The Letter

"WHAT, NOT AGAIN!" The light-skinned young woman squeezed the paper in her hands ever so violently. She wasn't about to get shot in the heart again, after doing so well these past couple of years. Somewhere in her head, she heard the exclamation again, only this time she knew her lips didn't move. Her back snapped erect as she set out at a pace that scared anyone who thought to come close. At that time, she saw nothing but felt everything from rage to confusion to even something that didn't feel remotely like surprise. Somewhere in her head, she expected this. It was three o'clock in the afternoon but it seemed so dark. It was still so hot for November. Birds chirping, dogs barking, neighbours greeting ever so merry, like all was well in Greq. All was, it always was cheery in the most beautiful city on Earth. Emily Jackson hurried with something in her hands that could only spell doom. Ordinarily, a beautiful woman who caused stares everywhere she went. Life had taught her so much in twenty-two solid years. She didn't care that her hair had come undone and her skin had gone completely pale, she needed to find one person. Half awake and half dreamy, she couldn't help but wonder what could have gone wrong, she did everything right. Everything was supposed to be perfect. She was finally happy. She knew she was different, she would always be but she was happy. She almost didn't see the cars in front of her as she fled past anything that moved. She was a woman on a mission, a mission to save her family once again. The smiles of her brothers created an ache in her head, a hole in her heart that only her father could soothe. She had to find him. But where was he? He alone knew how to calm her. He had the words. But why wasn't he there running with her? She heard a voice in her head, his voice. It was his, she was sure but where was he? He wouldn't let this happen, he promised. But even she knew there was nothing he or anybody could do. She had to find him. She knew her life was about to stop again. Why wasn't life fair to her, she thought, as she neared her father's restaurant for what seemed like the millionth time. A feeling of tread beginning to find a home in her head, and she confirmed that today was indeed different. As she opened the door, there he was. Back-up a couple of years back, she would have run into his welcoming embrace but she was grown now and he joked that she wasn't so child-sized anyway. But today, he wasn't even there to welcome her. Where was he? He was a well-built man in his fifties. One sight and you just knew he used to be a sight for sore eyes, in his glory days. Jeff Jackson had a way of owning any room he entered. Across the room, she looked at his face, focused jawlines, chiseled, slightly scarred cheekbones, and oval-shaped eyes, only they knew what he kept masked up in all of that. Her father still turned a lot of heads. But something wasn't right with him. He knew she had entered but he didn't move. She could almost feel his taut muscles from the distance. He couldn't have known. She stormed in with sheer purpose pulsating through her very core, fighting that she believed this once but reality winning that battle. This fight caused her to stop and breathe. When she stood once again, he was still there, clad in his usual stay-at-home denim and t-shirt. He seemed calm, maybe too calm. Yes, he was too calm. Why was he? Rushing to his side, she called out "Dad?" "Dad!" He didn't look up. Did he hear? Did he know? Were they too late? Was she too late? No, she wasn't having this. But then, he knew. When he looked up, he couldn't bring himself to look into her beautiful brown eyes. "Dad, you promised, what…" "Daddy, I…" "Dad, was it me, was it Steve? What happened?" She couldn't stop the flowing questions. They kept coming and not getting answered, thought about coming some more. She let out the tears she didn't know had welled up in her eyes the instant their faces met. He knew. All of a sudden, she was seven again and desperately needed her father. In a world she didn't understand and a body that confounded her even more, her father always seemed to know how to soothe her. But now, even now, he felt like he was about to crumble. His broad shoulders that had given such comfort seemed saggy, like it was, all of a sudden, so loose-fitting. His wise knowing eyes, the colour of the sea at rest, looked like it had just seen the storm. They stayed in silence for what seemed like an eternity and then he found his voice but it wasn't one she was used to. This one was hoarse and looked like it hadn't been used for a while. She didn't recognize it. She didn't want to. She had heard it a few times before, when her mother died and at the funeral. "Emmy, I am so sorry. I have failed you" Those words tore deeper than anything she had ever felt in her life, even the pain of transition didn't come close. She now saw what he was looking at, he had something in his hands, the very ones that held their world together, the same thing that she had seen some heart-shattering minutes ago. The thing every werewolf feared the most. The Letter. He didn't find her because he didn't want to. He had received the letter but couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. She had never seen her father this way. His skin looked like it didn't have enough blood coursing. She had to seat him down, she had to seat them down. Their world was about to crumble. They could just feel it. She looked up and was met with such sadness. Moving her messy hair from her line of sight, she saw something she didn't think she would ever see, a grown man crying. His face had a sadness she couldn't quite place. It wasn't like he was shocked. He seemed at peace with what he was getting. She knew this had happened before but why wasn't he surprised? At that split second, she realized she wasn't too. Why weren't they?