the wolf ; rigel wilde

i. immediate hatred

❝ Don't look back, you're not going that way ❞

ten years ago
Amaya

As I stepped out of the car, clutching my belongings, I looked up at the iron gates. A shiver ran down my spine as I noticed how dark and sad the orphanage looked. The gates screeched as they opened, echoing into the distance. Why was pthis place so secluded I thought, as I looked at my surroundings. I had come to realise that the orphanage was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by acres of trees beyond the eye could see.

I made my way through the courtyard, my legs carrying me forward, but my mind was telling me to turn around, leave this place and never return. But I couldn't. Mother and father wouldn't want that for me, they wouldn't be happy knowing I had escaped a place that would serve as some sort of solace for my loneliness. But would they be happy knowing how gloomy and miserable this place seemed?

I miss them. My memories with them, and with my brother, live on in my mind, acting as a small light of happiness in a world that seemed so lonely since they had left. I was never the same since that day, the day that changed my life completely. If I closed my eyes, I could still see the flares engulfing my home, I could still hear my parents screams as part of the roof fell, probably hitting them and burning them alive. My parents had been quick to get me out of the house, depositing me on the side of the road before going back in the get my brother, Milo.

The neighbours, noticing the flames, had called the fire department, and had come outside to keep me safe. The fire trucks sirens started to approach, and I watched as some ran into the house, while other started to extinguish the fire with the water hoses; but the flames were too strong, and soon enough, the fire fighters came running out of the house to assist their colleagues.

I frantically looked between the burning house and the fire fighters. Where are my parents? Where's Milo? Why hadn't they come out with them? The events went by in a blur, place officers, paramedics, neighbours had joined outside to aid me, but I couldn't muster any response to their questions and worries.

A young woman, a police officer, crouched down in front of me, obstructing my view of the house, now mostly grey ash. "Are you Amaya, dear?" the woman's voice was calm and smooth, trying to help subside my frantic mind. I nodded, no words leaving my throat, as much as I wanted to speak. She nodded softly, looking at her colleague, who had a sorrowful look in his eyes. "Did your parents go back into the house?" A flashback, the image of my parents entering the flames flashed in my mind. "Yes. They went in to get my brother." My voice was hushed, barely more than a whisper.

As the woman continued to ask me questions, my eyes averted to the people, walking in and out of the ashes of what was once my home. The one place that held the memories I had with my family. Playing in the garden with Milo. Cooking in the kitchen with my parents. My eyes stayed trained as the professionals came walking out with a white long bag, then another, and another. 1, 2, 3. Mum, dad, Milo. The police officer had now noticed my vacant eyes, looking towards the three body bags on the site of the wreckage. She let out a sigh before turning back to me.

My eyes brimmed with tears, one sliding down my cheek as I came to realise how grave my situation was. They were gone. Dead. They weren't coming back. A part of me died that day, sat on the curd, watching my life change completely. But that was in the past, and as much as it hurt me to remember, there was nothing I could do to bring them back. All I couldn't do was hold onto the small moments I had shared with them.

I made my way through the courtyard of the orphanage, towards a group of children with a woman standing in the middle of them. Once I had stopped in front of them, the woman spoke up, "You must be Amaya. I'm Mrs. Margaret, headmistress of Sunnycreek Orphanage." The woman's voice echoed around the open space, bouncing off the stone walls, "Here we abide by the rules of order, respect and obedience. Everything belongs to everyone, including your bracelet."

Her words made me clutch the piece of jewellery around my wrist. It had been a gift from my mother for my birthday. A moon and cloud pendent hung from the sliver chain, both pieces symbolising my name, Amaya, which meant night rain. The moon symbolising night, and the cloud for rain.

"But my mother gave it to me." I looked up at the woman with pleading eyes. The bracelet was one of the only physical memories I had of my mother. Mrs. Margaret noticed my hesitance in handing it over, turning to look at a boy standing beside her. His features were striking; long dark hair, a sharp jaw and a cleft chin, and eyes that felt like they had pierced through my soul the moment he looked at me.

"Rigel." With that command, he stepped forward, removing the bracelet from the wrist and enclosing it in the palm of his hand. My skin suddenly felt hot to the touch, and I could still feel his hand on mine form seconds ago. But with that one action, I despised him. How could he take away the one thing that kept me linked to my mother. Did he have feelings? Couldn't he feel an ounce of empathy?

After the woman's introduction, she instructed a young girl, Cecilia, to take me to my bed. The girl pushed her auburn out of her eyes as she led me down the somber corridors. I looked around, room full of beds, each one identical to the next. The orphanage looked more like an asylum or a hospital the anything else. The place reeked of misery and desolation, making me curl into myself in fear that the ambience would infect me.

Once we had reached my bed, I placed my bag on the bed before turning towards the girl, "How long have you been here for?" I questioned quietly. Her deep green eyes met mine, a sad glow in them. "Six years." She replied, looking down at her hands in her lap. She was shy, just like me. I liked that about her. "You haven't been adopted?" I looked at Cecilia, genuinely curious as to why she had been at the orphanage for so long but had never been adopted. Her auburn locks fell in front of her eyes, her lip quivering, "They think I'm ugly, no one wants to adopt an ugly baby." Instinctively, I placed my hand on her, attempting to comfort her. Her emotions seemed to morph when my hand met hers, the corner of her lips turning up ever so slightly.

"You're not ugly." I smiled at her, relishing in the commiseration of having a friend. Father would be happy. I looked around, another question coming to mind, "Has it always been this gloomy here?" A frown formed on the girls face, making me raise an eyebrow and look at her intently. Her demeanour had changed completely, like a dark thunder cloud has casted itself over her, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." I quickly added, not wanting to bring down the mood on my first day.

"We will be friends, right?" The girls question made the dark mood dissipate, which I was thankful for. I nodded my head, giving her the biggest smile I could muster, which in reality wasn't that big since I hadn't smiled in quite some time. It felt weird; smiling. The recent events had dragged me so far down into the dark whole that I couldn't even find the ladder to get back out. Maybe I'll be happy here. Or at least as happy as one can be in such a desolate place.

Me and Cecilia made our way to the hall for dinner, filing behind other child, trays in hand. For such a place, the food was surprisingly good. Once we had the food on our trays, we found a table in the corner. While we were eating, Rigel walked in. He scanned the room as he went to get his tray, his eyes locking with mine for mere seconds, before looking away. Just like before, I felt like his eyes had pierced through my soul, with such intensity that I feared he'd scarred me for life.

Turning to Cecilia, I asked, "Tell me about him." She looked over at the dark haired boy before answering me. "He came here the same year I did. Mrs. Margaret always treated him differently to us, he's the star child." I nodded, taking in her words. From the moment he had taken my bracelet, I could tell he was Mrs. Margaret's little pet, so to say. Seemed like he obeyed all her orders, and she was always nice to him. But when I looked into his eyes, they look blank, distant, like they had no spark left in them.

"How come he's still here? If he's such a good child, why hasn't anyone adopted him?" My eyes drew themselves to the boy again, observing him. It might have seemed strange, but I was genuinely curious about Rigel. "Many people have come to adopt him, but at the end of the trial period, he comes back. No one knows why." I think Rigel could sense me looking at him, catching my eyes on him before I could look away. He sent a disgusted look in my direction, making me look down at my plate of food. Whatever it was, he didn't seem to like me, I didn't like him either.

mari speaking !

Please keep in mind that any events in this book related directly to The Tearsmith, are related to the film and not the book, since i haven't read the book yet.