Chapter 6 The Encounter
I don’t know why I didn’t leave with her. Maybe I was more used to being with normal people, to talk and do things with them; perhaps it sounded ludicrous, but I hoped it was true.
When you hid deep inside the mountains and closed the curtains as if they were trees, when you never associated with people anymore, when no one looked for you even if you rotted, you realized loneliness was a way of life. If you ever wanted to open the curtains and leave, to be a part of people’s normal lives, you’d find human relationships to be as complex as they were simple to others. You’d soon know that, without friends and family, no matter how many people surrounded you, you were a lonely ghost.
I closed the back door and sat down in the south-facing chair, looking at the main door, and waited for the storm. It was quiet now, but it wasn’t the kind of quiet I liked nor belonged to me.
While I was pondering the quiet, the door was pushed ajar. A tall shadow appeared before me. It belonged to a young man. He seemed to be prepared; being stared at didn’t faze him. He walked before me naturally, as if we were meeting at a coffee house. He quickly sat down.
“You should say something!” I said coldly after staying quiet at first.
“Should I have said ‘Sorry for the wait?’” he retorted.
“How long were you going to make me wait?”
“Three questions. After you answer them, I’ll take you home.”
“The first question?”
“Who are you?”
“Lin Jing!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for someone—she may not be a person anymore.”
“Did you find her?”
“I did.”
“Where is she now?”
“This is a fourth question. I don’t need to answer it.” I got up to leave.
He stopped me. “Let me take you home.”
“No need. I know the way. I never asked you to take me home, anyway.” I took the dark mountain road.
It was deep in the night as I hiked along the winding road. The only sounds were that of some small animals nearby, and those were mostly quiet. I liked this kind of quiet; it was pleasurable to me.
“Going home by yourself must be lonely!” a laughing voice sounded in the forest.
“You think I’m human?” I asked.
“Perhaps!” came the reply after a while.
“You’re also here, right?” I kept marching, and she followed. Both of us walked quickly. I wanted to go home to sleep; why was she rushing?
“You’re walking me all the way home?” I asked.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to be home to get some rest.” Her words were punctuated with that annoying laugh of hers.
“You have a home?” I asked coolly.
“Why can’t I have a home if you have a home?” I could tell she wasn’t really mad, just exchanging words with me.
“Didn’t you say I may be human? Humans must have homes. But you’re royalty. Do royals have homes?” I had to analyze it for her.
“Royals also need a place for a bed.”
“You mean a coffin? You just need a cemetery. That wouldn’t be right in a room, would it?” I spoke naturally about unnatural things.
“You . . . you’re so annoying this way. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend,” she fought back.
“Vampires are always lonely,” I said with resignation and sadness.
“That’s why I looked for you. Ha-ha!” She started laughing again. The sound at night, on a mountain road, was not at all soothing.
“Are we family? Hah!” I marveled, and actually started laughing. I walked faster. I knew she was further and further away and I was getting closer to home.
Looking back, what happened that night was free of major conflicts and dramatic partings; the ones I met didn’t leave a clear impression, but I remembered the details. I do not know why. Maybe they were memorable like the fallen leaves on a lake.
Chapter 6 The Encounter
I don’t know why I didn’t leave with her. Maybe I was more used to being with normal people, to talk and do things with them; perhaps it sounded ludicrous, but I hoped it was true.
When you hid deep inside the mountains and closed the curtains as if they were trees, when you never associated with people anymore, when no one looked for you even if you rotted, you realized loneliness was a way of life. If you ever wanted to open the curtains and leave, to be a part of people’s normal lives, you’d find human relationships to be as complex as they were simple to others. You’d soon know that, without friends and family, no matter how many people surrounded you, you were a lonely ghost.
I closed the back door and sat down in the south-facing chair, looking at the main door, and waited for the storm. It was quiet now, but it wasn’t the kind of quiet I liked nor belonged to me.
While I was pondering the quiet, the door was pushed ajar. A tall shadow appeared before me. It belonged to a young man. He seemed to be prepared; being stared at didn’t faze him. He walked before me naturally, as if we were meeting at a coffee house. He quickly sat down.
“You should say something!” I said coldly after staying quiet at first.
“Should I have said ‘Sorry for the wait?’” he retorted.
“How long were you going to make me wait?”
“Three questions. After you answer them, I’ll take you home.”
“The first question?”
“Who are you?”
“Lin Jing!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for someone—she may not be a person anymore.”
“Did you find her?”
“I did.”
“Where is she now?”
“This is a fourth question. I don’t need to answer it.” I got up to leave.
He stopped me. “Let me take you home.”
“No need. I know the way. I never asked you to take me home, anyway.” I took the dark mountain road.
It was deep in the night as I hiked along the winding road. The only sounds were that of some small animals nearby, and those were mostly quiet. I liked this kind of quiet; it was pleasurable to me.
“Going home by yourself must be lonely!” a laughing voice sounded in the forest.
“You think I’m human?” I asked.
“Perhaps!” came the reply after a while.
“You’re also here, right?” I kept marching, and she followed. Both of us walked quickly. I wanted to go home to sleep; why was she rushing?
“You’re walking me all the way home?” I asked.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to be home to get some rest.” Her words were punctuated with that annoying laugh of hers.
“You have a home?” I asked coolly.
“Why can’t I have a home if you have a home?” I could tell she wasn’t really mad, just exchanging words with me.
“Didn’t you say I may be human? Humans must have homes. But you’re royalty. Do royals have homes?” I had to analyze it for her.
“Royals also need a place for a bed.”
“You mean a coffin? You just need a cemetery. That wouldn’t be right in a room, would it?” I spoke naturally about unnatural things.
“You . . . you’re so annoying this way. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend,” she fought back.
“Vampires are always lonely,” I said with resignation and sadness.
“That’s why I looked for you. Ha-ha!” She started laughing again. The sound at night, on a mountain road, was not at all soothing.
“Are we family? Hah!” I marveled, and actually started laughing. I walked faster. I knew she was further and further away and I was getting closer to home.
Looking back, what happened that night was free of major conflicts and dramatic partings; the ones I met didn’t leave a clear impression, but I remembered the details. I do not know why. Maybe they were memorable like the fallen leaves on a lake.
