoulders.

“I’ll be fine… I need to get to class,” Irene finally managed to mutter. Merle shook her head vehemently, clutching Irene’s shoulders tighter.

“No, we’re going to take a walk! It’s only P.E. after all!” Merle insisted. Irene stared at Merle, wide eyed.

“I can’t skip…” Irene stuttered. Before this year, she had a remarkable record for good attendance, doing her homework, being on time, and NEVER skipping. It may seem, in the situation that she was in, a strange concern to have, but Irene was trying to fit herself back into her regular life in spite of everything. It was how she had always coped before.

“Irene, a smudge on your record won’t kill you! Just take a walk with me; we aren’t skipping because we’re being bad, it’s because you need someone to talk to!” Merle coaxed. Irene slowly shook her head. Merle sighed at Irene, searching her pale face.

After a moment's hesitation, Irene meekly nodded. Merle took that opportunity to seize Irene’s arm and guided her outside to a shady patch of trees. The silver birches were almost naked and offered little cover, but the Japanese maple still had brilliant red leaves clinging desperately to its branches. “No one should bother us here…” Merle said as she stepped over some overgrown foliage. She sat down on an old bench, and patted a spot beside her. Reluctantly, Irene sat down beside her.

“I couldn’t get anything from Jordan when I asked him about you… since I figured if you weren’t gonna talk to me, you’d at least talk to him…” Merle said. Irene barely nodded as she let out a stony gaze towards the tree in front of her.

“Jordan…” Irene said softly. Merle cocked her head to the side, staring at Irene curiously. Since only silence followed, Merle took it as her cue to continue.

“He seemed really worried about you though. I don’t blame him. Irene, you’ve been in the hospital, and I haven’t heard why. Your father didn’t say much and just assured me all you needed was rest…” Merle explained. Irene lifted her head, raising her eyebrows. She turned her head to stare at Merle, her eyebrows furrowed. Merle looked as though she was about to say more, but Irene put up her hand and interceded.

“Did you drop by while I was in the hospital? My father didn't mention... I thought you were still mad at me.” Merle’s large eyes also narrowed for a moment, before she let them pop to their usual wideness.

“Oh, you know me, I'm always flying off my handle," Merle said, shrugging and crossing her arms. "But when have I ever stayed mad long?” her tempestuous friend shook her head. "Now something's bothering you, and I may not be super observant or smart like you, but I think it's got something to do with those girls. Am I right?"

Irene stared at Merle for a long time. However, Merle just leaned in close to her, with wide, expectant eyes. Irene sighed and glanced down. “Yes…” Irene finally admitted. Merle’s eyes grew even wider, and they seemed to dominate her round face.

“But you didn't really know any of them,” Merle leaned closer still, wrapping an arm about Irene's shoulders. “Whatever is going on, you need to get it off of your chest.”

“I already got it off of my chest. I told Jordan,” Irene said coolly. Merle shook her head and continued to press on Irene.

“You are still really bothered… please, why do you keep all of these secrets from me?” Merle whined. Irene let out an aggravated sigh.

“Because, Merle, as cliché as this may sound, it’s better for YOUR well being that I don’t tell you. What I know is dangerous, and what I know is how I ended up in the hospital,” Irene growled. She whipped her head around to stare fiercely into Merle’s bewildered eyes. “Do you want to be a victim too!?”

Merle pulled back away from Irene, cringing from Irene’s sudden outburst. It wasn’t the explosive outburst that Merle usually had, but something much more heavy. “I’m sorry! I’m SORRY!” Merle squawked. Irene continued to stare at her with hostile eyes. Merle took in a deep breath, running a hand through her wild hair. “I just want… to share your problems is all… I just don’t want to lose my best friend.”

Irene relaxed, letting the tension flow out of her frame. With a sigh, all the aggression in her mannerisms deflated, leaving a defeated looking Irene. “I’m sorry as well… I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. It’s just your failure to understand that is frustrating me… and you keep getting angry when I try to do what’s best for you,” Irene explained honestly.

“I wouldn’t get so angry if you didn’t make it seem like you don’t trust me with your problems. It’s just this Cyrus guy… I feel like he has something to do with a lot of this, like you’ve fallen in with a bad crowd. I want to pull you away from them, and help you!” Merle said, with large, pouting eyes. Irene shook her head and stared up at the sky.

“I wish I had never met Cyrus…” Irene sighed. She curled in her lips for a moment, thinking about all of the unsettling chaos she had been through since that morning in the woods. Mornings had always been sacred to her, and he defiled it.

“Really… because the way you two were walking so close to each other that one evening…” Merle muttered. Irene turned and glanced at her sharply.

“He was walking close to me,” Irene clarified, a bit of injury in her tone. Irene frowned, rubbing her temples with her hands. “Listen Merle, I can’t tell you everything, but Cyrus is a bad man, and he’s associated with criminals who hurt those girls. I don't know what the news said, but I doubt it's the truth. If you are going to tell me to go to the police about it, I can’t. I don’t have enough information, and it’s too dangerous to try and get them involved.”

