Selenophobia

Selenophobia

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Mar 4, 2017
Selenophobia; fear of the full moon. A vase smashed as it hit the wall, yet another object to be hurled at an innocent wall. Nicoletta was mad. Very, very, very mad. And for her, nothing got rid of her rage like hurling things at a wall. And because she was in his house, she was hurling anything in sight at the closest hard surface she could find. The door opened and Ralph stepped in. Nicoletta grabbed yet another vase from the seemingly endless supply and hurled it at the head of the psychopath that had locked her in a room after inviting her to come over to work on an assignment for school. Nicoletta wanted to say no, to shove his offer back in his face, but it was a huge task to complete on her own. A 3000-word essay, a poster and a printed hand out to be distributed in class. All on singular celled organisms and all due in just three weeks. Ralph was one of the most popular people in the Year 9 at Wolfcove High. Nearly all the girls tried to get his attention. Not Nicoletta. She remembered when Ralph Wigsom had pulled her hair and bullied her in primary school. She was one to hold a grudge, and even though it had been seven years, Nicoletta Summers was going to get even. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ralph Wigsom is a werewolf. Nicoletta Summers was not. Somehow, they ended up paired together, but not everything is sunshine and flowers when you grew up in a town where the legends of werewolves made them out to be creatures of the night that would not hesitate to bite your neck and eat you. Is this going to work out?
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My dream continued the one I'd been having for the past couple of nights. I ran, gasping for breath, through the familiar woods from a dark figure behind me. The faster I tried to run, the slower I seemed to go, until it was like I was running in place. I knew I needed to run. I was terrified of what the figure would do when he caught me. "Mara Leigh," a deep, smooth voice called. It was almost hypnotic. That was new. The figure had never spoke before now. I ran as fast as I could go, eyes searching the forest floor for a big stick or something that I could use to defend myself. "Mara Leigh!" the voice came again, this time more insistent. The forest slowly started to fade and I started to awake to someone shaking my shoulders. "Beau?" I mumbled, turning my head to the side. What's Beau doing in my room this time of night? Why is he shaking me? "Do not call me that name." My eyes flew open as I jumped at the voice from my dream. A face was right in front of mine, and just like the voice, it wasn't Beau. Before I could form a scream, a hand covered my mouth. I tried to bite it but I couldn't get my mouth to open. He's too strong. I started to use my whole body to try to get away, but he crawled on top of me, holding me down. I pulled the hidden knife out from under my pillow and slashed as hard as I could at him, but he just grabbed my wrist and squeezed it until the pain made me drop the knife. Then he grabbed both my hands in one of his and held them over my head. He held me down while I struggled. I grunted and moved and tried to kick and scream, but I only wore myself out. Exhausted, I stopped thrashing and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do, so I just tried to prepare myself for whatever was coming.

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