On Her Own

“Mommy?”  The little girl asked sleepily, as she rose from bed, only to be welcomed by silence and darkness.  Rubbing her little fists against her eyes the girl quietly crawled out of bed and crept to her bedroom door.  Reaching on her tip toes; she gently turned the door knob and walked out into the hall.  The house was eerily quiet except for the occasional creak from the wind outside.  The girl walked down the hall to her parent’s bedroom door and knocked gently.

“Mommy,” the little girl called out again, “Mommy can I come and sleep with you?”  She asked as she opened the door.  As she opened it she saw a shadow hovering over the bed.  The shadow was oblivious to the girl, as she walked quietly to the side wall and flicked on the lights…and what she saw would forever be sheered into her brain and come to haunt her sleep.

There on the bed was her mother…her blood soaked into the sheets, her lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling.  The shadow spun around to look at the little girl with an animalistic hiss.  The shadow turned out to be an old woman with silver hair and blank white eyes.  The little girl gave a shrill high pitched scream as she stumbled up against the wall, sobbing.

“No need to cry, little one.” The old lady hissed walking toward the girl, her hands bloody from when she had touched the mother.  The girl gave another hopeless scream, as the lady laughed harshly, stalking toward her.

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The little girl sobbed and screamed in pain as the witches continued to chant.

That was what they were; it had become clear to the girl as the old lady had taken her away from her home.  The lady had taken the girl to her ‘friends’ and had locked her up for what seemed like months, but what was really only days.  They had given her just enough food and water to keep her on the brink of death, but not quite there.  Then one day a girl around her age came into her room, as the girl brought her to the old ladies she told her what they were and what they planned.

They had killed her mother in hope that she was a werewolf, since old witches need a death of a werewolf to survive and become young and immortal.  When the old lady, the leader, found out that the mother was human she was very disappointed and was about to leave when the little girl came in.  The moment the lady saw the little girl she knew the girl had werewolf blood.  She had taken the girl and now planned to torture and slowly drain the life out of the girl.  In order to do that however the girl must be completely broken and unresisting.  As parting advice the girl told her to stay strong and fight, that if she was truly a descendent of werewolves her wolf would come out and protect her when she is in her greatest need <or if she became of age>.

And that is how she is still alive and in the greatest pain that anyone could possibly endure, and as she stands there in the middle of the room with the pentagram circle around her, she thinks of her mother, of her brother and father, and hangs on.  And right when she though it was too much to bear, she heard and felt her bones give way and reshape.  The pain burned even worse and she screamed out until she could no longer.  She collapsed to the floor and curled into a tight ball, wishing the pain away.  Don’t! A voice whispered into her mind, immediately the girl uncurled, and as she did she shifted into her wolf form.  A pitch black wolf with a red and silver streak that fell in her eyes slightly.  As she stretched she realized that the pain was gone and the witches had stopped chanting.  As she looked around she saw the witches starring at her in complete and utter terror.  As the old witch approached the girl, her wolf crouched defensively and growled viciously.  She lunged at the witch knocking her down…making sure to hit her head on the floor to knock her out.  She than bound out the door and almost ran into the little girl she had encountered earlier.  The little girl looked at her and smiled sadly, on instinct her wolf couched down to let the girl crawl onto her back.  The girls wolf than ran out taking the two of them far away from the witches.

That little werewolf girl was me and the little witch was my best friend Cynthia.  Now we are both 17 and if I may say so myself…quite freakin badass.  You definitely don’t wanna mess with us. :D

--------------------------------->>>>>>>>>>> Amielya