Only If I Knew

Chapter 3: Secrets

"Isabel, Why are you here?" questioned a voice, "Why are you here?" I couldn't see anything. I didn't know where I was. I was lost. Thunder blasted in the sky. An electric yellow streak of lightning gave out a spark of light. I was in the forest. Leaves, snow, twigs and all sorts of wildlife formed a tornado.

"Isabel, get out of here.. NOW!" growled the voice. I was being dragged in circular motions around the tornado. It was like being in a snow globe.

"ISABEL!"

"Isabel, wake up!" My uncle wrapped his jacket around me, "What are you doing sleeping in a place like this?" He gently put a plaster across my cheek where a fresh scar had been made. Unaware of my surroundings, I shivered in surprise as I looked around the woods. Jewels twinkled amongst the dark blue velvet sky.

"What..What happened?" I asked, sitting up from the ground.

"Well that's what I want to know.  The lads and I were hunting, until we came across you."

"I don't... I don't remember," I stuttered.

"Let's get you home," my uncle sighed. I got into his truck. Noises of a suffering animal came from the back.

"Did you catch something?" I asked, disturbed by the noises.

"Yeah, a wolf."

I peered through the small flap that allowed me to see behind the truck. A beautiful golden wolf. It's eyes were like the gray moon but with a glint of blue. It was sad. It was desperate. It was helpless.
"Pass my thermos flask please, Isabel" I heard my uncle say but I wasn't listening. I was still studying the wolf.
"Isabel, my flask please," There was something about the wolf that seemed awfully familiar.
"Isabel!" I jerked at the call from my uncle. "What's up? Are you okay? I'll take you to see a doctor," He placed his hand over my forehead and I shook. His hands were cold; too cold under his gloves. I handed him his flask.
"Uh no, I'm alright," I watched my uncle warm his hands with his flask full of coffee, "Let's just go home."
"Are- are you sure?" he stuttered, while holding his flask and driving. 
"Yeah, I just need some rest but uncle are you okay?"
"I'm fine, what makes you ask?"
"Your hands are freezing cold and you're already wearing gloves," The golden wolf growled behind us. We pulled up at the driveway and my uncle told me to get some rest. I headed towards the door. My ears pricked up at the sound of the suffering wolf but I didn't turn to see what was going on. I went inside the house. 

I hoped to get some sleep but the rattling rain against my window kept me up. Instead of drowning myself in perpetual rainfall through one of the longest nights in my life, I decided to swim in a pool of words about wolves. Reading was not only an escape, but also a distraction. So many unanswered questions about what happened to Emma, when I would see Lukas again, how I ended up in the forest and what would become of the wolf my uncle caught antagonized my brain. I dug in my backpack and took out the small but thick publication of pages. The intricate details of the woven and faded purple cover allured me to take an interest on this book.  I found it in the attic of my old house, buried within a box full of other wolf-related trinkets. What made me curious was that it was handwritten book. In fact, it may have been some sort of journal or diary rather than a book. The smudged ink and smell of the pages brought a sense of comfort, albeit I had no clue where this book was from or who wrote it. One thing was for sure: you will never find another copy of a book like this or discover the knowledge printed on these pages elsewhere.

It was like a book full of secrets. From the articles of wolfpack adventures, to the morbid tales and information of wolf-shifting, I couldn't help but think this was all real. All true. All evident. However, there was this other part of me that knew that it was all just words. There was nothing wrong in small beliefs that humans shifted into amazing wolves during the cold and when the moon was full. There was no harm in small beliefs that generations ago the wolf pack of Nightwalkers were in battle against the wolf pack of Wildprowlers. It all began when the leader of the Wildprowlers desired greater lands, invading the territory of the Nightwalkers. This broke the ultimate rule for peace between the Nightwalkers and the Wildprowlers.The obstacle that kept the disputing packs from eachoher was that each of their lands ended with cliffs that marked the edges of their lands. The Wildprowler's illicit actions created destructive havoc and an outbreak of war. From the source of greed and pride, years of battles took place in Jersey Wood. Whilst a pack was fighting for more power, the other fought for defence. At the same time this great war was happening, humans hunted for the wolves. Grotesque torture was what hunted wolves were put through. Repugnant and repulsive were the words to describe the horrendous actions that humans performed on the unfortunate wolves. It was as if the book was written from a wolf's point of view. I remembered the beautiful wolf that my uncle captured. I couldn't let the wolf suffer. Slipping my boots on, I made my way to the backyard. Soft whimpers echoed. I followed the sounds and discovered the beautiful golden wolf trapped in a cage, too small. I knelt down and made contact. Melancholy slowly whirled in the moon blue eyes of this golden wolf. It snapped a look away from me. How familiar. "I'm going to get you out," I whispered, looking at the padlock. The wolf stared at me. It was as if it understood me.I took my hair clip and picked at the lock until it clicked open. Just like a streak of lightning, the golden fur shot past me and into the bushes. 

"Isabel," I heard knocking at my door, "It's almost noon- do you not have any plans of getting out of bed?"

"I'm awake now," I murmured and opened the door.

"How are you feeling? Do you still not recall any memory of how you got into the forest?"

"I'm much better and I don't know,"

"If you need me to take you to the doctors, I'm more than happy to," 

"No, I'm okay uncle, really"

"Alright then. The wolf from last night got out, did you notice anything-" he looked at something past me, focusing on the book on my bedside table, "where did you get that?"

"It was in the attic of our old house,"

"You're not supposed to have that." He took the book and closed it shut.

"Uncle, I was reading it," I walked after him, hoping to get it back, " there's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"You're not supposed to have it." He said dismissively.