CHAPTER 5
1063 Words
Music pulses through my earbuds as my sneakers crunch softly against the dirt path, the beat syncing with the steady rhythm of my breath. The trail behind my house is familiar, etched into my bones like muscle memory. Towering pines stretch above me, their branches netting the moonlight and casting shadows that shift with the wind. I’ve run this path so many times, I could probably do it blindfolded.
Running has always been my sanctuary—my escape from the constant hum of the world and all the noise that comes with it. School. Expectations. The tightrope walk of being a teenager trying to make everyone happy. Here, with the scent of pine and damp earth in my lungs, I can just be. The rest of the world fades behind me with each stride.
Asphalt makes me feel caged. Sidewalks are for people with destinations, with checklists and maps. But here, on the wild ground, my thoughts can finally stretch their legs.
Tonight, though, my mind refuses to settle.
Prom. Jared. Lyra.
Her words still echo in my head, no matter how loud I crank the volume.
“You’re not someone he could bring home.”
“Not good enough for him.”
I told myself she was just being cruel. That it didn’t matter. But it hit something—some buried truth I hadn’t wanted to face. Not because I believed her. Not entirely. But because part of me has always wondered the same thing.
Would I want to go to prom with Jared? Of course. Who wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous, sure—but that’s not it. He sees me. Really sees me. We’ve had each other’s backs since middle school, and sometimes, when his fingers brush mine or he looks at me a second too long, I wonder… could there be more?
But then he pulls away. Every time. Like he’s holding himself back.
And I never push, afraid of what might happen if we crossed that line. Afraid of what I’d lose.
College looms like a glittering promise and a looming threat. I should be excited—I am excited. Cal State wants me. Full ride. Track scholarship. New city. New life. A blank page.
Everything I worked so hard for is finally happening.
So why does it feel like I’m about to lose something instead of gain it?
Why does the thought of leaving him behind make my chest ache?
Maybe space will help. Maybe putting miles between us will finally quiet the voice in my head that always asks what if.
A twig snaps.
I freeze, slowing to a jog, then a walk, yanking one earbud out. The forest is suddenly too quiet. Just the wind and the rustle of leaves. My skin prickles.
I scan the trees. Nothing. Just shadows.
Probably a raccoon.
Still, my heart rate ticks up. I pick up the pace again, trying to shake the unease curling in my stomach.
Then I hear it. A low, unmistakable growl. I stop dead.
Two eyes gleam in the darkness ahead—reflecting the moonlight in a way no animal’s should. Then another pair appears. Both sets belong to wolves. Huge wolves. One dark, nearly black, its teeth bared, growling deep in its throat. The other—taller, almost regal in posture—has a silver coat that glows like frost under the moonlight.
I can’t move.
The black one lunges and instinct takes over.
I scream, bolting off the trail and crashing into the underbrush. Branches claw at my skin, roots snatch at my feet. I hear the thunder of paws behind me, too close. My ankle twists painfully as I stumble down a small slope, but I force myself up, pushing through the panic.
Then—another growl. Deeper. Commanding. Not the same as before.
I glance back.
The silver wolf stands between me and the other, body low, teeth bared. The black wolf paces, snarling, but doesn’t attack. It’s… hesitant. The silver wolf doesn’t flinch. There’s something intelligent in its eyes. Something terrifying.
Then they’re on each other.
A blur of fur and teeth and fury. They crash together with snarls that make my blood run cold. I don’t wait to see who wins.
Half-limping, heart in my throat, I find the trail and run. I don’t know how far it is back to the neighborhood—I just know I have to get there. The pain in my ankle is sharp, but adrenaline keeps me going. My lungs burn. My hands are scratched and bleeding. But I don’t stop until I see the glow of the porch lights up ahead.
By the time I reach my front door, I’m trembling so hard I nearly drop my keys. The quiet street looks so normal. Peaceful. My house sits there like nothing’s wrong, as if the world hasn’t just shifted beneath my feet.
The lock clicks. I slip inside and slam the door behind me, twisting the deadbolt before I slide down to the floor, back pressed against the wood. Silence wraps around me, but it’s not comforting. It’s wrong.
Everything feels wrong.
My legs are scraped, my ankle throbs, my palms sting from where I caught myself on gravel. My heart is still thudding against my ribs, like it’s trying to break free. The air in the house feels too still. Too clean. I can’t catch my breath.
I drag myself upstairs, shutting my bedroom door behind me like it might keep the fear out. But the moment I’m alone, the sob lodges in my throat.
I could’ve died.
Tears blur my vision as I collapse onto my bed, curling into myself.
And then, like a lifeline, my thoughts go to Jared. I need to talk to him. I need him.
I fumble for my phone, hands shaking. No messages. No missed calls. No notifications.
Where is he?
I try to tell myself he’s busy. That there’s a normal explanation. But something in my gut twists. I know him. He wouldn’t ignore me. Not like this.
The silver wolf flashes in my memory. The way it moved. The way it protected me.
I sit in the dark, my phone clutched in my hand, and replay everything over and over in my mind. The growls. The eyes. The blur of fur. The sheer fury of that fight.
I don’t sleep.
Not really.
- Writer
