Eclipse of the Heart

I'm not going to promise anything with this one, as it's not really meant to be anything a teen can't read. At least, not that I know of. This one is being written as it comes to me, so there is absolutely no set story line to it. Which, ultimately means that any and all suggestions are asked for, appreciated, and possibly used. I hope you like this...

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A chill wind slid across her face like the icy hand of the reaper who so long ago had forsaken her to this eternal damnation of an everlasting night. Winter was in the air. The first signs that the season of death was once again upon western New York.
She could feel true dawn approaching. It weighed heavily on her shoulders like the winter jacket she was wearing. She didn't have long to get to her lair.
Lair... Was it really a lair? No. Not really. Unless you call an older, turn of the century, northern Victorian house a lair. She burst through the front door just as the sun began peeking its first bands of light over the horizon, securing the vile sunlight on the other side of the door from her. It wouldn't be long now before she slept. But before that...
She moved along in the slowly lightening house, familiar with the placement of everything in it. In the inner hall, she found what she was looking for, the answering machine. Like usual, the red light was blinking merrily, indicating she had missed calls. She pressed the 'play' button in the lower left corner and listened to her own mechanical voice replaying the greeting, "Hi. You've reached the home of Lani Ross. I'm sorry I can't talk to you right now, but leave your message and a number and I'll get back to you as soon as I get a free chance. Have a great day."
Olanita flopped down in the overstuffed armchair near the stairs, after pulling off her coat and tossing it across the chair's back, listening silently as the messages played back in their tinny little recorded voices. As yet another bill collector left his number, she closed her eyes and groaned. Tonight had been a terribly busy one. The last thing she wanted to think about was the electric bill or one of her credit card accounts.
As if that simple thought was a prompt, the voice of Olanita's closest friend, Caiden, came over the machine's speakers. She opened her eyes as she listened to his cheery voice tell her he would be at her house just after true dark to take her out. Again, she groaned. She had told Caiden millions of times over the years that she didn't like going out. The less people saw her, the less they could get suspicious about her. But, like all men, he never listened to her.
Groaning for a third time, Lani pushed herself out of her chair, completely ignoring any of the other missed calls, and began climbing the stairs to the second story of her house. She so did not want to deal with Caiden in the coming darkness. She silently cursed herself for ever agreeing to give him her work schedule.
As she moved about the upper level of her home, she began peeling off layers of clothing. First to go was her big downy sweater. She really didn’t need it, but it helped with the illusion of normality. And that, above all else, was something she wanted to keep for a little while longer. After the sweater, she stopped at her bathroom and pulled off her socks and t-shirt, depositing all articles of clothing into her hamper.
She looked in the mirror and grumbled. She hated not being able to see how good or bad she really looked. She hadn’t seen her own face for almost three hundred years. This in itself was disturbing to her on days. She had seen so much happen in that time. She’d had countless friends and loved ones leave her in one form or another for two hundred and seventy-seven years. She shook her head, not wanting to think about that before bed, either.
With that going through her head, she made her way to her bedroom, flicking on the light so she could get her pajamas on. She moved to the dresser, opening the middle top drawer, pulling out an over-long green night shirt. Nothing special about it, other than it was the most comfortable piece of clothing she owned. Slipping off the rest of her clothes, she slipped on her shirt and walked the room, crawling into her huge four-poster bed.
Sighing, she reached over and flicked the light back off. As she lay there, her stuffed polar bear under one arm, she had to smile into the darkness. Most of her kind slept in dark, dank holes, underground. Not her. She slept on the second floor of a house, in a bed, like a normal person. Whereas others like her used their burial boxes with a bit of soil in the lining, she just put the soil in her mattresses. Why live like a rat just because you need a little dirt? With that thought, she felt the sun pop over the horizon and then she remembered no more.