Without a Shadow by Julie Steimle (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

thoughts and basest desires. Had my mother ever considered me a monster…a vampire?

“Why won’t you let me go out on Halloween?” My voice had a pathetic whimper in it that, I am ashamed to say, I use on several occasions to get what I want.

Her eyes went soft, and she lowered her head. I looked up at her as dolefully as possible.

“I only said maybe,” she said.

I secretly smiled inside. My heart pounded in my chest. I hoped that I might have my way yet.

“But you can’t go out as a black cat,” she added with her old firmness.

“Oh, Mom!” I dropped back into a whine.

“And you go to bed here tonight—on time. You can be Snow White for Halloween,” she said.

“I was Snow White last year! You never tell Dawn what she can be for Halloween!” My whine was getting obnoxious, even for me. It really didn’t suit me to whine, and I only did it rarely.

She gave me that look that said you-can’t-play-me. “Dawn doesn’t choose to be creatures associated with witchcraft and devil worship.”

“Black cats are not evil,” I returned with a snort. Her imps still shouted that she should ground me for my back-talk, but I knew my mother would do no such a thing, and I grinned at one as if to tell him so.

“No—but your friend is planning on being a witch, and is or is not a black cat a witch’s familiar?” She stared at me full on. I lost.

“Fine. But I am not going as Snow White.” I turned and walked back up to my room. I had to call Jane and let her know that what I knew would happen had happened. I knew she would be disappointed, but to be frank, I was not all that bugged by it. I think that argument let me forget my problems for at least a small moment. 

Discussion with Dad

 

When my father returned home from work, my mother took him aside at the base of the stairs and whispered to him again. As soon as she was finished counseling with him, he walked straight up to my room. I was finishing my homework before I skipped off to Jane’s house to at least plan an alternative costume. He knocked on the door jamb with his knuckles.

“Can I come in?” He always asked, even though I knew he was going to come in anyway.

I put down my pencil. “Do you need something, Dad?”

He nodded, peering at my face with his simple grin. He reached toward my jaw. “Can I look at your teeth for a second?”

My father’s a dentist, so this was not an odd request. He always liked to check up on our teeth to make sure we were taking care of them properly. I smirked and opened my mouth.

He let out a low whistle, staring at my teeth, tilting my chin to get a better view of them. When he let go, he said, “You certainly work on keeping them white. But Eve, I think I need to take you to the office tomorrow to take care of a few things. How about tomorrow? You can skip school.”

I wondered if Mom had talked to him about the vice principal’s phone call. She had never said a word to me about it, even after our small spat over the Halloween costume.

“Miss a whole day of school? Won’t the appointment take only an hour at most?” I said.

I heard his heart jump some. It was strange that lately I could hear it more. I didn’t have to be so close to hear the beats of hearts. I had always attributed it to my condition, but now I had to wonder.

“Yes, darling. I think it would not be worth going to school tomorrow after having it interrupted mid-day.” My father turned to go, looking satisfied.

I bit my lip, wondering still. I peered up at my dad, whom I always thought as easy-going and sensible. Maybe he did know what was happening to me. Maybe he could explain it.

“Dad,” I blurted out, getting up from my chair before he could disappear down the hall.

He turned back around, gazing at me with mild curiosity. However, his heart beat heavier in his chest, as if he was holding back something that he was afraid of. I drew in another breath and dared to ask it. “Dad, the vice principal called home. Strange things have been…” I swallowed, gazing at his face and hearing his heart pound faster. “Do you know what is happening to me?”

He understood the question. I could see it in his eyes, but he hesitated to answer. He sighed and lowered his head. Looking up, he shrugged. “Eve, I don’t know.”

His honesty calmed me somewhat, but I still felt chills go through me. He turned again and continued down the hall.

Discussion with Jane

 

“How about this?” Jane held up the black crushed velvet and smiled at me.

I had been staring at the rag rug on her floor, not really thinking of anything except the discomfort I was feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I think I should go home.”

She dropped the cloth and frowned. “Eve, we haven’t even started your costume yet. You have got to convince your mother that it is high time you dressed more Halloween-y.”

The sick feeling remained in my stomach. I shook my head and stood up. “I have all day tomorrow to make a costume. I think I’ll be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.”

Jane grimaced. “You’re chickening out, aren’t you?”

I closed my eyes. “No. I just…” Opening my eyes and looking at her, I said, “Don’t I creep you out in the least? My dad’s taking me to his office tomorrow. I don’t have any cavities, Jane. He’s gonna file down my teeth. He did it once before when I was a kid. Doesn’t that make you nervous?”

I could hear my friend sigh. Her heartbeat was a nice even pace. She didn’t need to answer. She didn’t sound scared at all. 

“Look,” Jane said, “I know you, Eve. You are NOT a monster. What reason do I have to be scared of you?”

Turning, I went towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jane. I really do need to go.”

She made a face at me. “I’m still dressing up as a witch. I hope you’ll reconsider what you’re going to be at the school party.”

I shrugged and left the room. Jane’s mom let me out the front door, giving me one last long look. I heard her imp tell her to forbid me to see Jane again, calling me a freak.

I paused on the doorstep, glancing back at her. “Good night, Mrs. Bennetti.”

She nodded and closed the door, locking the dead bolt.

It was already getting dark when I walked home. Our bedtime curfew was twelve o’clock, but my mother had yet to enforce it for my brothers or myself. For Dawn, she had to regularly hunt her down and drag her home. It was still fairly early—eight o’clock. Most people didn’t go outside after sunset, but I never had a problem with the dark. My light sensitive eyes were well equipped to see into the pitch black. This day, that knowledge was not as assuring as it used to be. I hurried home as quickly as I could.

Can't Sleep

 

“Lights out!” My mother did not like us staying up on a school nigh, despite the curfew.

I was already dressed for bed, pacing my room in my bare feet, as I crossed the rug back and forth while wringing my hands. Lately I have been agitated before bed—a feeling that confused me. It was like I was suddenly full of energy and I needed a way to expend it. I kept thinking if Mom had just let me continue surfing in the morning I might have been able to burn it off. But here I was, pacing, aching, and trying my hardest to keep my promise to my mother by NOT staring at the moon.

I turned from my window and flipped the light switch off. Dropping to my knees at the end of my bed, I prayed my hardest that I would be able to sleep that night. But as I mouthed the words, I heard a light tapping on the glass. My head popped up. The curtains swayed somewhat as if the window was open a crack. I closed my eyes and finished the prayer as fast as I could and quickly hopped into bed, jerking the covers over my nose I could sleep and forget that there was a moon outside.

I tossed, kicking the covers up a bit. I turned. The blankets twisted around me. I scratched where my back itched, around a birthmark I hoped wouldn’t scar and deform into some cancerous lump. I rolled over, blinking at the clock. It was ten.

Slamming my eyes shut, I rolled back over, jerking on my covers to keep me warm.

My back itched again. It was just between my shoulder blades, where my birthmark was. My birthmark was sometimes itchy, but it always went away after a good scratch. I reached back with one firm fingernail and scraped, then flopped back onto my pillow. I peeked open one eye. Ten fifteen. I moaned and rolled over again.

Ow! My back still itched. I sat up, grabbed my pillow and turned it around, clawing between my shoulder blades again, and dropped hard onto the bed. I squinted at the clock hoping it was at least three hours later.

Ten twenty.

Groaning I kicked at my covers, rolled over, scratching between my shoulder blades again. It was an awkward reach, I was getting sore. Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly. I did it once more, closing my eyes and getting