Seriously, There Are Werewolves?

Chapter 1

The smell of cinnamon still clung to my hair.

Even after three weeks in a foster home, one lost suitcase, and a dozen tear-stained nights under blankets that weren't mine, that damn cinnamon lingered. Like it was haunting me or something..

My Ballet shoes sat in a sad heap at my feet, stuffed into the same tattered tote I'd carried off the plane from Sydney. The tutu was in there too, crumpled up and useless, kind of like my old life. The government sedan I was in rounded yet another tight bend, the trees growing thicker and higher, and the bush is growing darker, while the sky is becoming a smear of grey behind the branches above us.

Well, we are definitely not in Australia anymore.. that's for sure.

As I shifted myself around trying to make myself comfortable because I have been sitting on my butt for the last 2 days, I had a look at the driver.. A guy that literally looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here in this creepy ass bush.. Well, I guess they call it a "forest" here, don't they?

The dude hasn't said much since picking me up from the county office, not that I am complaining. I'd had enough of those sad pity smiles and the "how you holding up kiddo's" from social workers to last a bloody lifetime.

Still, the silence is... heavy, and weird. Kind of like the trees are listening to something.

"A bit far for a scenic drive", I muttered, mostly to myself, tugging my seatbelt like it had personally offended me.

No response, not even a grunt.. fine..

It had taken weeks to track her down. Mouira Lane. My so-called Aunt. Apparently, she had gone completely off-grid years ago. No phone number, no socials, nothing.. I didn't even know she existed until the Australian court decided I was her responsibility. Lucky her.

And lucky me, of course, yay. New life. New guardian New creepy ass forest.

*sigh* I pressed my forehead against the windows, the cool glass could ground me just enough to stop the swirling in my chest. I keep seeing flashes of my mum mouthing the choreography from her seat in the front row and my dad looking as proud as a peacock. The red and blue lights. The annoying screams, my screams. The blurry vision of the officer's face. The funeral, I don't remember. "Stop Harper.. bloody stop", I sigh to myself.

Now I am here. Halfway across the world, in a country I have never been to, heading toward a woman my parents barely even talked about.

When the car FINALLY stopped, I squinted through the trees..

"Nope", I said out loud, "Abso-fu#king-lutely not"

We haven't pulled up to a house.. We have pulled up to the beginning of a horror movie.

The cottage, if you could even call it that, was tucked at the edge of the forest like it had grown there instead of being built. Wooden, creaky-looking, and half swallowed with vines, it has a large chimney puffing out smoke and windows that were lit up. I couldn't see behind the sheer curtains. I looked at the house and noticed a swing on the porch and little pot plants scattered over the porch. I suppose you could call it cute.. in an 'Old, I like to live in a wood cabin and eat berries' sort of way.

I bet she doesn't have internet.. I thought to myself.

"Is this... a joke?" I asked, stepping out into the gravel driveway. "Like, surprise, you're on America's Next Top Witch Survivor"

The corner of the driver's mouth quirked up, and he just shrugged. He popped the boot and dumped my bag like he was dropping off a package, not a grieving teenager.. I suppose he wouldn't know the whole story, but still. Then he got in the car and left. Just like that. I didn't even get a "good luck"..

Dust rose around my ankles as I watched the car disappear down the "road" leaving nothing but a dust cloud in its wake.

And then the front door opened.

Yup.. this is my life now.. And there she is.

Moira Lane.

She looked like she belonged to the forest... Tall, sharp-featured, with wild grey and chestnut hair pulled back in a braid that is way too long to be practical. Her eyes are piercing, like she can see straight into my soul and onto every cynical and sarcastic thing I was thinking. She is still beautiful and screams of respect.

"Harper,, she said, her voice a feminine and musical sound. "You've grown"

"I was a baby the last time you saw me, so.. yeah. That tends to happen"

Her mouth quirked at the end. Not quite a smile. "Take after your mother, I see.." She let out a slight chuckle " Come in. The woods get louder after dark"

Ok, cool. Not ominous at all

I hesitated on the porch, half expecting a hidden camera crew to pop out and yell "GOTCHA!" But no. Just me. My bag. And the tick creepy trees at my back.

The inside of the cottage was... something else. LIKE A Pinterest oared had collided with an apothecary. Dried herbs dangled from wooden beams like they were decorations or something, and there were jars everywhere on shelves the tables. They were filled with powders and roots and things, quite frankly, I didn't want to identify.

A big fat ginger cat sat curled up on an armchair by the fire... Ok.. I need to cuddle that kitty, right now! i added

"I see you're into... potions?" I said, eyeballing a bubbling concoction on the stove.

Moira walked past me, graceful in a way that made me straighten my posture without thinking. "I'm a healer."

"Of what? Broken dreams?"

She didn't laugh. "Of creatures not meant for your world."

"cool..so like.. possums with trust issues?"

Then I heard it.

A howl.

Not a dog. Not a coyote. Something deep. Something awoowish.

I froze mid-eye-roll. "What the hell is that?"

Moira Calmylu poured tea from a teapot shaped like a frog, mmkay. Like howling beasts we're just a part of the Wednesday soundtrack.

Harper, I told myself, Chill. It's just the bush, s**t i mean "forest". Forests are full of weird sounds. Totally normal.

Right?

"Moira?"

"That noise was not normal", I said

"No", she replied, "Neither is this place. You'll understand in time."

"Riiight", I said slowly. "So... not possums then?"

She took a sip of he tea and set the cup down on the side table next to her armchair, picked up the fluffy cuteness that was her ginger cat and sat down with him on her lap. "I believe that was a warning", she said matter-of-factly.

"Come, darling, sit down with me and enjoy your tea", she gestured toward the second chair.

I swallow.. The room felt a tad smaller. The walls are too close. My sarcasm caught in my throat because for the first time in weeks, I wasn't just angry or sad. I was scared.