I no longer sit in the corner of my bedroom, scared, hopeless waiting for her next blow. Her red eyes seemed to follow me everywhere. Judging me for every little thing I did wrong. I’ve paid my dues, have you? Through my pain, I’ve held my head high, stood on my own two feet. I’ve been held back, told I’m too young, been maybe to living in fear but no more. I’m wild.I’ve been promised things and no one seems to be true to them. Just stuck in my hopeless fantasy, my unforgiving daydream. Believing, wishing for a perfect life of a normal teenager. But will I ever get that? No. That’s the simple answer. Nothing in my life is perfect, it’s far from it. I’m wild. I use to walk through life un- noticed, knowing that no one cared for me. Not even Dad. The one person I thought I could trust, believe, put all my hopes and dreams in. You’re probably thinking this ‘who is she?’ ‘Why is she here?’ ‘Why is she telling me all of this?” I’ll tell you why. I’m wild.I’m going to tell you a story. A dark, twisted tale of hope, betrayal, love, lies and things that are meant to be real. Creatures of night; the things of old fashioned horror movies. Soulless, heartless beings. Claws, fangs and blood. A wild tale. As I tell you this, blood is covering white sheets of a poor helpless girl who didn’t know who she was taking home. Screams are muffled by a pillow as these creatures ripped the flesh off a child’s bones. Claws of the friend he thought he could trust trailed down a man’s chest, tearing skin from his chest. Wild and reckless killers.Creatures of the night aren’t to be scared off. Unless their after you. Unless they want you DEAD. Scared is one thing I’ve never been until now. Now I’m wanted dead.
The thing is though I’ve never been scared of wolves.
Not since I heard my first bed time story about one. There’s something about them that I find beautiful. Their power, their fur, those eyes. But never in my life would I have ever dreamed of meeting the children of the moon. It’s like chasing the white rabbit down the hole. Just a fantasy. Standing eye to eye with them, their eyes all shades and all tell a different story. It’s the thing of fairy tales; make believe so to speak. These nothing that school every taught me that explains them. No logic, no science, no real explanation. But that’s before I met him. His shaggy black hair, his piercing green eyes, his heart warming smile. I knew we were met for each other.
