Have you ever felt like someone is watching you, watching your every move; someone who loves you, someone who isn’t there? I wake up late at night, the clock tells me the sun is going to rise soon, and I feel like something is looking for me, or perhaps, that I should be the one looking for it. Thus I decided one night, at three in the morning, to take a trek through the small English forest land, and look. Stupid mistake, cause within half an hour, not only was I hungry, sleepy, and completely parched, but also utterly lost.
I sat in the undergrowth playing with a stick, thinking about my decision. Someone would look for me, when they realize I’m missing...right? Should I have told someone I was going? But that’s not the question. The question was who could I have told? I had no one. In school, I was invisible, more average than your average human being. I lived alone (since my mom died when I was born), in a town that had one police station, eighty seven residents, and one supermarket. Out of those eighty seven residents, only one knew me, and that was me. And even if anyone else tried to get to know me, they wouldnt like me. They'd think Im a freak, they may even burn me for being a witch or something, because since I was a little girl, I was able to manipulate the elements. I never needed an umbrella; I just have to will the rain to stay of my shoulders. If I’m hot, I can stir up a sweet little breeze, and if I’m cold, I simply conjure a flame in my hand. Though in variably, I land up burning my arm. That’s another reason people stay away from me. They see the burns on my hands and think I indulge in self harm. I’ve had plenty of old women coming up to me, and asking “Are you alright dear, do you feel sad?” It gets so bugging. Sometimes, I think that maybe, there are others like me, maybe somewhere....who would understand me, who I could share everything with, but I never like to get my hopes up, cause in the end, It’s those same hopes which agitate the pain.
Tears began to prickle my eyes as I thought of dying alone in the forest. I sat still; dropping my head into my lap. The pain turned quickly into fear, when I heard a sound of the rustle of nearby leaves. I lifted my head, fabricated a small fire for light, and began, frantically waving it towards the nearby thickets. My skin got burned again due to my carelessness. I immediately put out the flame. My eyes turned to the brush in front of me only to stare into a large pair, of glowing green eyes trained at my direction. I shifted slowly backwards; shaking from the fear of being eaten. What a great way to go, to be another animals breakfast. It hadn’t even occurred to me that there were no wild animals in this little forest.
A head appeared from the brush, something dog-like, only larger. I was petrified. My mind had shut off. I couldn’t move a muscle. ‘Throw a flame in its direction, build a mud wall between you’ll; do something!’ My mind was trying to help, but my body wouldn’t respond. Its full form emerged, and my shoulders relaxed. The creature looked like a young dog, probably a wild dog. Its ears were flattened, and its head bowed, as it walked towards me tentatively, as if looking for company. I liked dogs. It laid its head on my lap. It seemed rather heavy. I lifted its head to take a good look at the friendly little creature, perhaps it was as lonely as I. I ruffled its fur a little, and tickled it's chin. After a few minutes, it got up and began pulling at my jeans.
“Want me to follow?”I asked. It wagged its tail, and gave a slight responsive bark.
‘What the heck, I’m dead if I don’t either way, and this may be fun. The dog actually seems to understand English!’ I thought as I followed the dog. We walked for some time, while the sun began to rise over the forest. As I began to reach the fringes of the forest, I realized, it was taking me home.
It ran through the final fringe of tall grass and small shrubs. I bound after it, before reaching the green grasslands outside my house. There I saw the dog. It seemed larger than I first thought, and wilder. It was being petted by a strange woman. Tall slim woman; about nineteen, maybe twenty; black ringlets falling down to her waist, and beautiful greyish eyes.
“He’s taken quite a liking to you.” She said, as she continued to stroke the dog’s fur. On seeing me, the dog, ran, jumped up, pounced on top of me, and began to lick half my face off. I could bearly breath. It was so heavy
“Is....is this your dog.” I tried to speak, beneath the weight of the animal.
“He’s yours now, honey. And he isn’t a dog.”
“What is he?”I pushed the creature on my lap, and began tickling him under his chin.
“It’s understandable if you can’t make out the difference, he’s only four months old.”
“He must be a big dog.” I thought that it had grown to full height. It was quite big.
“He's not a dog. Actually, he’s your wolf pup.”
“WHAT!!” I almost yelled. I had never seen a British wolf before. I didnt think they existed.
“Darling,” the woman said, as she placed her hand on my cheek, an eery and yet reassuring smile encroached upon her lips, “I think we need to have a chat.”