Blood is thicker than water, and twice as hard to get out in the wash. I learned this after that night. The blood of the vampires stained my clothes and I finally had to toss them. All save for that leather jacket I just couldn't part with. Right there on the shoulder was a deep dark stain, a stain I knew very well. It was David's blood. I wore it like a reminder of the man I fought hard to get away from but even in his death he was in my head.

When I wasn't wearing the jacket it hung over a char and that spot always drew in my attention. David was haunting me in my sleep. Though now, now I had seen David when I wide awake. I'm not sure if I am disturbed by it or not, part of me is comforted by it. It's a strange feeling for me it's almost like David's blood still ran through me. Like traces of him were left behind to remind me that no matter how hard I fought, I belonged with David and the boys. That I was always meant to join them.

No matter how hard I scrub I can never get rid of those traces left behind.

Michael Emerson // The Lost Boys // 209 Words.