First Love

When I was little, I remembered playing in a park where a beautiful peach blossom tree grew. The tree looked out of place to me, for its luscious canopy of pink stood out boldly—in stark contrast to the sea of green enclosing it. When autumn arrived, all of the trees would shed their green leaves, for the bright and gaudy leaves in shades of gold, crimson, yellow and amber. All except one, and that was the peach blossom tree, which stayed true to its lovely shade of pink. Then, when the time was right, the trees would all gift their brilliant leaves to the children, leaving them to hunt and collect for the ones they thought beautiful enough for a bookmark.

Once, I was made exhausted after a game of endless “Tag” with my playmates. I stumbled upon the peach blossom tree, and collapsed due the exhaustion almost immediately. I tried to regulate my breathing first, but my tiredness got the better of me and before I knew it, I was sound asleep. It was noon when I woke up again, and that was only because I was interrupted by a young girl around my age. She had a lovely complexion, with big doll-like eyes and rosy cheeks. Her loose brunette braid looked as if it was done carelessly, by someone who was quite in a hurry. The pink floral dress she had on billowed with every ounce of the autumn breeze.

But however lovely she may had looked, she still did interrupt my nap.

“What do you want?” I snapped, my irritation plain to hear. I had hoped that my look of contempt and my unfriendly tone would scare her off. To my surprise and further irritation, she started examining me like I was her science experimental test subject. I was prepared to tell her off, but she just whispered, “Are you...lonely?”

Seeing my stupefied face, she probbed further still, “Do you have any friends? Is that why you're lying down here all alone? If you want, I can be your friend!”

I stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words. I had not expected her to ask such ridiculous questions. However, seeing her talk with such child-like innocence and sincereness, I hadn't have the heart to tell her off. So I simply nodded, and her face lighted up as she helped me off the ground. “Wonderful! We'll be the best of friends now!” After a little bit of conversation, I got to know that we went to the same kindergarten. She even live three houses away from me! We soon realised that we shared even more things in common, from our pastimes to favourite foods. Really, it was fascinating, to know that there were so many coincidences within our fates. I had come to realise that I had carried a strong bond with her.

When I first entered elementary school, I could not stiffle my astonishment. I saw her in my school, and what was more, we were even in the same class! We became literally inseparable, as we went with each other almost everywhere. Our class even had a name for the both of us—“the child couple”. Yet, I did not bother for them and carried on playing with her. Those were probably the best days of my life.

Things took a huge decline when I started high school. She had transferred to another school, one not know to me. It was an even bigger blow for me when I heared that she and her entire family had moved away to another country. The idea of not being able to see her again left me devastated. Sometimes I tossed and turned in my bed, the mere thought of her leaving me unsettled. I missed the days when I still had her, I missed her adorable giggles whenever I made a bad joke, I missed her dreadfully.

Soon, I entered the local college as a freshman. As all of the students had to stay in the dormitories during the weekdays, I seldom went back home. Then on the weekends, out of the blue came an idea to visit the park, where the peach blossom tree stood. It was still there when I got there, much to my astonishment. I sat next to the tree without any second thoughts. The blooming pink canopy above me rustled a little, as if the tree had missed having company. Moments later, I drifted into a deep slumber.

Not long after, I aroused after being nudged in the ribs several times. My eyebrows knitted, my jaw hardened—a clear sign that I would like to be left alone. But the pokings never ceased. Instead, my attacker had retorted to kicking me. I got up and was about to yell at him to scram, but I paused when I saw him—or rather her. She wore a startled expression, as if she had never expected me to awake. He dark brown waves fell down her shoulders in ringlets, and she wore a leather jacket over a plain white shirt and jeans. However, her changes stopped there. Other than that, she still had her doll-like eyes, and the same rosy cheeks.

“It's you!” Both of us exclaimed in unison. She looked just as bewildered and amazed as I was. We then basked in each other's company for awhile, trying to pick up from where we left off. It was a little awkward

at first but soon we managed to converse as if there was no gap between us. After some time, she told me she had some things she wanted to attend to. Watching her go, made my heart regain its heaviness. Then, out of the blue, I remembered something.

I got up, and took off after her. “Wait up!” I yelled. She turned to look back, and was startled to see me right next to her. She cocked her head in confusion.

