Nefaria--a prose anthology

Stargazer

The moon rests silently on my skin, silvery and sickly in the weak light. My quiet breath whispers through my cold room, the fan whipping the fall outside air from my open window. The stars beckon me from their spaces high in the sky, calling me from this wretched place I'm obligated to call home.

Soft rustling sound comes from outside my windows; a shiver runs through me with anticipation.

I throw off my thin, hole-filled blanket, sending the stench of cigarettes through the air. I run to the window as silently as possible and lean over the sill.

Intelligible murmurs come from all around and I whisper a silent hello. Before my eyes materializes a misty wolf, translucent and smelling the sweet scent of ocean water.

I allow myself a smile as she bumps my nose with hers, filling my veins with the sweet kiss of summer dew.

I begin to speak with her, letting my heart bleed all over her silvery fur. She doesn't mind, kind with the knowledge she is the only gentle presence in my life.

Too late, far too late, I hear the dreadful, unsteady step of my father. I can barely tell my kind friend to hide before the door flies open.

Father steps forward, killing the ocean smell with his alcohol coffin in a glass bottle.

His yells fill my ears and I start to cry. I fear the worst--a kick, a pitch, a silent grave.

My wolf hears my cries, charging valiantly out of the bushes, as much as an attempt of deliverance from his cruel hand as a death sentence for us both.

I crumble to the ground, sobbing, begging, pleading, for my friend to leave before she gets killed, or sees my death. I could never wish that upon her.

The wolf soon realizes it's a losing fight. Silvery starlight dripping from her wounds, she turns, and I bade her farewell.

Before I can object, she sinks her teeth into my shoulder, sending ripping pain throughout my body as she drags me out the window. I hear Father's drunken shouts, but I can think only one thing as the wolf of dew pulls us both far away.

I am free.

She drops me on the ground amongst a ring of trees gazing down with their kind eyes. She sinks down beside me, her breaths shallow from the fight.

I look to my chest, the source of my horrible agony.

A round hole, oozing with blood, pierces my chest, the fang-mark of my only friend's rescue.

I let my head drop, and cry even worse than before.

I'm free. I'm free. I'm free.

The words repeat like a mantra in my mind.

I'll survive, but not without a scar of memory in my heart.