The Case of Arania Wolf

Chapter 1

1 Week Later

"Okay, Dad, let's try and avoid breaking the car," I groaned, trying to organize the trunk so more things could fit. There were still three bags, and the trunk couldn't even close.

My dad shrugged, rustling his graying blond hair. "Sorry, hon."

I sighed, but continued to try and push everything together tightly. Dad looked completely worn down, his wrinkles deepened and brown eyes sunk behind his bulky glasses. Trying to introduce the man to modern eye care had been hopeless for years, as he still carried around a pair of dorky hipster frames. Though he was scrawny enough to pull the look off, I didn't want him to think it was suitable for a single, 48 year old veterinarian.

Once I had the trunk closed shut, I yawned and stretched back. It had been a long time since we made such a big move. The last time was a result of my parent's divorce, decided after my mother had been discovered cuddling up at the local bar with a vodka tonic and a suitor half her age.

She was happily married now, though, living somewhere in Oregon.

With a sigh, I pulled my pastel pink hair up in a sloppy bun and headed for the passenger seat.

To find my big brother filling in the space.

"Seriously, Derek?" I moaned, hands on my hips. "I called shot gun. Right, dad?"

"Sorry, sis." said Derek. "The ol' man and I are having some quality father-son time. Ladies go in the back."

"You know," I started, opening the back door of our '98 Honda Civic. "You have to be smart to be a smart-ass, Derek. Otherwise you're just an ass."

Derek chuckled while I fused into the cramped back seat with Ava, my younger sister, ruffling her curly brown hair while she had her nose in one of the graphic novels I bought for her at Barnes and Noble. Honestly, the kid read more than my sixth grade English teacher.

If only she put as much effort into speaking as she did reading comics. "He-ya, Ava. Almost done with that volume, huh?"

She nodded.

"Well," I said, throwing my feet in the space between the driver's seat and the passenger, "How 'bout this...when we get to Charlotte, the first thing we'll look for is a book shop. That sound good?"

Ava grinned, and I rubbed my knuckles playfully against her head before drawing my headphones over my ears, bangs draped over my dark brown eyes like curtains.  I pretended to sleep while a soothing song hummed into my thoughts, drowning out the sound of the car pulling out of the driveway. The first drop of rain was followed by another, and soon the whole car was showered in glistening silver drops of water, running smoothly down the slim glass window.

It was my own fault Ava didn't speak anymore. After I went missing, Dad said she went completely mute. The doctors said her voice was fine, but the trauma of my disappearance had left her unable to speak. When I returned, she was still silent.

I couldn't bare to return to my school in Philly. To see friends who had likely moved on, who wouldn't know what to do with someone pronounced dead after four months of being M.I.A. So Dad thought it was the perfect chance to move. He had an job offer in Charlotte, and there was a house up for sale not too far away from work. The school that I would be attending was fairly close as well, as was Ava's. So, without so much as a word, the four of us packed our stuff and prepared for a new and untainted life down south.

I smiled to myself at the irony the rain asserted, the very hilarity of the position I was in. Here I was, head pressed to the window, thinking of how demented my universe had become, and the sky had decided to cry over it's own consistent, never-ending paroxysm. The world was constantly defeating itself, battling it's own identity with its fits of insanity.

Deep, huh? But for me, it made perfect sense. I knew that feeling of weightlessness that only the sky might know. Ever since I came back, I felt like I was floating, staring down at the world as it continued to move forward. I wanted to feel the ground again, but I forgot what it felt like.

The rain didn't last long. It dissipated shortly after we got out of Philly, and for miles, there was nothing but silence and sunshine.