bite marks ▸ argent

4

Dusk.

Marie yanked her bike out of the garage, dragging it down the driveway to where her parents, and Allison, were gathered around the back end of a black truck. "I'll meet you guys there." Placing one foot on the pedal, she swung herself into the seat and sped off. Alone.

            It was about a ten-minute ride from her house to the clearing in the woods. The seasons were transitioning into autumn, so the air was still pretty sticky with remaining summer humidity and she broke into a slight sweat. The leaves rustled around her, some already golden, fallen on the ground and blowing past her. She kept quiet, absorbing one last look at the surroundings she grew up in. She knew what would happen tonight. Marie felt herself grow emotionally heavy and weak. A sob tried to force its way out of her throat, but she swallowed it down.

            She crossed over a wooden bridge, a landmark that stood as the entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Squeezing the brake, Marie swerved off the path and threw her bike down in a small, grassy patch. She settled down beside it and closed her eyes, listening to the crickets chirp around her. It wouldn't matter if she was a few minutes late to her own death sentence; She didn't even want to die.

That's when something in her snapped. She shot up, her ears turning pink from the instant flush of anger and hatred. She grabbed a stone and twirled it her fingers, glaring at the dark river water. It rippled in certain spots where fish had come up and skimmed their hungry mouths along the top. She tossed the rock up and down a couple of times, feeling its weight, balling up all of her rage within it. After it had thumped back into her hand for the fifth time, she wound up and chucked it. "FUCKING WOLF!" Her jaw clenched, heavy emotion echoing across the surface of the water that the stone had broken.

She pushed her hands through her hair, tugging on the roots until it burned. She felt a familiar tightness around her throat, but she couldn't bring herself to cry, swallowing it down again. "I don't want to die." She muttered to herself, her voice scratchy and hollow. She stared over the river, at the endless forest with it's changing colors. She didn't have to meet up with her family. She could just run away, disappear to God know's where, leave her past behind like the leaves do their tree. A stoic, determined expression painted itself over her young face.

            "I'm not going to die."