Not A Love Story

You Can't Hide

Leona's POV

I'm not really sure how I ended up in our attic. I never go up here because it's rank, dusty smell makes me gag. I'm looking for evidence, I guess.

I'm up here because of Dad. I just know he knew about werewolves. Those stories he used to tell me aren't made up. I know they aren't.

I've been up here the for the last hour or so. Time doesn't mean much to me right now. If my doctor saw me right now, he would freak out. He had just let me stop using crutches, deeming me fit enough to to walk on my own without bleeding to death.

Dust mites swirl up my nose. I hate dust. But I keep going. I have to. Sighing, I push away the cardboard box I've been searching through. It knocks into a stack of other boxes behind it, knocking the top one off. It falls to the ground with a loud thump. I hear the tinkle of broken glass.

"Oh, man!" I grumble. I make my way over to the box that fell. Sighing, I open it up.

Inside, there are several ornaments from a Christmas long ago, and more dust. I hate dust. Did I mention that? There are also some old photo albums from when Mom was a kid. Two I had seen before, one I have not. The two I recognize are blue and green, but the new one-which actually appears to be quite old-is a dark, musty brown. Inside, I find pictures of what I think are my grandparents when they were kids. It's like watching a video montage of my family's lives.

As I turn the pages, I gradually see more and more of my mom. First her as a baby, and then as she got older, too. Eventually, pictures of my mom fade away altogether, replaced by pictures of... me. 

I see photos of me as a baby, then as a toddler, then... a family photo. It was when Mom and Dad and I went to Cape Cod one summer. It depicts me standing in shorts and a T-shirt, holding an ice cream cone. I was seven then. Mom and Dad flank me on both sides, grinning from ear to ear.

That photo convinced me. Convinced me to stop looking. There is nothing in this dusty old attic but dust bunnies and painful memories. I stand up, ready to climb back down the ladder and forget about this whole thing, when I spot the brown memory book lying, nearly forgotten, on the floor.

I grab it, and shuffle to the ladder. I stick the book under my arm, and grab a rusty rung. 

As I begin my descent, the book slips away from my grasp, and lands with a crash to the floor.

"No!" I shriek. I hobble down the ladder to the solid wood floor. I hurry over to where the book lays, hoping beyond hope that I didn't damage it. I stop in front of the book and lean down. Then I stop.

The book lays open to the inside cover. One picture hangs loosely from the flap, unhinged by the fall.

It's a photo showing  about ten wolves, all different heights and colors. The ones at the front show a raven black and a stormy gray wolf.

If that wasn't weird enough, the caption under it reads:

                                                               FAMILY GATHERING 1998

20 years ago. A family gathering... of wolves. This can't be my family, can it? I'm normal, I'm just a regular person... and yet, this photo was in a book containing my picture.

"MOM!" I scream. I run downstairs to the kitchen, where Mom looks thoroughly startled. "EXPLAIN THIS!" I wave the photo in front of her face.

"W-wh-where did you get that?" She whispers, her face pale.

"It doesn't matter. WHY WAS THIS IN OUR FAMILY PHOTO ALBUM?"

"It... it was just a joke," She trembles.

"DON'T GIVE ME ANY OF THAT CRAP!" I snarl. "I WANT ANSWERS!"

"And I can't give you them," Her voice is just a wisp of air.

"YES, YOU CAN! YOU KNOW EVERYTHING!" I scream. I know I'm not being fair, I'm venting all my anger and confusion and frustration at her. "You're on of them, aren't you?" I say, shaking now myself. "All this time... and you've just been here like a sitting duck!"

"Leona," Mom stands up. 

"Don't bother," I say. Tears stream down my cheeks. I run from the house, heading for the woods.

"Leona!" Mom calls after me. But I don't care. I'm too far gone to care.

I'm running now, not feeling the throbbing in my leg. Pain means nothing to me. 

I weave through trees, dashing and dodging, just flat-out sprinting. My hair streams out behind me, getting caught on branches and thorns.

I finally slow to a stop. Somehow, I'm in front of a large clearing, behind a bush. I peek through the branches, not quite sure what I'm looking for.

Suddenly, I see sparks of gold fly in the air, and a dark figure soars past my hiding spot.  The sparks turn out to be just hay, coming from a giant haystack, but the figure...it's a wolf. It's pelt is a brilliant reddish brown.

There are more, but only three. One pure white one with blue eyes, a dark brown one with black eyes, and the largest, a tan one with green eyes.

The red one walks back to the rest of them. The tan wolf seems to be nodding, as if in approval. The red one bares it's teeth in what I think might be a grin, then flops on his back on the ground and rolls around in the grass like a puppy. The white wolf rolls her-at least I think it's a her- eyes.

My breath comes in ragged, shallow gasps. If this isn't what I've been looking for, then nothing is. I need no more evidence now. all the proof I'd ever need is right in front of my very eyes.

I scramble back from my bush. In my shock, I forgot to be quiet. The bush makes a loud, rustling sound. I curse myself under my breath.

Three pairs of eyes stare at me. I stand rigid with shock. Then I sprint as fast as my legs will carry me through the forest, away from this, away from the wolves, away from the unknown.

One of the wolves utters a sharp growl, and I hear the pounding off pawsteps behind me. It's like a giant heart beat.

My foot catches on a root, sending me sprawling across the forest floor. I fall with a thud. I hear the pawsteps slowing. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, not wanting to see what I know is there.

Everything is silent. Slowly, I open one eye, and then the other, and there they are. The red and white wolves, standing a respectable distance away from me.

I suck in my breath. I don't know the white wolf, but the red one... it's the same one that visited me.

As if they don't want to scare me, the wolves creep forward. I try to get up, but I can't. I seem to weigh a million pounds.

So as they draw nearer, I look at them closely. I'm not scared, even though I should be. It seems so familiar, even though it isn't. It's like deja vu.

When I notice the red wolf's eyes, I suck in my breath.

Sara was right. He does have Jake's eyes. So, if that was Jake-if, I said if-then that must be... that must be...

The white wolf shimmered and shook, and started to shrink, and then there stood a figure I knew very well. I can't breath. My heart stops beating.

"Hi, Leona," says Kate.

And that was when the world plunged into darkness.