Wolf-blood

Wall Running- Not Recommended

Flashback (Lenus's Past)

So I lived. I made an effort each day to find the good in my life: The sun is shining. The flowers are growing. Cigs talked to me today. I learned five new words from my dictionary. I am a straight A student. Life is good.

Well, not all life. 

True, my friends had started talking to me again, but it wasn't like it used to be. Instead of me shutting myself out, they were shutting themselves out. I only had straight A's because I used my homework to distract me from my life, same with my dictionary. The sun was soon covered up with clouds, and the flowers withered and died.

The headaches didn't help. They started exactly four weeks after I'd last talked to my wolf.

I had lain down to sleep and closed my eyes, when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my head. I nearly cried out at the amount of pain in my head, but managed to hold it in. I silently stood from my bed and went to get some Ibuprofen, and very nearly fell back over. I held onto the wall for support and walked out my door, to the kitchen. I grabbed some medicine and water and walked back to bed. After taking it, the pain numbed some and I managed to fall into a restless sleep.

The next day was worse. The pain had multiplied, if possible, in my head and my body felt like it was burning. "Richard?" I called out in a croak. When no response came, I tried again. "Richard?!" I called out, a bit louder.

"Carter?" he asked as he walked in.

"I don't feel very well. My head hurts," I said as he looked at my appearance. He seemed a bit worried.

"Damn, son, you look like hell. You need to stay home from school today."

"Gladly," I said.

"I'll go get you a cold cloth. You are sweating like a banshee," he told me and walked out. Now, I didn't know if banshees really sweat, or if everybody just used "banshee" as an extremely high level, but if a banshee did sweat, I'd assume that they'd sweat less than I was sweating right now. I could feel the perspiration running in between my shoulder blades and sprouting from my forehead. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on how the sweat felt. Hey, I'd concentrate on anything if it meant distracting me from my awful headache. 

At some point, Richard must have returned, because I felt a cool cloth be laid on my forehead. "You need to stop getting into positions like this, Carter. Last time, it was a stabbing pain in your stomach, this time it's your head. Let's not make it a tradition."

I laughed a bit, but regretted it as my head ached at the movement. "Well, last time I had changed into a wolf. Let's hope that doesn't happen again."

I could almost hear the frown in his voice as Richard asked, "How long has it been since you shifted last?"

"About a month."

"Didn't werewolves in the legends shift once a month?"

I frowned. "Yeah, but they couldn't control it. And they shifted on the full moon."

"Why don't you just try to shift? I mean, it couldn't hurt."

"No," I said flatly. 

"Why not?" he asked, confused by my tone.

"I decided that I wouldn't be a wolf-blood anymore. I don't talk to my wolf and have him blocked out of my mind. And I won't shift."

Richard sounded a bit tired as he said, "Carter. I told you to live your life. And you promised you would. Your life, Carter. Not a normal person's, not mine, but your's. And your life includes your wolf and being a wolf-blood. You can't shut out what makes you special."