Vindicated

One of Them

[editing]

"There is a battle between two wolves inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, and truth." A woman pauses, gazing at what might be a fairytale.

A young girl with stars in her eyes asks, "Which wolf wins?" 

"The one you feed," the woman says while gazing into her promising daughter's eyes.

        That was a distant memory resurfacing as I sit impatiently on my chair, trying to ignore the stares I'm getting from my pack. The air is thick, thick enough to envelop my body into a frigid stance. Everything felt surreal, as if this was all a dream ready to burst at any moment. However, this dream was soon turning into a horrendous illusion. This was not a nightmare, for if it was then opening my eyes would be enough to dispel it. An illusion was a more suited term. No matter how vigorous I shook my head, the mirage would still be there.  As I sat immobilized I wondered if there would be something to break this fantasy; to break the fastened glares on me. 

Being an Omega was more than a rank. This was the way my pack held validity. The more experienced the individual was as a werewolf, the higher their position. The title Omega was just a starting rank, a learner if you will. Students and the seeds of the future, that was what Omegas were. That was what I became.

        I could hear it. My name. It was being called out into the air like a knife cutting through its thickness. Pulling my mind above the silent atmosphere. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, like birds recalling a friend's song. It reminded me of my father and his quirky way of pronouncing my name. It felt so soothing that if I just closed my eyes picturing myself home wouldn't be a problem. However, that peaceful moment was soon pierced by gazes, more intense than before.  I was like a deer in a den of wolves. This was unnatural and I knew that better than anyone. I could feel the past's fetter-like grip slowly dissipate; its soothing feel leaving, making me uncomfortable and anxious . The urge to find myself home was intensifying, but I knew why I must be here; in the present. I had to get a grip on myself but it was hard to focus. Even as I'm surrounded by dozens of people, not one word was spoken. This silent urging was what had me glued to my seat. An invisible grip that shook me more than my very legs. This was what anxiety looked like and it grew the more whispers slithered to life. Just thinking about that alone made shivers race up my body. I did not dare look around to see how many people were gathered in here. It was all paralyzing. 

A second time my name is called and with that my heart starts to race. For a moment my name sounded foreign, like a new playmate. A stranger I was eerily getting acquainted with. The moments ticked by as I willed myself to respond back. My lack of strength was proof that I was inexperienced. Any other pack member would have answered the call with a resounding voice, erect back, and proud strides. However I was meek when others were bold. If I wanted to be part of this pack, then I must face this challenge. Standing up was my biggest problem, but clenching my fist as if they had my resolve was enough to get me walking forward. Shuffling through the aisle I could see a man stand before the crowd. He had a welcoming smile decorating his lips and had eyes that were determined. I've seen this man before, somewhere within my memories I recognized him. His name was Erek Paine, and he was the current Alpha of our pack. This was supposed to be a festive event. A time in which I would be introduced as a member of the pack.  Yet I asked myself why it felt alienating, but I already knew why.

Mimicking his features I walk next to him and turn around just in time to feel a hand on the small of my back guide me. Briefly glancing at him and then to the crowd before me, his attempt to placate my nervousness was in vain, but a reassuring gesture no less. Announcing my name to the pack couldn't feel so foreign at the moment. It's not like they don't know it by now, my name, but I take it as a gesture of acknowledgement. I can feel the anticipation in my body build up. Everyone must play the role they were given, and so it is my turn to say what rank I shall be; what every generation after me will be. Looking into the crowd of eyes I feel faint. They were all judging, mocking, instigating me. I try to stand straighter, to at least show them some backbone, to show that I could be one of them, but I'm not that strong willed. My gaze spirals downward until polished wood floors is all I see. I feel weak at my knees and if it weren't for the hand squeezing my shoulder, reminding me of what I must do, I would not have the strength to stand.