“This sounds like something right out of a movie Irene,” Merle reflected. She had a peculiar smirk on her face, as though she was uncertain whether to be excited at the thought of something so different and thrilling happening right in her town, right in her circle of acquaintances, or to be skeptical about what Irene was telling her.

“I’m not lying…”

“I know you wouldn't lie about something like this. It’s just so exciting and strange!” Merle exclaimed, a queer twinkle in her eyes. Irene drew away, a look of contempt tugging at her lips.

“This is serious, Merle,” Irene snapped. Merle flinched, and stared at Irene for a long moment. She sobered up a little, a gentle blush fading onto her freckled cheeks.

“Sorry,” Merle said. She stood up and stretched. “Well, alright, you can’t tell me everything… I just wish you would have told me at least THIS much sooner,” Merle said. Irene shook her head and also got onto her feet.

“I’m going to P.E. now,” Irene knew she was terribly late, and a doctor's note would not protect her from that. Merle remained perched on the bench, watching Irene.

Irene was breathing heavily as she walked her last lap. She really needed to get back into shape. The rest of the class was engaged in a game of soccer when she had finally arrived for class, late, and unexcused. Despite a note to get out of physical exertion, her P.E. instructor interpreted that as a license to merely make Irene walk a penalty lap instead of run it. Irene sighed, and held no hard feelings towards her teacher.

In the changing room, Irene overheard a group of girls talking among themselves.

“Yes, Katie’s dad is going nuts over her death…” one of them, a blonde, said.

“Well can you blame him? I’d be heartbroken if I lost my only daughter,” another chimed in, twirling her curly brown hair between her tanned fingers.

“Well, word is that Katie’s dad won’t even talk to her Uncle, until he finds the person responsible. Katie was an excellent swimmer and he insists she didn't drown without foul play,” the fair blonde added. Irene usually did not pay attention to idle chit-chat, but she was mildly curious.

“What does he expect? These things take time. Besides, they are focusing on catching Ashley's killer.”

“Well, if we had a DECENT police force, things like this could be prevented. I had no idea we had sickos around here, though,” a third finally piped in. She was also blonde, but had much shorter hair and freckles.

“There are people like that EVERYWHERE!” the brunette added, exasperated.

“There's rumours that Ashley and Katie's deaths might be connected, somehow. They both didn't come home the same night, according to Jim."

"Jim?"

"Katie's cousin."

"Oh. Maybe. But Ashley was always running away. I still think her creepy ex did it. But he'd have no reason to stab Ashley, then drown Katie. Katie was such a goodie-good, and Ashley, well, was not." The freckled girl concluded. The other blond nodded in agreement. Then, suddenly, the brunette glanced over at Irene. Irene quickly glanced away.

“Speaking of goodie-goods..." the brunette remarked, and the other girls looked towards Irene. "Come on, let’s talk somewhere else,” the brunette finally said. Irene sighed as she leaned over to tie up her shoelaces. The trio of girls nodded in agreement, grabbed their bags, and left. So, they made one girl appear as an overdose, one as an accidental drowning, and let another be a murder? Why not make them all appear as accidents? Why rouse suspicion by leaving one to be found murdered? Unless Gabriel and his men were getting sloppy. Irene wasn't sure if sloppiness would be good for her, or very bad.

Irene picked up her school bag and left the changing room. She knew the rest of the day would be tiring if she kept over hearing mention of the girls. All through math class it seemed to be the only thing people could talk about, other than talking about the latest shows, discussing who to snub, or the latest celebrity gossip. Irene tried to hide within herself as she worked through a very wordy math problem. She wished that all she could think of were the cost of tennis balls and golf balls, or how much distance a canoe traveled in a river with a fast current. However, it was to no avail. Katie and Ashley’s names haunted her. Could she have done more to help those girls? Could she do more to help herself?

After school, Irene did not go home. Instead, she walked, albeit not as briskly as she used to, to the public library. Not only did she have books to return, but she had some research to do. Irene poured over books on botany, trying to learn what she could about mistletoe.

After a long study session, Irene stretched and leaned back in her chair. She reviewed what she had learned. She never knew much about mistletoe other than people kissed beneath it at Christmas. But learning its power over vampires was oddly ironic, considering the plant itself was a vampire of the botanical world. It drank the life out of its host tree, remaining young and vibrant in the winter while its host withered and shed its leaves. Culturally, mistletoe was regarded as a very sacred plant, despite it being a weed by modern standards. Myths of mistletoe, killing the unkillable Baldur, being the substance of Christ's cross, or allowing Aenas access to the underworld all seemed to point to a connection to life and death, not just for the mortal but the divine as well. It left Irene wondering... just what is a vampire? Irene doubted any of the books in the library could answer that inquiry.

Irene's next task was to research if mistletoe could be found locally. Perhaps she could harvest some herself. To her disappointment, the most common form of mistletoe found in British Columbia was invasive dwarf mistletoe, known for its explosive green berries. She was unsure if all mistletoe was effective against vampires, or only Viscum Album, the white-berried mistletoe found in Europe.

Irene's next step was to hit the computers. But there was a waiting list to use one of the few computers provided at the library. Irene sighed, looking out the window. It was getting dark. She could not risk staying much longer. Irene gathered up her notes and left, hurrying for the closest bus station.