Decathect (Niall Horan)

Wanderlust..

Where I live, there is a myth called “The Celtic Breed.” Based from the Mountains and forests of Northern Ireland. These.. “Creatures” as you could say were basically dogs. Bigger, meaner and furrier dogs. In the late 1800’s there was an incident where a woman got attacked by, “A dog bear.” But, please, enlighten me on what a dog bear really is. She was said to have mutated into a dog. 7 ft. tall, 12 ft. long and dinner plate big paws. But, how real does that sound? She would change from woman, back to dog when mad, or trained to do so. People abandoned her when she was bitten. And by the time she died, there were more like her.  I was always intrigued by myths. Like, Slender Man, Mermaids, Bigfoot. Every time asked to write a persuasive paper, it would be on facts on why you should believe them. C+ was the best I ever got. So when my father and I moved to Ireland from America, I knew I could look into more myths of Ireland. Maybe getting into my writing again. Maybe even writing a novel. Yes, creative writing. Fiction is my specialty.

So into the present, driving to a new destination, the Irish air is wonderful. It’s very green, in Ireland and that’s how it’s supposed to be, I guess. In my fathers Range Rover, we drove and drove. Belfast would be me –our- new home. Would I like it? Of course. I loved traveling. I had an incurable case of wanderlust. I had seen our house on the internet before dad bought it. I liked it, and I knew it would fill that empty void I was feeling. I loved watching the scenery fly passed us as we sped down the road. I was observant, my dad would say. I could see things other people didn’t. Well, they could, but they wouldn’t acknowledge it was there. So when I walked into my new house, and explored, I knew the attic was my place. It was sort of like one of those rooms from a magazine. One that you could put up Christmas lights and cool paintings with rugs all over, and a nice queen size bed by the horizon shaped window at the end of the room. I knew it was perfect for me and my little gadgets.

I set my laptop down on my bed and put my bag down. “Sophia!” I heard from below. I climbed down the ladder and was face to face with my creator. “Yeah daddy?” I asked. My dad was one who worked late in the night on something that would surprise you when it was finished. He was an artist, and he would never let you see what he was making until it was hung up on the wall, or put in the corner.

“I need you to help me bring in the wolf sculpture. Please.” I sighed. Out of the many times I have moved and helped move that sculpture was beyond me. It was too many to count.

 As I lifted the base of the piece of art, I noticed a dog running past me, chasing something, a cat maybe? I watched as it sprinted off down the road, it didn’t look like a normal dog, it was bigger and hairier. Hmm.