2.Birthday Wishes.

This stirs a weird emotion in me. She doesn't even know I'm here, but I feel ignored. The thought crosses my mind to splatter her dress in bleach or trip her on the stairs, but I refrain. I don't know what I need her for after all. She spritzes cheap perfume as she leaves. I notice everything she owns is cheap or seems second hand. I intend to pick her mind tonight and learn more.

Her tummy growls as she descends the stairs in her jade heels. She exits her apartment complex and heads across the street to another. Heads turn to admire or judge as she briskly passes. Her excitment grows as she nears the building. She almost floats up the steps to the second floor. She runs her nervous hands on her dress as she nears her intended door. I smirk. She's so oblivious, in her human senses that she can't sense what I do. She will soon though.

The last apartment on the floor. We are here my little emerald gem. Are you ready? She stops by the door, heartbeat fluctuating as muffled moans emanate from the otherside of door. She looks both ways then sticks her ear to the door. She knocks angrily. No answer. She pulls out her phone to find a video of the police doing a raid. She plays it, on full blast and holds it to the door ss she knocks.

"Police! Police. Open up. Come out with your hands up." I silently chuckle at her ingenuity. I can hear the frabtic shuffling of clothes and feet inside. The door flies open and the man gaped in horror. The girl looks past him, to the brunette on the couch, in only his shirt. Lust and anger fill the air and I revel in the mix.

"Sera. Sera. I can explain..." She laughs at him and turns away.

"Don't bother. It's self explanatory. I'm going home." He grabs her arm and drags her back.

"You aren't going anywhere. You will stand right here until you hear me out." Her arm is twisted unnaturally and she whines. The woman on the couch smirks and struts to the door by him.

"He wants to tell you it's over. He's upgraded from your dusty ass girl. As you can clearly see, we were in the middle of something." Sera opens her mouth to speak and the girl slaps her. She roars with rage and dives onto the bimbo, attacking her with a ferocity I never imagined she had in her. She slams her head off the floor and doesn't blink when the girl scratches and claws. The girls face is bloody. The man grabs her off the woman and punches her in her face. Her nose cracks and she bolts up and runs.

"Seraphine! Don't call the cops! I'm sorry. She-she tricked me. I don't want her...I never meant..." He stops and starts throwing his fit in the hall behind us, kicking and punching the halls. "Goddamn it Sera! I don't owe you an explanation. You get your sorry ass back here and speak to me. Fine. Fine! We aren't going out tonight now. Happy? I'll take Trinity. You can go home and starve. I bet your broke ass is out of ramen. Go hungry whore!"

"I'd rather starve. Fuck you Justin! Fuck Trevor or whomever your friend is too." We are back into the street and Sera is crying quietly so nobody will notice as we pass. Her stomach still growls, but she dismisses it. She dashes across the street, not looking and horns blare. She goes up to her apartment and locks the door, scooting a decrepit looking dining chair infront of it for good measure. She makes quick work of treating her nose.

She wipes her face and searches the kitchen, with a glass of tap water. I notice as she rummages that her fridge and pantry are nearly bare. There's ramen, seasonings, discount bread, off brand peanut butter, off brand flour, and syrup. The fridge has eggs, a quarter gallon of milk, cheap butter sticks, off brand cheese and two potatoes. She has a container on top of the fridge with restuarant condiments in it she has kept.

She gets to work making grilled cheese and fries with the potatoes. She keeps the grease on the stove in a covered kettle she fries in. While that cooks she whips up peanut butter, sugar packets, butter, eggs, milk, the self rise flour into a batter and pours into a small, flimsy cake pan. She pulls out her outdated phone and block's Justin's number. She links into a neighbor's wifi, playing everything from classical love songs, to current pop and metal. She sings, twirls, twerks and even headbangs while her food is cooking. She pulls out an old sundress and scissors to transform it into a floral table cloth. A glass candle holder is super glued beneath a vintage plate as a cake stand, a clear bowl now covers it. She removes the sandwiches and fries to salt, then lights a little candle that's endured heavy use. She plays N.I.B by Black Sabbath and sings between bites of food.

"Follow me now and you will not regret, leaving the life you led before we met. You are the first to have this love of mine. Forever with me 'till the end of time." She takes a bite and drums the table.

"Your love for me has just got to be real. Before you know the way I'm going to feel." She pops up to check her creative 'cake.'

"Fuck yes! Perfect!" She removes it and let's it cool, and it smells surprisingly good. I get lost watching her. Despite her poverty, heartbreak and horrible day she still finds joy and pulls herself together. She creates frosting to finish her cake. She posts a photo of her gorgeous table set and cake and then digs in, not even looking up when the knocks start on the door.

