Life Sucks but Loves Bites (Re-Editing)

Wine Tasting

Vanessa's POV

After my extremely long, car-less, run home my feet throbbed and my forearms hurt like a mother. I went into the dark kitchen and pulled out a glass and filled it with cool refreshing water. I lifted the glass to my dry lips and sucked it dry within a few short seconds. I refilled my drink a few more time before I finally quenched my thirst and place the glass in the marble sink. I looked around the dim lighted kitchen and wondered where my parents were. I couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that kept gnawing at the back of my head.

I opened my mouth to call them but when I did I realized that my throat felt like sand paper. Obviously I was still parched. I extended my arm and grabbed my discarded glass then refilled it again with water. I began to drain the glass of its continents when I looked over the rim and saw a note hanging on the fridge. I placed my drink on the counter and pulled the small note off the fridge. It was addressed to me and I quickly noticed that the note was written in my mother’s hand writing.

Hey darling! Your father was over at the Tyler's mansion and accidently bit into onion ring thinking it was one of those chicken rings we got from 'Tosca Kay' last winter. So now I'm driving the idiot to Dr. Ivan. Did you know that he moved? To Idaho? Who the heck would want to move there? Well, anyway it's going to be a while till we come back so get into as much trouble as possible and please don't disappoint me. I didn't raise you to be a goody two shoes so show me what you're made of kiddo. Oh yeah, make sure you don't forget to lock the door on your way out and make sure that your new friend is getting plenty to drink. You know the consequences if he doesn’t get enough.

Love your ever bothersome mother.

I rolled my eyes and let out a slow sigh.

That's mom for ya'

I folded the small letter and shoved it into my back pocket. The thought of icy blues eyes came into my mind. I was supposed to be getting Vic his…Meds. Somehow the fact he needed blood annoyed me. I shook off that feeling instantly and traveled out of the kitchen and opened a hard woodened door hidden off in the dim lighted hallway. I opened that door and felt around the wall until I found what I was looking for. I flicked on the stairway lights and began to make my way down them. The steps creaked and groaned under my weight as I hopped off the planks of wood.

I was now in our family's wine cellar. This was the only place in the entire household that had not been remodeled or modified since the late 1700's. The floor was composed of dirt and dust, while our so called 'wine' was stored up on shelves or whatever it is you call them. I grabbed three bottles off the rack, all of them from 1987 with a label printed over it in which I didn't even attempt to try and pronounce. I dug my nail into the cork of one and popped it open to take a long swing. The contents of the bottle trickled down my still dry throat. It was thick, warm, and appeased my apatite that I didn't know I had. I brought the bottle away from my tingling lips and wiped my mouth off with the sleeve of my shirt.

I traveled back up the old set of stairs and hit the light switch, then watched as the lights flickered off before I made my to the kitchen to retrieve my backpack and loaded it with two of the three bottles. I then through my bag over my shoulder and took another long gulp out of the wine bottle. I then bolted out the door with my new found energy. Quickstep to school here I come.

I stopped dead on my front porch and almost dropped the wine bottle. There in my drive way was my baby. My shining brand new silver jag was waiting in my driveway. On the windshield was a note addressed to me. I dashed towards my car and tore the paper off the widow. I then read,

Sorry for the damage to the wheels but there all better now and we even sprayed the seat with a candy apple perfume to mask any scents my boys man have left behind.