Red Madder

I am on the verge of punching someone in the face. I know just who it would be too. I am getting too far ahead of myself, though. My name is Rebecca. Before I was born, a strange, beautiful red fabric was given to my grandmother. She didn't buy it, just happened upon it in the marketplace one day. The old lady said it was meant for my grandmother to have it and that she would know what to use it for. My grandmother only partially believed in stories that she'd heard that were similar. That is until she opened her eyes after laughing to find the old woman gone, and infact all of the things that were for sale in the old woman's stall were gone. She took that fabric home with her that day and put it away. She didn't give the fabric another thought until I was born and she came upon it. She touched it and recalled the strange circumstances under which she received such a gift. As she thought of that day so many years ago, it came to here what she needed to do with it. When she was done, she felt like she was coming out of a trance. She held in her hands the most beautiful blanket, which she gave to me. I've been told I was most unpleasant as an infant, crying more often than not and causing my poor mother many sleepless nights. Until the blanket came into my possession. From then on, I was quiet and well behaved when the blanket was with me. When I outgrew dragging a blanket around with me everywhere I went, my grandmother decided to make me a cloak with what was left of the cloth. Taking it back out from where she had put it away when I was a baby, my grandmother inspected the cloth and figured she would make me a cape. Once again, she set to her work. Once again, she finished feeling as though she had been asleep, not recalling anything of the last hours that she assumed she worked and produced a cape. When she brought it to me and placed it around my shoulders, it fluttered to the ground, a full length cloak. My grandmother looked concerned, sure that there had not been enough fabric to make a full length cloak for my height. I was only 10 at the time, but still fairly much larger than the amount of fabric she has used. She could not imagine how she could have been so mistaken. Little did she know, the cloth the old lady gave her that day was imbued with a special magic. A magic that was meant for me to wield in the days to come from now. As a child the cloak seemed to protect me. I wore it everyday, everywhere I went. My mother could barely get it off of me when I went to bed and even then, she would wake to find it laying on top of my blankets. When children threw things at me, I would never be injured. When I fell, it was the same. I never took it off, even during the summer, when we played finding games in the forest, I was easier to find because I refused to put the cloak off. The children would call out, "Found you, Red! Found you, Red!" Which is how I got my nickname. In fact, I'd prefer if you thought of me as Red and forget that I told you my real name. As I grew, we realized the cloak was growing with me. It never needed washing, no matter what I had done when I was wearing it. And I would swear it beat up a strange man that tried to attack me not so long ago. Now, here I am sitting under a tree trying to figure out how to get myself out of my predicament. See, there's this guy following me, and he looks pretty weird. Almost like a wolf walking on two legs.