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Can Jennifer tell her parents that she has a boyfriend?

What was out there? My heart screamed danger, but my mind said something different, an animal or a person. I reasoned with myself there was no such thing as witches and vampires or ghosts. For some reason, though, I did not want to believe myself. I sat there until the dark was almost complete, my body screaming at me. I was unable to respond.

I felt a presence to my left on the bench and turned and opened my eyes. What I saw made my feelings even more a mystery to me. I wanted to touch him, feel his cold skin. His beauty was something before which I had never seen. He was a stunning porcelain doll, sitting beside me, making no sound, looking at me with animated eyes from a still, mannequin-like face. I reached my hand up and touched his face gently with the tip of my index finger.


My mind and body screeched at me to flee. My heart beat out of my chest and I must have jumped high enough I slid from the bench to the ground. The dull thump of my body against the pavement no more than a whisper to me, yet a crack of thunder to him. I swallowed hard and reached tentatively for my purse, watching him as he watched me. I took the bag and stood, then backed away, watching him the entire time.

I had managed to back a few feet before something attracted my attention and I turned for a split second. When I turned back, he was gone. My breath caught in my chest.

Gone. Finally.

My entire body relaxed then, my head dropped and my eyes closed, the sigh whooshed from my body as I turned to walk back to my dorm room. I had taken just one step and then opened my eyes when the man was in front of me again. I inhaled sharply, in my fear, I could not even scream.

His face was too beautiful, too perfect. He raised his finger slowly and placed it across his lips and a thin stream of air hissed from his lungs. He then smiled slightly and held his hand out to me. I faltered back a step and my hand went for the hollow of my throat before I could stop it. He followed the motion, tilting his head a little as if curious why I was afraid of him. His hand remained extended as though he expected me to take it. I reached out and touched the coldness of his hand and shuddered as he closed it over mine. He then led me across the lot, away from the dorm buildings, and into the woods across the street.

My heart was beating so hard and so fast I thought it would burst in my chest. My God, he was cold. He felt colder than my grandfather's forehead before they buried him. I shivered and forced myself to look at him. His face was friendly, although I was still frightened of him. His face was a ghostly white with dark, dark eyes. I could not exactly see them, but they were so dark I would think them to be black. His hair was also a deep dark black; it almost appeared to be blue. It was so long it touched the backs of his knees. Two locks fell over his shoulders and only touched the ends of his ribs.

His clothes, I finally noticed, were old. He was wearing a long coat, a deep grey in color, and the tails down to mid-calf. There were three gold clasps in the front, holding it closed over one of the old poet's shirts. He wore a deep blue sash around his waist and lighter blue, form fitting pants. He looked as though he had stepped out of a history novel. I swallowed and walked with him to wherever he decided to lead me.

We reached a small clearing in the middle of the woods where a small picnic had been set and he gestured for me to sit. As I did, so he sat, and offered me food. I accepted it, as I was very hungry. I had not eaten since breakfast that morning. The sandwiches were my favorite kind: sugar cured honey ham with baby Swiss cheese on white bread. I ate two of them with an orange and a peach and drank the fruit juice he offered as he watched me, never saying a word.

After I had eaten and was quite full, he smiled at me and sighed.

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