Ya know, I thought of something else I might like my father to know: it pisses me off when he steals my suffering, when he tries to claim it for his own. Like he blames himself, like it's all his fault and therefore his responsibility. Fuck that. I am who I am. And as far as I'm concerned, he may have no part of me.

Now on to this:

The knife drew blood. And as I sat there, feeling it drip down my naked back, I wondered if he'd lick it, wondered if he'd truly taste my pain. Vampyre fantasies. My blood finding its way into his blood and lurking; our blood mingling together for always. Yes, it felt like an eternity before his lips found my open wound, before his tongue started to lap up the iron thick liquid. And when the sucking started, I almost exploded with pleasure.

Um...yeah.
Laters