I wrote this based on a daily prompt from The Daily Post: The Art of the Open Letter. Some of you will understand why I wrote it.
August 13, 2013
Your fixation on my blood has become quite disturbing. You lie in wait, watching, hovering until my scent elicits action. The covert attacks happen anywhere and everywhere. In my house. On the screened in patio. In the yard. While writing, shopping, eating, sleeping, swimming.
You have hurt me deeply, repeatedly. Large welts, itchy, red, inflamed for days on end. Your vampiric feedings have kept me awake at night and caused allergic reactions that have sent me to the hospital.
I have tried everything to deter you. Foggers, citronella, fabric softener sheets, fans, DEET, picaridin. Doesn’t matter. You find that one microscopic area of unprotected flesh and chow down.
Perhaps I should feel flattered that you love and need me so much for the survival of your species, but I don’t. I’m disgusted by your disease carrying, life-sucking, habitual breeding greediness. The next time you come, I will destroy you. I will not feel remorse or regret. Consider this your one warning.
Quit stalking me.