A Crimson Veil: Mortality Turned to Blood Lust {1} -The Beginning: Part 1-

Thanks to midnightao for the banners, I absolutely love them! Those of you who follow midnightao's example, I will love you forever and a day. Anyway, on with the story.
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Scarlette awoke, her eyes fluttering open as they adjusted to the newborn sun hanging high in the sky, with its youthful rays beaming in with a gray tint through the window; its light flooding the room as a sleepy yawn escaped her lips. The rose from the night before was placed tightly between her fingers; two of the crimson petals had separated from the others, one had drifted atop an unused pillow, the other on the edge of the duvet. Scarlette stared at the flower blankly as reality began to break through her lingering dreamlike state.

She twisted the stem in her fingers a few rotations, her thoughts from the night before washed over her mind as her eyes rested on the red and green colors of the rose. She had difficulty trying to determine whether she was more anxious about someone managing to break into her room so easily, or curious as to who would go through to the trouble of accomplishing the simple task of bringing her the rose. After a few moments of silent contemplation, she sighed as she resolved her internal debate as being an even combination of both.

The bed shifted underneath her as she pushed herself out of it, setting the rose in an empty vase on the nightstand. It had contained artificial lilies at one point, but Jessie had moved them a couple weeks back to a vase downstairs and never bothered replacing them. Scarlette collected the parted petals and set them in a disarrayed pile on the night stand; she stepped in front of the mirror and grimaced at her reflection as her hair was ratted and tangled. She pulled the band out, and let it fall in a mess past her shoulders, and grabbed the brush as she started the daily war with her hair.

Scarlette lazily finished up and walked into the kitchen, unlike the morning prior, it was empty. She figured they must be coming down soon for breakfast, and she opened the refrigerator in search of some orange juice. She had the door open not even a moment before she slammed it shut, as it dawned on her that Jessie had finished the last of it yesterday. Reaching for the bread, she stopped midway and grunted, why was she searching for food when she was not even hungry? What a waste.

She looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she should wake the other two, how early was it anyway? Her eyes widened as they rested on the digital clock on the microwave, 3:37, and she hurried to the window. She had mistaken the alteration of the sun's rays due to the day's overcast with that of an early sun. As if she was late, she hurried upstairs and threw on some clothes simply out of habit, how had she managed to sleep in until this hour? Oh, how she hated doing that, she always felt as if she was sleeping her day away.

There was still nearly two hours until Jessie finished work, and only God knew where Adrian might have been. So, she had another day of attempting to figure out how to spend her time, when a thought came to mind.

"Where did I put it?" Scarlette asked herself, before spotting the item of her search. She grabbed the small electronic, and began flipping through the contacts of her cell.

"Rebecca, Rylie, Sadie, aha, Sammy," she announced her herself. She held the ringing phone to her ear, barely a moment later was there an answer.

"Scarlette! I was wondering when you'd call, what's up?" Sammy greeted cheerfully.

"Nothing much, you working?" she replied.

"Just got off at 3:30."

"I was wondering if you wanted to get some lunch and catch up, unless you've eaten already.

"Are you kidding? I'm starved, Mrs. Miller had me taking inventory all through my lunch hour. Meet
me at Jojo's in ten, 'kay? Awesome, see you then," Sammy hurried Scarlette off the phone enthusiastically. Scarlette slowly hung up, her expression slightly taken aback, but mostly amused.

"Jojo's it is then," she conceded before grabbing her wallet and heading out the door.

Arriving just a few minutes shy of ten, it was hard to miss Sammy's waving hand from across the sports bar styled restaurant, if that was not eye-catching enough, the neon pink outfit she wore did the trick.

"Scar!" Sammy hugged her tightly when Scarlette approached the table.

"Hey Sam," Scarlette greeted, unable to quite return the embrace from the way Sammy pinned her arms to her side. After about thirty seconds, Sammy released and both sat down.

"I hope you don't mind I ordered for you, things tend to get busy around this time as more get off work, roast beef sandwich okay?" Sammy informed her, her voice now a great deal calmer.

"No, that's fine. A roast beef sandwich sounds good," Scarlette assured her before trying to start a conversation, "so tell me, what do you plan to do once you get to Berkeley?"

"To be honest? I don't want to go to Berkeley, I want to major fashion design and business," her friend admitted.

"If you don't want to, why are you?" Scarlette asked in a puzzled manner.

"My dad thinks a business and accounting major is much more practical, but as I'm sure you guessed, that did not exactly go over too well with me."

"So now you have to attend Berkeley, even though you have no desire for business?"

"Not exactly. We struck a compromise, I am to attend Berkeley for one year, if within that time I do not change my mind and decide to pursue this more 'practical' career, than I am free to apply to any design school I wish," Sammy stated proudly.

