Overcoming Her (Another Werewolf Story)

My heart is pounding in my ears. I can hardly focus on my own breathing, as time is slowing down around me. I’m here, but I’m not there. I could hear faint screams, and sweat was running down my face. I can feel it slowly sliding down my face, into my eyes. I’m looking at something, but yet I’m not there.  I feel like I’m in a movie, outside of my body. My soul is buried deep inside of me. I can hear my mother screaming my name, telling me to run. ‘Why, mom? Why do I need to run? My feet are glued to the floor beneath me. I can’t run.’ I realize I’m not saying this outloud, and internally. Why am I not panicking that I have no control over my body right now? What is happening? What am I forgetting? And then I come back. There’s blood smeared all over the walls, my mom is crawling across the floor. She’s bleeding profusely, and one of her legs is missing.  And then I hear it. Wolves are growling outside, circling our family home. I can’t find my dad. Glancing to my right, I see my aunt Teeree’s body lay motionless in front of the steps. Her blood pooled around her, smeared all across her body, acting as glue and wrapping her hair across her face.  “Where is my dad?’ I whispered to myself, completely out of touch with reality. I touch my face and realize that there wasn’t sweat on my face, but blood. My mother crawls into the room, using her elbows. “Scottie,” she breathes, “please… you need to get out of here.” I can hear it in her voice. She isn’t going to make it. I look at the oak floors she just crawled across, now stained with blood. There was no way she would be able to make it unless I got her help, and fast. I’d have to get her to the hospital, now. My mind flashed with memories of my mother. All of the good times and bad. Her manic days, her sad days, her happy days, her mellow days. I froze on one memory, where we were making friendship bracelets together. The sun shone brightly through our wide, open pane window. I was a small girl, maybe 7. She’d woken up late after having a manic episode the night before. I was always excited to see her the morning after, because she was always in the greatest of moods. ----- “Scottie Jay,” she squealed, lighting up my soul, “Let’s make friendship bracelets!” She’d paused for a moment, her face animated as always. She was puzzled. “Wait, no. Let’s make mother-daughter friendship bracelets.” She whispered to herself, “I’m a parent first, I’m a parent first.”  I smiled to myself, knowing that today was going to be a good day. ----- Coming back to the present, I saw the mismatched beads still on her wrist. There were letter beads mixed among them, spelling out ‘mom.’ She saw me looking at it, and knew exactly what I was about to do. “Scottie,” she breathed, panicked, “Don’t. There are three of them, you can’t transition yet-” ‘I can. I can, and I will. If the moon Goddess were ever to exist, she’d be here today and grant me that strength.'  I braced myself, feeling unexpected pain vibrating from my toes all the way to the top of my head. I winced for a moment, staring at my mother, her eyes wide in shock. “I’m NOT losing you, NOT today!” I screamed. I could hear a giant paw step in through the front door. My bones snapped, cracked, and distorted. The pain was immeasurable, but the pain and sheer panic of losing my mother today was far worse. I wasn’t ready. I was not READY.  ‘I need to save her.’ Echoed through my head. And then I felt a presence within me, reassuring me. Almost like it was telling me that we would be successful. It was my wolf. At 14, I had just transitioned into a wolf. I wanted to be shocked, but I understood that there wasn’t time for that.  I bolted into the hallway, walking past my mother. She was still conscious, but barely. I howled, still sounding like a pup- because I was. I was tiny, and the wolf standing in front of me had to be at least 3 times my size. I didn’t falter, but let out another distress call.  My wolf was in charge, baring her teeth and telling him to back off. It was almost comical, being so small. She smelled the blood, and the more she smelled the blood of our loved ones, the hungrier she was to rip this stranger’s throat out.  She stepped towards him, showing him that she was not backing down. “We need to protect her,” I minded to my wolf. “Mom has to live. We can’t lose her.”  My wolf snarled. “I know.” I could feel her say. “Trust me.”  I don’t know how to explain what happened next. I could feel myself giving my wolf all of my trust, all of my power. I had felt like I was dissolving into her, and neither of us had unequal control. We’d become one entity, and in that our strength had increased. And maybe it was the shock factor of standing against a pup, or maybe it was because my wolf was smaller, faster, and more agile that gave us leverage. We charged at him, and he bore down, getting ready to move. As soon as he began charging, my wolf jumped and turned to the wall next to him, throwing him off guard. We flew at him from behind and immediately went for the kill. His neck was there, perfectly unprotected. Our teeth bared into him, our fangs quickly ripped his jugular open. Not only had we had the perfect clear shot, but we’d launched off the wall so hard that the force had allowed us to dig deep into his neck. He froze, blood spurting from his neck, the meat of his throat in our teeth.  We spit it out, moving in unison. Quickly, we charged outside and let out another howl. Not only were we looking for the other wolves, but we were begging, pleading for help. I wasn’t worried about what happened to me. I wanted my mother to live.  I could hear paws moving through the snow, and snarling. We turned to see two more wolves, white as snow, looking at us hungrily. One body against two. This was probably it, and I’d accept that. Today was the day I would meet my maker. At 14, I could accept this. There was one thing that I needed to accomplish in this life. I wanted my mother to experience happiness of her own, not happiness from her illness. I wanted her to live an exceptional life, and finally have the peace she needed.  She couldn’t do that if she was dead.  We howled one last time, long and strong. My mom was running out of time. I could still focus on her slow, shallow breathing. It sounded like blood had entered her lungs. I could hear it rattling.  We snarled at our opposers, starting to charge. I was ready. I could see exactly how they were going to get me. We’d charge at the one to the left first, and he would catch us, trapped jaw in jaw. The one to the right would instantly catch our jugular while restrained like that. Seemed quick enough, and hopefully it was enough time. The Goddess had granted my early transition for a reason, hadn’t she? She’d grant my wish. My mom was going to live.  We leapt up, three feet away from our oppressors. We were leaning towards the wolf on the left, and he kicked off the ground, getting ready to go jaw to jaw with me as I had predicted.  ‘Saionara.’ I said to myself and my wolf. My wolf was silent, determined. Almost like she knew we weren’t going to die here.  And just as our jaws were a kiss away, the white wolf was thrown to the side. A grey fuzz blew past my eyes, and I realized that help had arrived. I was so confused. How did that happen?  We didn’t have time to stick the landing and adjust. I saw the snow before we planted in it, almost burying ourselves.  I wanted to get up, but my wolf separated from me in that instant. She remained buried in the snow. ‘Rest.’ I felt her command. I was panicking, telling her we still had to help mom. She peered over the snow, where there were 5 familiar wolves and a tall, half-naked man running out of the house with mom in his arms unconscious. ‘Rest.’ The command came again, and instead of it being a choice, it became a spell. “Yes…” I agreed, feeling my conscious drift off. Maybe I was still dying, after all.