-ducks overripe fruit from the goths-

Title: Diary of a Teenage Vampire
Type: Original Fiction
Rating/Genre: PG-13, General/Humor
Disclaimer: N/A
Warning/Comments: No warnings this time, except that if you can't take comments about the goth sub-culture, please don't bother me about it. Personally, I think goth guys are Teh OMG Uber Hot, but uh... my new character disagrees. FornowIthink. I can't decide whether to try and make this a serial or not. And it kinda sucks, but it was written at 3:30 AM?
Summary (Optional): Not all vampires wear corsets and have pale, porcelain skin...



Dear Diary:

Vampires are overly romanticised. For one, there's the myth that once you become one, you suddenly become a beacon of hotness and no one of the opposite gender (or somethimes your owm) can ever resist you, which is bull-shit. Yeah, your skin gets paler, and for some reason or another, you no longer have to worry about pimple, but other than that, there's not miraculous transformation. For instance, my hair is still lanky, dirty-blonde, and I'm still horribly flat-chested. Yeah diary. What a let down.

The people at school just think I'm sick which makes sense, since I'm pale all the time now. In fact, I'm guessing becoming a vampire made me even less attractive, as I don't have the right coloring to look pale. I don't go porcelain white and flawless, just a dingy color like someone who needs to see a doctor.

Another reason goths have it all wrong is the actual getting-bitten deal. For one, it's not like making hot, steamy love (not that'd I'd know or anything), but rather, it hurts like hell. Think: getting stabbed with a couple pencils in your neck, and then having a vacuum set to the wound. Oh yes, diary, just orgasmic.

Once you become a vampire, your clothes don't magically become lacy, Victorian-era corsets and gowns. I still wear clothes from three years ago, and the ones I buy new are from Wal-Mart. I don't suddenly have pouty red lips and entrancing eyes, and I'm not morose and quiet now. In fact, I might just be the anti-goth in some ways. For instance, I'm prefer to not bemoan the futility of life, and I hate poetry with a passion. I also like wearing clothes with color on them.

Personally, I think goths are stupid and irritating. They have this lame superiority complex about them, and have occasionally called me rude names, which I didn't appriciate. They also seem to think that they alone have feelings, and everyone else is just shallow. And don't forget, normal people are all the same, it's the just the color-coordinated, nearly uniformed goths who are unique.

But anyways, I digress. It's just that it's always the goths with the vampire books and the bad poetry, and now that I myself am a vampire, I naturally take offence to such things.

Or maybe I'm just bitter that when I changed, it was not orgasmic, did not make me into a sultry sex-goddess, and was in general very disappointing, frightening, and painful. Stop laughing at me, you inanimate object, you.

By the way, I don't have a master-submissive thing going on with the guy who bit me, either. One, he was butt ugly, two he was older than my father, and three... just no.

So, now that we've disproved the myths surrounding vampires, let's get to the point.

One, I'd better introduce myself, since I hadn't already. My name is Ashley Pennington, and at school, I'm often referred to as 'The Other Ashley'. This is because there are six Ashley's. There's the smart Ashley, the preppy Ashley, the slutty Ashlie, the ghetto Ashlee, the gothic Ashleigh, and then me, the other one. It gets annoying, because there's at least one other Ashley in all my classes, so you never know who the teacher is calling on. A few people call me Pen to help clear things up. I don't mind, I like ink pens.

Anyways diary. I guess I'll write more tomorrow. Because, as much fun as it is talking to you about what school is vaugely like, a bit about my new species, and detailing the trillion other Ashley's, I have things to see, and people to do.

I'm kidding, mom. Stop reading my diary.