It was then Scarlette took a second look at Sammy's outfit, how interesting it was. It was a dress consisting almost entirely of neon pink fabric, the only sleeve was no thicker than an inch, and looked as if it had been ripped and retied to hang just off her right shoulder. From the waist down, it had been shredded so the black lining underneath now alternated with the pink strips. Finally, a three-inch black, leather belt circled her petite waste to break up the expansive neon color.

In addition, to accent the dress, she wore black and white striped leggings that finished just below the knee, leaving her calves bare until her feet which were covered with black converse. Her wrist was ringed with black and white bangles; her neck was circled with a black ribbon pulled tight as a choker, and a pin resembling a hot pink scorpion was fixed in the center.

It was so tacky in nature that it was stylish, and Sammy knew just how it should be worn to pull off such a unique sense of taste. Scarlette could have sworn that Sammy could fix up a burlap sack and turn it into a new international trend.

"Did you make that dress?" Scarlette finally asked.

"Yep, my closet is full clothes I've made, or attempted to make since I was twelve," Sammy laughed, "believe me, some of my earlier ones were complete disasters. I guess, that's what you get when you're still learning to use a sewing machine."

"Well, its definitely unique. Only you could manage colors and styles like that and pull it off like a model," Scarlette complimented.

"Why, thank you, fabulous is in my blood," Sammy mocked in an upper-class style of an English dialect. Both broke out into laughter as the girl came over with their food: one basket of fries, a basket of onion rings, and two wrapped roast beef sandwiches.

"About time!" Sammy exclaimed as she immediately started into the onion rings, before quickly unwrapping her sandwich. Scarlette wondered how any girl could eat as she did and still manage to keep a model-like figure, what a metabolism.

"Hungry much?" Scarlette chuckled as she began dipping her fries in ketchup, Sammy nodded enthusiastically, but slowed down at her comment. At least Sammy was much cleaner than Adrian when doing so, and she still managed to maintain a certain level of etiquette.

"So," Sammy began, but stopped to swallow and clear her throat, "so, what about you? What do you plan when you get to Dartmouth?"

"I'm set to major in psychology."

"Oh? Do you want to be a psychologist? Never quite pegged you for that, to be quite honest. Haha, it may seem dumb, but I always pictured you becoming a rock star."

"A rock star?" Scarlette laughed, "and why is that?"

"Before you moved to live with your relatives, you were hardly seen without that guitar of yours, didn't you start playing when you were like eight or something?"

"Six, my dad was not terribly passionate about music in any form, but my mom was. She loved anything and everything to do with rock and metal, my dad always says that I got my 'rebellious' nature from her," she chuckled.

"So, what happened? Do you still play? From what I remember you were really good," Sammy asked, intrigued. Scarlette grew quiet, and averted her eyes downward before answering.

"Well, after my dad passed away, I tried to continue playing for about a year, but I just began playing less and less until not at all. I don’t know, I just couldn't feel it anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry to bring it up, I didn't mean…"

"No, its fine, its no big deal," Scarlette assured her with a smile, as she struggled to return her voice to its previous uplifting tone.

"So, psychology is the new direction, then?"

"In a sense, I mean I love the area, its always been interesting, but that's not what I really want to do. Believe me, you weren't far off, there was time when my whole dream was to be a musician, well, as you can tell, circumstances sort of ruptured that dream. Anyway, what I really want to do is write."

"Writing? That's cool. What kind, like journalism?"

"No, I prefer stories, books. I plan to minor in creative writing, it should help."

"Why not major in creative writing and minor in psychology?"

"Once again, writing does not pay the bills until something is published," Scarlette chuckled.

"Oh, right," Sammy joined, "well, it sounds like a plan, I hope things work out for you."

"Thanks, and maybe if you're lucky, your dad will let you drop out sooner."

"Fat chance," Sammy rolled her eyes. Both broke out into laughter again when Scarlette realized both had finished their lunch and were now both mindlessly picking at the remainder of the French fries. Sammy pulled out her phone and groaned at the time.

"Its 4:30, I better get going, I'm supposed to visit the Berkeley campus tomorrow with my parents. Dad's been adamant about the time, and until these next few weeks pass and I turn eighteen, I can't do much to defy it."

"Its cool, I should probably get going to," Scarlette agreed as she began stacking the food baskets.

"We'll have to do this again soon, 'kay?" Sammy suggested hopefully.

"Definitely," Scarlette nodded as both made their way to the door.

The sky had darkened immensely, even the sun could not be seen through the clouds.

"It looks like its going to rain soon, you did drive here right?" Sammy asked.

"Yeah, do you need a ride?"

"No, its fine, I have to meet my dad just a few shops up, so I guess I'll catch you later?"

"Yeah," Scarlette said, as she hugged her friend and both said their good-byes. Sammy slipped on a gray coat Scarlette had not even realized she was carrying, before hurrying up the street. She lost sight of her when she entered one of the shops, and Scarlette turned back to find her car.