The Nature of Wolves

A New Life

My eyelids felt heavy; I was tired and ready for sleep to transport me into a world of happiness rather than the bleak version of a world that I am forced to exist in. It had been fifteen years since my father was brutetally murdered by wolves, out in our back yard, at the only place I had called home. My mother became a shell of her former self. Every year we've moved and tried to start a new life for ourselves, but my mother kept attempting suicide and I couldn't think of anything else to do but move again. 

This time we've moved to Colorado and I didn't know how long before we would pack up and puck some where else on the map. I kept thinking that the solitude might be more soothing than the noisy cities. I pulled up to the driveway, of the house that we just signed up to rent, when the sun was setting. My mother got out of the car and walked straight into the house as I unpacked the last remaining boxes from the storage center. I was used to her finding somewhere to perch and stare at nothing, so much so that I even expected her to do so by now. 

I slowly unpacked the car and then started unpacking the boxes. Once I was finished I looked at the time on my phone and saw that it was already after nine p.m. I broke the boxes down and put them away in the closet neatly, knowing it was only a matter of time before we needed to pack everything back up again. I went to the back porch and grabbed the small blanket, wrapping it around my body while sitting on the wooden bench swing. Our house over looked a large lake and cliff. The smell of the pine trees was very soothing and reminded me of home, back when life wasn't a chaotic mess.

 When I felt like I couldn't stay awake, I went to my room and slid onto my bed. Laying there with the window open feeling a light breeze that carried the scent of pine trees into my room gave me some comfort. I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before I slowly got out of bed and walked quietly through the house. I stopped at my mother's room and peaked in, she was sitting on the foot of the bed staring out into the woods. Her eyes seemed like they were searching for something in the distances, I followed her gaze but couldn't see what she was staring out. "Mom, it's late, you should get some rest," I said gently as I walked into her room. She looked up at me, the sound of my voice seemed to break her out of her trance. She nodded slowly, almost as if it was hard for her to move. I helped her into bed and pulled the covers up before giving her a small smile, "good night," I spoke but her focus was back on whatever had caught her eye earlier.

I walked out of her room and closed the door, every time I look at my mother a hopeless feeling would washed over me. I only wished that she could try and find peace about losing my father instead of letting it control her and strip her of her sanity. My mother was truly convinced that life would never be bearable. I knew that they had a special kind of love from how they stared into each other's eyes. I couldn't help but wish that she would just pick up the pieces of what was remaining. 

 I went into the kitchen and made some chamomile tea. I didn't bother trying to sip on it right away, knowing that it would burn my tongue if I did, so instead I went ahead and cleaned up the kitchen from the mess that I had made. I walked to my bedroom and set the warm cup on the night stand before walking over to my lap top. It took a few seconds for it to turn on and a few more to log in but I went to my play list and began listening to music. I crawled up my bed and sat down with my legs crossed holding my cup of tea. My mind kept racing back to just a few days ago, my mother had tried to over dose on a prescription that she has, luckily the paramedics showed up in time, she even had to have her stomach pumped and now I have to keep her medication locked up. I shook the image of my mother laying still with an empty prescription bottle in her hand out of my head. My index finger traced over the rim of my cup, the heat from the liquid warmed my fingers. I brought the cup up to my face and breathed in its delightful smell, I could tell that it was cool enough to drink safely before I took a small sip. It was still hot, it warmed my insides up as it flowed down to my stomach. Slowly, I drank my tea as my music brought me to a peaceful state. I couldn't help but glance out of my window and see how beautiful the new moon was. My one ever changing constant was the beauty of the night sky. I took a deep breath in and stared out into the night slowly sipping on my tea. The night somehow brought me comfort. Maybe it was the promise of a new day or just the relief of one ending.