It’s important for me to remain invisible. Impossible? Well, you’re right, it is impossible. So I do my best.

As a young wallflower, I was exceptional.  When I grew older, I’ll admit I didn’t want to be so invisible. Until I met him and then I met them. It’s complicated, as they used to say. I’ll try to be brief. Why? Well, there’s a trick to being nearly invisible. Keep moving. I learned that almost too late. I’ll forget it someday, out of exhaustion.

I mentioned I was a wallflower. Yeah, it was painful through my teen years and the surrounding girls in my high school weren’t too kind. Sure, I had core friends, one especially, Jennifer. She’ll picture in later.

So, during my wallflower years I read lots of novels and decided I liked to read. I went to a higher end but smaller college back east and something happened. My skin cleared up, I lost weight, and even my parents were hesitant when I came home for Christmas. After four years at said college I decided I wanted to teach literature on a higher level and by golly I started in for my PhD. What a ride, except for a major interruption.

Now this may sound petty, but a highlight for me was my 10-year high school reunion. Yup, I dressed it up and walked in on demure and smiling. No one knew me, but I made sure that I met all the thick-waisted moms who tormented me in the hallways. I didn’t speak to them, just their balding husbands. I stayed maybe an hour when who should walk in but my old friend Jennifer.

Jennifer had changed from thick glasses, long straight hair, and dowdy dresses to a sleek, slender, gorgeous woman in high heels and tight jeans. What changed the most was the tall, dark stranger who escorted her in. We hugged, cried, and laughed at our own petty drama. Her boyfriend stood and smiled at us like a benevolent older uncle. We left the school gym and met at a local bar. Her boyfriend wasn’t with her?

“Was he a prop?” I asked.

“No. Well, sort of. We… travel together.”

“Where did you meet?”

“College. He’s a professor. You know my attraction for older men.”

“No, I didn’t realize that, but you were always sort of secretive.”

“Are you staying with your parents?” Jennifer asked. The question gave me a chill.

“No,” I lied, “they moved to Florida.”  My parents would no more think of moving to Florida than they would move to Alaska, but I felt a quiver of distrust. Suddenly Jennifer looked like a wax figure; beautiful and unchangeable. We seemed to realize at once a chill; she was my enemy and I hers.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way,” Jennifer’s voice was suddenly a hiss and snake like. “It’s the good and evil thing you understand.” She left the table and walked away. Her friend was waiting outside.

I sat in that bar all night. I panicked when I had to leave, so hustled to the nearest church. Closed. Dark. I saw shadows everywhere. They met me outside Saint Monica’s. What choice did I have but to join them?

“Is she a vampire?” I asked.

“A demon. Her choice. We work to eliminate them.”

“Eliminate?”

“Yes.” The man in black stared at me without blinking. It was a test, I know.

“I’m in,” I said.

Sure, my immediate family knows. It’s not so bad. The old buildings, the ancient writings, all appeal to me. I’ve been around the world and I’m on my third workable language. You wouldn’t believe how evil gets around. If I make it to 55, I’m automatically retired to a basement somewhere in Paris or Rome, they won’t tell me. I don’t blame them. It won’t be bad, the daylight still means freedom in this fight.

Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting Jennifer again. Life could have been a little different; I could have been teaching fiction, not living it.