Story of the moon

Chapter two: How my journey started

I wake up the next morning with my mind fully made up to go on my grandfather’s little adventure, I’ve got nothing to lose and the possibility of gain. My writing is suffering a lot of late, so if I go on hike to find a werewolf at night (I thought you said you weren’t going at night) I figure I might get some inspiration. At least that’s what I tell myself as I pack my backpack with the things I would need for the trip. Not a sentence:Which includes extra clothes, a first aid kit, my tent and then the fun stuff. By “fun stuff” I mean the stuff that made me remember specifics from my grandfathers stories, like weapons in case I ran into something less then friendly. He told me that silver doesn’t actually hurt werewolves. That was a complete myth The only thing that will hurt a werewolf is a plant called wolfs bane. So I go to my grandfathers stuff in the attic and pull out a knife that he said was infused with wolfs bane and put it on my belt. How does the vampire come into it? While I was up there I pulled out two wooden stakes made of ash, the only way to kill a vampire, and put them in the side pocket of my backpack where I could easily get to them if I had to.

After I finish packing, I call my editor and tell her that I’m traveling for a bit, that I’m not sure for how long, but I should have some great ideas for stories when I get back. She asks me jokingly how long she should wait to file a missing persons report. I respond, “Oh, about a year.” And this is why my boss, Stacy, also happens to be my best friend. We both have a really weird sense of humor.

“So where are you going, girl?” Stacy asked. I was hoping we could skip that question, since I wouldn’t be able to tell her the truth, at least not the whole truth. I really should have known better then to think that Stacy wouldn’t ask, she’s too good of a friend not to. So I answer only, “Oh, you know, just around. I plan on doing a little camping.” I could literally feel her raise her eyebrows as she asks, “And you plan on being gone for a year, just camping?” “Curse you Stacy Benton, for being so observant,” I mutter to myself.

I hear Stacy sigh on the other end as she says, “Look, Elizabeth, I know your grandfather’s death really hurt, but is this the best idea? Going off without telling anyone where you’ll be, not even me, your best friend? It just seems extreme, if you know what I mean.” I am very happy about my choice not to tell her about my grandfather’s letter, because I almost did, and if she thinks I’m crazy just for going camping, she’d probably call the mental hospital if I told her I hoped werewolves were real. I try to lighten the mood and maybe change the subject by asking, “And how do you know that you’re still my best friend? Maybe I told someone else where I was going, because they became my best friend.” Her response was just laughter and, “Girl, I’m pretty much your only friend, and I know your schedule, so I know you haven’t had time to make any new friends. And also, you really didn’t think changing the subject would make me forget my question, did you?”

I let out a deep sigh. “Listen, Stacy. You’ll have to take my word on this, I really do know what I’m doing. No, it doesn’t have anything to do with Grandpa (lie). It’s not like I’m going to get lost or anything (also a lie, there is absolutely no guarantee that I won’t). And I won’t be doing anything dangerous (fattest lie I have ever told anyone, I’m trying to find werewolves for goodness sake, but I can’t have her worrying about me). Oh, and also, I’m going pretty far out, so if you can’t reach me, it’s because I’m out of cell range, so don’t worry about it.” Stacy lets out another sigh and answers with, “All right. Whatever you say, Liz, you know how to reach me if you need anything, I’ll miss you, girl.” “I’ll miss you too, Stacy.”

I had decided earlier to leave that afternoon, because there was no way I was going to try and follow those extremely vague directions in the dark, but I still have a couple hours before I need to leave, according to my calculations, so I go for a swim in the pool and then a shower. As soon as I get out of the shower I get dress for my trek in the woods. I put on a pair of tan cargo pants and a blue tank top with a wolf on it (I know, I know, what can I say? I’ve always had an obsession with wolves). I then put on a pair of hiking boots, and put a bandanna in my pocket, and head to the kitchen to eat a ham and cheese sandwich. I add jerky, canned beans and a small pot to my backpack. And as I head out the door I think to myself, “Great. I just let my grandfather, who is dead, talk me into going on a wild goose chase to find werewolves. I have definitely lost my marbles.” But as I near the woods,- sorry, are you driving? Walking? Is it behind your house? my doubts leave me, and all I feel is excitement and hope, and a feeling I had never felt before and couldn’t name for the life of me.