Perfection

Skoll

                  

5-12-15

Today I can do nothing but hate myself. So naturally, I make sure all the music I play over the intercom lets everyone else know how melancholy I feel. My coworker, Drew, loves it when I feel like this. He says I play the best music when I'm in some sort of depressed mood.

I made a new playlist called 'Seaside Spring' filled with songs that make me feel like I'm sitting on misty beach in shorts and a sweater, smelling the scent of the ocean and relishing the feel of sixty degree weather by the water. The sound is downhearted mixed with an Indie Folk vibe. This music lets me remain sad without letting me plunge into the depths of complete self-loathing and misery. I find that entertaining my mood helps improve it.

My boss is almost never in the record shop. He opens the doors at 9:00 am every morning and comes back to close them around 10:00 pm...On a good day. Whatever it is that he does all day, somehow makes him at least an hour late to close up nearly every day. It's a good thing I don't have a social life. My sympathies go out to Drew. He has a decent sized group of friends that are always calling him in the evenings, trying to get him to come and hang out. Since Drew and I are the only two employees currently working here, he never gets to ditch.

Although my boss is somewhat of a flake, he does allow me to bring my dog, Skoll, to work with me. His exact reason for this allowance is that I'm not buff enough and Drew is too skinny to take down anyone trying to steal from us, or cause trouble.

And Skoll is actually a wolf.

His intimidating looks have come in handy many a time. I know I rant and groan about being alone, but I have always had Skoll. Ever since I can remember being like this, he has been there.

He is my protector.

He should have died long ago but I think we suffer from the same plague. He's been shot and stabbed but no blood has ever fallen from his coat and nothing has ever scared him...On the other side of that, nothing has ever NOT been afraid of him. It took Drew weeks to be able to stand within five feet of him and not tremble. My boss is still very wary of him but knows that Skoll isn't a trouble maker. He eats the trouble makers.

So as Waking Obsession Records was filled with my gloomy music I arranged records. Drew swept and stocked the T-shirt merchandise. Skoll prowled the store when no one was in it. He knows he'll frighten everyone away if he walks around with people perusing the music.

Different mood than yesterday, but the same thing somehow. I should have been exhausted with how little sleep I got, but I haven't been tired since I realized I can't die. I like sleeping, but I don't need it. I've gone weeks without it sometimes just to test myself. There was no affect.

Drew, on the other hand was falling asleep leaning against a wall. His night must have been as late as mine.

"Raven, I'm dying here."

"Just pull out the cot and sleep for a couple of hours."

"But I can't leave you alone."

"Drew, I'm much tougher than you and I have a wolf body guard. I'll be fine." And with that, Drew went behind the checkout counter, pulled out the cot we've stashed underneath and started snoring before he could answer.

I've made Skoll a big bed right next to the checkout counter and so I'm leaning against him during the lull of customers. Almost no one has come in today. A hipster couple came in around noon—they looked around for two hours but nothing since then.

Lulls mean my mind is free to wander. I have to consciously struggle with myself to not think about Cayden. He thought I was intriguing? How long was he watching me in the club? He must have been, how else would he have known when I needed help? And would he have talked to me if I hadn't been in trouble? Okay enough. Something else to preoccupy my mind. Something without men involved.

Skoll is growling in his sleep. It's like a cat purring to me. But I remember hearing him growl for the first time and not feeling so warm and fuzzy.

Before going into the forest is mostly a blur. I remember going to sleep the night before and waking unusually early. I remember wanting to be alone and walking somewhere. Then I remember being inside the thick forest bordering my village. I had only played on its edge and at that moment, I realized I had wandered so far within its green darkness that I thought I would die before finding my way out.

If only.

I remember I kept walking, hoping to encounter a hermit, another lost soul, anyone. But instead, I happened upon a crystal clear pool in a small clearing. My hair rose a little from my scalp like static electricity, and the air pulsed with the energy of a beating heart. Suddenly I felt strength in my aching limbs, fresh air flooding my lungs, and my vision was more pristine that ever. Even so, I was so thirsty.

I made my way down to the lush bank of the pool. Everything was covered in soft moss that cushioned my feet...That's funny, I've never remembered that I had been bare foot. I cupped my hands and drank from that pure water.

And drank.

And drank.

And drank.

I couldn't stop. Every time I swallowed, I felt even thirstier than I had before drinking. It was as if the cool liquid turned to sand halfway down my throat. Eventually I just immersed my face in the water and lapped it up like a dog.

The thirst worsened.

I felt my lungs begin to dry up, filling with that dry sand, then the rest of my insides shriveled. The panic overtook me and I jumped into the pool. I remember thinking that perhaps the water could soak through my skin and quench my organs. The water sucked the life from my body instead. I tried to scream but my throat was too dry. Then I sank.

I sank to the bottom of the pool softly landing on the sandy floor. Looking around for some form of aid I only saw sand and blue. It was then that I realized that I wasn't breathing in water—I wasn't breathing at all. I wasn't drowning. I wasn't dying. Through the panic I hadn't realized that I was no longer thirsty. So pushing off the pool floor, I rose to the surface.

The wolf was the first thing I saw as I emerged with a small ripple as I was in no hurry to fill my lungs with air. Sharp teeth barred right before my eyes. He menacingly barked and snapped at my face only inches away from his. His teeth were coated in deep red blood as were his enormous paws. I had never seen a black wolf before. And his entire being was as black as pitch.

A moment longer he snapped at me, then as if I disappeared, he began drinking. Strangely, the fear I felt at that moment was nothing compared with the panic that seeped into me along with that ravenous thirst. As I swam back to the bank, I witnessed what had just happened to me. Insatiable thirst. Frantic need. Then sinking. The wolf sank to the bottom but stayed there.

From my position on the shore I could see down to the crystal depths that he was not moving. He remained immobile for minutes. I waited for him to rise to the surface. Nothing.

I had always adored dogs. The Lord of our county's hounds were most beloved by me and everyone took to calling me wolf girl when the full moon painted the sky. I would sit outside in my white shift waiting for an encounter with a wolf. The chance to come face to face with one was a life-long dream.

So as this terrifying and beautiful black wolf remained still at the bottom of the pool, I knew he would stay there forever. I plunged in and he did not even show his teeth to me as I swam to save him. I intertwined a hand in his fur and he swam with me to the top. As our heads breached the surface, he began licking me. I became his alpha.

I can't write what happened after because I'm trying to avoid thoughts that make me feel anguish inside. But following the encounter, I named my wolf Skoll, after the Norse god who chased the sun. And following that, I realized he was the only one I would never lose.

The pool changed him from a rabid animal to a silent and cunning predator. It must have also changed me, although I can't remember how. In my life since then, I have never been able to find that pool again. Honestly, I think it is no longer there. For the longest time I thought that drinking from it again would reverse the effect it had on Skoll and me, but I suppose that's a theory I'll never get to test. Perhaps there are other places like that one. I wouldn't doubt it. Enough tales and legends have been told about such places throughout the centuries, there has to be some truth in them.

Drew is waking up. I suppose I'll return to my exhilarating duties.