“I...I haven't really...got to know your name...”

She looked taken aback for a while, but then she regained her composure. “And I haven't really got to know yours either. Shall we...say it together on the count of three?”

I grinned sheepishly. “Well then. 1...2...3—”

“My name is Howard!”

“My name is Erin,” She yelled, then grinned broadly, “and I'm your lover.”

The next moment came in a blur. One moment we were exchanging our names, and then the next—Erin had hugged me tightly. “Promise me,” she breathed, “Promise me that we'll never be apart anymore.”

~

The night of the blood moon draws near. And it is not a good sign at all. It means that i only have two days left, to finish what I came to do.

I shiver, but ever so slightly. The night breeze chills with every step I take, as the moment I dread seems to be so near already. I cup my hands around my mouth and breathe into them, hoping to draw warmth.

Howard notices this, and yanks his scarf off. He wraps me with it, and his eyes sweep over me with concern. “Erin, are you alright? You look pale; maybe we shouldn't stay out here in such cold conditions.”

This is it. I must tell him already. “No, Howard, I'm fine out here. Besides, the wind has died down a little. I'll be alright.” Before he could say another word, I quickly cut in. “Right. Howard, do you know anything about sirens?”

“Sirens—as in alarms? Yes, but why?”

“No, silly. The sirens I'm referring to are those in the myths.”

Howard ponders over it for a while, before asking, “Oh, the females who attract sailors with their voices?”

“Yes, something like that. Sirens are considered half-humans. They are well-known for their beautiful voices, and usually come in forms of mermaids or half birds. Their songs are manipulative, charming, used to attract unlucky sailors and kill them. Most use their songs and seductive voices, while some put their beauty and wits to good use.”

Howard nods with understanding. “Basically, their descendants must be all whores and hoes.”

I giggle a little, before adding, “You have a point there. but did you know that there are two kinds of sirens?”

He cocks his head. “One is a singer, and the other a prositute...?”

“No. There are two kinds, one is what we call a “normal” siren, and the other...a blood siren.” At the mention of “blood siren”, Howard pricks his ears up. “How do you differentiate them?” He asks.

“Normal sirens have lower half bodies of animals. They usually appear in places where people seldom come, like the open ocean, or forests. Blood sirens can take the forms of humans. That's why they are more able to mingle around with people than the normal ones.”

I heave a sigh, before continuing, “Sirens are creatures forever entangled with love. The normal sirens usually find love as entertainment. They enjoy and relish seducing victims, then murdering them when their victim bores them. Blood sirens are, well, different. They are more attached to humans than normal sirens, because blood sirens, like their names suggest, mean sirens who feed on blood. But they can't feed on any blood. They have to feed on a lover's blood to survive.”

“Then...how long would the blood last them—the blood sirens?”

“It depends. If a blood siren and her lover has a shallow relationship, then when the blood siren feeds on his blood, it would last her for a few weeks, maybe a month. In contrast, if a blood siren and her lover has formed a deep bond, then the blood siren could live on his blood for decades or hundreds of years. However, if a blood siren does not drink the blood of her loved ones, she would suffer a fate worse than death. She would become a mindless zombie, robbed of her will to think and shall feed on the blood of many, many innocent victims. Most blood sirens give up their more or less immortal form because they wish no harm upon their loves.” A single tear rolls down my cheek, but Howard has seen it.

You don't have to cry, Erin. What are you crying for?” He smiles, trying to comfort me. But when I grab his wrist, he cocks his head, as if he doesn't really understand. “Erin?” He realises something is not right when I lower my head.

“I'm sorry, Howard.”

“Erin? Wait, what are you sorry for? Erin?” He pressures, while frantically trying to loosen my steel-like grip on his wrist.

It isn't until I raise up my head and allow him to look at my bloodred eyes and rows of serrated teeth, then only a flicker of fear passes through his eyes. His voice falters and his struggles begin to cease. If he hasn't understood before, he understands now.

“Erin, please tell me you're not one of them.”

Tears gather at the corner of my eyes. But my appetite is beginning to crave for his blood. My mind is empty, thoughts fading except one: feed.

His scream only lasts for a second before he is silenced.

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