Another school year is coming to a close. Another year of substitute teaching done and over. Before the year completely ends, I’d like to share an old post written last year when some fifth grade boys were concerned that their substitute teacher was a vampire…
Interview With Miss A (Vampire)
Having blood-sucking on the brain (and not because of the Twilight saga–though I’ll admit I enjoyed), I searched my studio folders for Him. I scoured my old Prentice Hall, graphic files. When I was a newbie Mac user learning Adobe Illustrator, I drew everything using old-fashioned, hand/eye coordination with a mouse and a prayer.
That year I’d also read, Interview With The Vampire by the immortal’s mortal, Anne Rice. Her words were composed of cold flesh. Blood flowed between the rivers of white on her pages. I hated Ms. Rice. I was in awe of Ms. Rice. This ‘Interview’ creeped me out like no other book… Everywhere I traveled, Lestat stalked me with his mesmerizing lost eyes, black sinewy veins and pale moon skin.
He was one of my first ventures into computer portraiture. I had no choice but to create Him. He wouldn’t leave my mind. He was a tormenting fellow. He’d bite me nightly and I suffer daily for it. He was the awesome Vampire Lestat. Once I created Him, He no longer haunted my dreams.
I was recently subbing in a fifth grade class. At lunchtime, I noticed a handful of lads with perplexed expressions staring at me. I approached the group to make sure everything was okay. One boy–the ring leader–studied me a moment before asking, “Miss A, are you a vampire?”
Before I could respond he continued, “Why do you have such sharp black eyebrows, long black hair and pointy teeth?” (for the record, my incisors are a tad sharp-looking).
I jokingly responded, “YES!” But, then quickly clarified, “Just kidding, boys,” when they started wrapping napkins around their jugulars. The last thing I needed was for a child to go home and say, “my sub was a vampire,” even if it was kinda funny.
Later, I contemplated what the fifth grader had asked me. I thought about the boys’ nervous little expressions–and I honestly wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or insulted.
uncle vam – prisma blood-sucked to life a few months back, previously published