Footsteps. Running. Gravel. Hard. Breathing hard. An itch to growl lingering still in the back of my throat. I was back to normal, that’s how my mum would put it. She had always said she was meant to have a boy, and when the signs that I’d follow the family shift began to show, her disappointment only increased.
Braveclaw was my wolve’s name. She was brave and I was not. She was always hungry, I always thought of food as fuel. She was in love with everyone from the clan, I was in love with the idea of getting a college degree or my more imminent goal of surviving high school.
She was pretty and I was a lanky teenager. My pale skin made me look unhappy – I mean like always, and I had the most awful thin lip that never altered from the way I drew stick figured people as a kid.
My only saving grace was becoming Braveclaw. I would sing that tacky Hannah Montana, “Best of Both Worlds”, tune in my head and be ever so delighted as my wolf cringed internally in sheer embarrassment.
I was foretold to have a great destiny filled to the brim with mention of death defying situations, where I battled with a superior foe but still managed to survive. I didn’t know about all that, but I did manage to complete a shift at the cafe without breaking a plate last week, so there was that.
My mother argued with the elders saying I couldn’t be the white wolf, the one that saved them from the demon. She was wrong in the end, I fell in love with the demon, he ate my soul and took my wolf as his slave!
No, not really but his name is Pete and he doesn’t know that I know and I don’t feel like telling anyone because this was like the most exciting thing to have happened to me since…have I already mentioned the not breaking plates thing?
Yeah, right, so I started spending more and more time with Pete. I could tell he was trying to cover up his master every time he talked into a pool of liquid, but in all seriousness, you would think that a demon would have a better method than the outrageous task of talking to a blood offering in a cup. And when I say cup I literally mean it was nothing cool, just a plastic one you could get from Coles for like 25-cents.
Anyway, I couldn’t keep feigning utter stupidity as my wolf was abusing me every chance she got. So I mentioned it to the elders, let my wolf loose on him and now I’ve broken three dishes and my average friends said we’d go see a movie next week. My wolf howled and I couldn’t help but agree, but then she started chasing a butterfly, all gleeful and I thought I’d just add that to the list of things we so do not have in common.
If this went on I just wanted to be bitten by a vampire or something and turn into a mutant.
~ Written by Stephanie Kentepozidis