"Sera. Sera! I know you're home. Where else would you go?" She simply pulls up porn on her phone and blasts it. She giggles and takes her cake to go to bounce on the couch for added effect. "Who's there? Sera! Sera! I can fucking hear you." The porn stops to buffer. She moans around a bite of cake.

"Oh God. Mmm...I love it. It's so good." She moans out devilishly as she devours her dessert. He finally leaves after a bit, cussing and threatening. She washes her dishes and strips coming down the hall. She wants to take a bath. I step away from her into the living room and I use her cell to call for takeout and a bakery cake. I give them card information over the phone. Money is not an issue, when you've lived as long as I have. I swipe belongings or currency of those I decide to drain and I've inherited cars and a magnificent home by manipulating the minds of men before they'd die.

I exit her appartment and silently slip to the hall and wait for her delivery. I tip the man and motion for him to be quiet, explaining my surprise to my lover. He grins and wishes me luck. I can feel her sadness. I know that her high spirits have dwindled, and the levee she had built crashed. Tears probably flood her eyes now. I'll make it all better, but she'll owe me. I pull on my most earnest grin as I tap the door. I can sense her hesitation, so I let myself in and set her gifts on the table, artfully arranged. I pick up a glass from the cabinet and I drop it so it shatters loudly.

"Fuck. Fuck! That did NOT sound good." She jumps up from the tub with a towel and rushes into the kitchen with wet feet, narrowly avoiding glass. She dutifully cleans the disaster while venting about how hard it was to even afford this set. She leaves her head in her hands until I tap the table.

"Whaaaaat? Oh god. Oh no. There was someone in my house." She stares at the table. "Oh shit." She runs through the house to go get clothes on in a blind panic. She brings the broom with her. She tiptoes through the apartment, searching for an intruder. Finally, she creeps up on the piping hot large pepperoni pizza and the gorgeous red velvet birthday cake, complete with candles. She gingerly holds the card.

"To the scrumptious Seraphine, from Nox." She studies for s moment, in thought. She swings the door wide and screams into the hall.

"If that was from you Justin, you can go shit yourself! You or nobody else will ever walk on me again." She goes back to the table and sobs piteously. Her stomach growls at what's likely the best meal she's had in ages, but her pride has convinced her it's a Justin special and she can't eat it. I decide to help her a little and I conjure her the image of me in the street, from her memory. Nox. You've seen him at work. It would be rude not to eat this. Wasteful even. Go on. She shakes her head and slumps at the table, before finally taking a slice. She reluctantly eats the first slice, then waits. "Well, it's not poisoned at least." She snaps a photo of the gifts and smiles. She posts her gifts and makes it public to thank me in hopes of it reaching me. I appreciate her sentiment. I allow her to est her fill of pizza and she yawns lazily at the table.

"Who is this guy? Like, he knew where I lived to deliver this, so why don't I know him." She talks aloud to herself. I approach her and snatch up the knife to cut the cake. She flips her chair back and stares in horror as the knife appears to be floating to her eyes. I hoist her chair up with her in it and I materialize before her. I cover her mouth before she can scream.

"That guy is me. Now shhhhh..." I stare into her eyes to try to control her, but she turns from me.

"How? Wh-wh-why are you here?" She stammers.

"For you, of course. I wanted you to have a great birthday." I lick the frosting from knife and set it down. I sit her slice on a plate and dip the candle to the larger one she had lit. I can't control myself as I grab her head and press my claws into her scalp, greedily filling myself on her negative emotions and anguish. She convulses under my hands as I greedily take all the memories and energy that I want. My eyes roll back as pleasure courses through my veins along with all that gourmet grief. I feel full, and new. I feel satisfied for the first time in decades.

She will not remember anything I took. Perhaps with her abusive father, pitiful childhood and life of poverty and bullying, I have truly done her a favor. She comes back and blinks up at me with tearful eyes.

"What have you done to me? Something's not right. Did you hurt me? What's going on?" She stares at her surroundings as if being here for the first time.

"I made you well. I took away most of those hurtful moments in your life. I brought you food and company. I did all this good, all for you." I stare into her eyes as she takes me in. I pull back and hand her the cake with a lit candle. "Eat, Seraphine. Make a wish." I twirl the shiny dark green lock by her face around my finger. She blows out the candle, a lock of her fringe billowing with the smoke that wisps away.

"I wish you were real."