If, Lets Say, I Were a Werewolf...

Chapter Two: Memories Come Flooding In

    After a well deserved dinner and around two hours of unpacking, Chris found himself back in his bedroom. He still had nothing to rest on, except a stool in the corner. His room was the only one that hadn't been completely furnished. His eyes were still focused on the outside of his window. Of course he couldn't see much without his glasses on; he had laid them down somewhere downstairs, but he was too lazy to get them. After several minutes had gone by, Mom came in the room to make conversation.

    "Hey, Chris," she started, "By the looks of it, you're not liking it very well, are you?"

    "No, I'm not. It sucks here," he replied. He could tell that this conversation wasn't going to go smoothly. He noticed that his mom, too, was looking out the window. It was all you could do in that room. She was standing up because I had already taken the stool.

    "Watch your language, boy; I'm not too thrilled about this either - but your dad is excited about it so let him have his moment."

    Chris really didn't have anything to say. He wasn't the best child ever, so he didn't want to say "Yes, mother," or anything like that. Chris only nodded his head in agreement. 

    "Besides," she continued, "It's only a month. I'm sure we can handle it that long." She was playing with her hair, which she had curled before we left home. "I'm sure there will be a full moon out tonight. You like those, don't you, Chris?"

    "Really? Oh my gosh! I'm so excited!" Chris replied.

    "Your sarcasm is noted," his mom responded, even though Chris wasn't being sarcastic. She knew he loved full moons. She knew that they were the highlight of his night. She knew that Chris thought that full moons were the best thing the earth had to offer. She knew.

    Chris loved full moons, ever since childhood. Even when he was a baby in his mother's arms, he would point to the big white thing in the sky. He had believed that the moon was made of cheese for a long time, actually. He still likes to go on about that. Chris thought full moons were the most beautiful things in the world; no - galaxy; no! - universe. He thought full moons were the most beautiful things in the universe. 

    After his mom was done messing with her hair, she left. Chris began to hang up his picture frames. He had to argue with his dad to let him bring them. He pulled out a sketching of a raccoon hiding between two stumps in the woods. He placed it on the left side of the two windows. He then pulled out a water painting of a horse and placed it on the right side. The horse painting was larger than the raccoon sketch, so Chris felt weird because it was uneven; that was his OCD knocking on his wood. The raccoon sketch also blended in better with the nasty, dirty walls behind it.

    Last but not least, Chris pulled out a large, framed photograph of his family. He then felt as if something had been pushed through his stomach. Every time he looked at that photo, it brought back bad memories. Memories when his father was an alcoholic. Memories when his mother had lost her job and they almost went bankrupt. Memories when David had just been born and the family was forgetting about Chris. He had to shake the feeling before it got to him.

    He easily left that feeling - but he still had the feeling he was being watched. He checked out of the window several times. It was physically impossible for anyone to see him, unless they were far back and could see through the trees. Although, Chris was smart enough to know that no one could. He couldn't shut the curtains because there would be no light, so he just had to deal with it.

    Christopher Atkins began pulling out his stuff, which immediately found its way to the closet. It piled high very quickly. He didn't realize how much stuff he had fit into that bag. He found a good way to stack the stuff though; biggest on the bottom and smallest on the top. He still had those bad memories coming in; when his father used to hit him, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He remembered one specific time when his dad was complaining about his messy bedroom. After around 10 minutes of Chris trying to get his dad out of his room, his dad finally just picked up a large, candle in a glass and threw it at him. From what he remembered, Chris passed out afterwards and his dad denied doing it. It was all in the alcohol, though. 

    Then came the memories of when his mom lost her job. He remembered scrimping and saving for weeks; no - months. The Atkins almost lost their whole house. They lost almost everything, really.

    Messing around with stuff, Chris felt his hands getting rougher and the sun began to fall. Looking outside, he could see the shade of what appeared to be a full moon. He could tell that it was going to be one heck of a sight. It was gazing past the tall, gray trees.

    He went outside to get his mattress out of the van. It was small and thin, sadly - not the most comfortable thing ever. Walking back in with that mattress hanging under his arm, he heard more leaves crunching behind him, along with twigs snapping. Turning around, he saw two, clear, white, beady eyes dash away. Chris couldn't move. He was in complete shock. His stomach began to  turn. He felt as if Zeus threw a lightning bolt through his soul. Then, he saw something that would change his idea on werewolves forever.