One of my pet peeves: people influencing me with their bad mood. Most of the time I am in a bad mood, so don't come barging into my life with yours. Don't ruin my attempt at seeing the silver linings.
I'm trying to sleep in the biting cold, trying to imagine a bright future, but a lady sitting three benches away from me is poisoning my dear self with her mood. I try my best not to look down the park, only catching glimpses of her in my peripheral view.
She has her hands over her face, rocking back and forth. A darkness sits on her back, a black hole that sucks in everything happy and because it's autumn-winter in this town there is nothing happy left to take, so she takes my own good mood away.
I close my eyes again, I don't fall asleep, I open them and look into the dark abyss that we call the universe. I catch the lady again. She stands up, walking to the railings around the frozen pond.
I trail her with my eyes. Her tear drops break when they reach the frozen surface. I wonder what her story is, did she lose a lover, did she lose a job, did she lose a child? I will never know.
Legs go over head and I jump up, running to the best of my abilities and jumping her. We go tumbling over the pavement, crashing against a bench. My eyes are spinning but I don't waste a second to slap, sending her head snapping to the side.
"Are you crazy?" The pond is a ways down; if you were to fall onto it your head would be split in two by the impact. And who commits suicide in a park? Don't you have better taste than that?
Wide brown eyes stare back at me in shock, hand on cheek. I realize she's the same as I, a werewolf. "Who the hell are you?" she screeches, pushing me off of her. I stand up before I have a chance of landing on my butt, fixing her with a glare.
I'm being a hypocrite.
The thought of suicide crosses my mind every now and again, but only a fool would act on it. It's not about how big an impact it will make on people when you die, or about dreams going unaccomplished.
But I'll suffer more in the afterlife than I do here. I'm not the most righteous person, okay?
It's invasive of me to take her right to decide what she does with her life away from her, but it was reflex. I don't know what she has gone through, maybe she has a real reason to kill herself, but she's still a fool for trying.
"The one who stopped you from killing yourself?"
"Who gives you the right?"
"Good point, then word of advice, don't do it in front of me and in a park no less." Her face closes up.
"What do you know, you filthy rogue..." she mutters with a pair of hateful eyes and I backtrack.
She's the hypocrite! She gives off the same feeling as I do; she's also a rogue, packless. She must've been thrown out recently, considering she's in denial.
Classic case.
"You're also a rogue." Maybe she doesn't know she's a rogue yet.
She glares at me. "I'm not like you."
"Please tell me how?" I cross my arms over my chest and put my weight on one leg, dawning on my bitch costume. "You are sitting here alone at night, wanting to kill yourself, while giving the feeling of a rogue. In my recipe book, that's a rogue."
She slaps her hands on her ears and shakes her head. "I'm not! I'm the Alpha of the Full Moon Pack!" Her screech is making my ears ring.
"The Full Moon Pack? Never heard of it." The lady crunches up to herself, forehead on her knees.

YOU ARE READING
Run Away With Me
Werewolf"Fishy kisses are better than kisses," I say, the words coming out of nowhere, "and like that, two people together are better than marriage." "What are you talking about?" "Nothing really," I sigh, hunching over myself more to trap the warmth, "it'...