1:ʀɪᴘ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴀᴠᴀɢᴇ
′Andria,′ hissed my grandmother, her eyes sweeping over me in a very judgement manner. ’What is this filth you are wearing?′
’It’s Andi,′ I corrected, before self-consciously looking into the mirror to see what exactly was wrong with my outfit.
I was wearing relatively simple clothes. I had always been a firm believer in comfort over beauty, and that was why I decided to wear this instead of one of the many dresses which hung in my wardrobe. But besides that, my clothes weren’t that bad.
I wore a colorful blouse instead of one of my usual drab shirts which were two sizes too big for me. And my jeans? They were clean, which was very uncommon for me.
’It’s your eighteenth birthday,′ said my grandmother, still eying me condescendingly, ’and you chose to wear this?′ My grandmother loved belittling me - it had become a past time for her whenever she came to our house.
Though to be fair, eighteenth birthdays were a huge deal in my family. Everyone from my family had been invited. Some whom I hadn’t seen since I was six years old. Why were all of my relatives gathering for my birthday?
Not because I was becoming an adult, no - it was because for the last ten years, not a single person in my family had managed to survive to their eighteenth birthday. Not until me.
That was why my parents were throwing a huge party for my birthday, inviting everyone they knew. I doubted that I would know even half the people at the party, but I didn’t really mind. More people meant more presents, and who didn’t love presents?
‘Would it kill you to wear a dress?’ Yes, it would. I was sure I would die.
My grandmother was an old woman with very traditional views. She expected women to flaunt their femininity - and I was anything but feminine. Something which she berated for me numerous times.
I had lost count by now.
‘It’s my birthday,’ I said, crossing my arms protectively in front of my chest, ‘I should be able to decide.’
‘And who paid?’ Ah -she got me there.
She had offered to single-handedly pay for the whole party - and if that wasn’t enough, the party was being held in her backyard. If you could even call it that.
My grandmother was rich. Like lives-in-a-huge-mansion-by-the-ocean rich, which was the epitome of wealthy for me. I wasn’t saying my parents were poor - but they were a lot humbler, and they expected me to be the same. Bummer.
‘Which dress do you want me to wear,’ I said rather reluctantly, realizing that I did owe her this much.
My grandmother smirked triumphantly, making me feel the urge to hit her, despite her being my family and much older than me.
After a few minutes, I was standing in front of the mirror, frowning as I looked at the periwinkle dress which my grandmother had forced me into.
It wasn’t an ugly dress by any means. In fact, it was one of the most beautiful dresses I had seen in my life. A gorgeous blue color, reaching to mid-thigh. It was off-the-shoulder and made of a flowy material making it more comfortable than most dresses I had ever worn.
It was fashionable, that I won’t deny, but I still didn’t appreciate being manipulated into wearing a dress.
′Ay - see how beautiful you look,′ said my grandmother, tucking a brown strand behind my ear. ‘If you look like this all the time, then maybe boys will like you.’ I know my grandmother meant well, but sometimes was just downright rude. ‘Now, let us go to the party.’
Before I could even speak or even register what she had just said - she had grabbed me and was already pulling me out of the room and down the stairs.
I think my arm was bruising.
She dragged me all the way down to the backyard where the party had been set up. White and gold balloons decorated the many banisters. Party streamers were thrown artistically over the trees. Banners hung around the backyard.
All of my relatives, friends and even random strangers had gathered around a huge birthday cake which was elevated on a stage, towering over them all. Looking at them, I noticed that there seemed to be a dress code since everyone was either wearing white, or gold, or a mix of both.
The only exception to this was me in my periwinkle dress, standing out as I walked amongst a crowd of white and gold. Since it was my birthday, you’d think they would part so I could walk to the stage.
They did not.
I almost died but after a few minutes of struggling helplessly, I did manage to reach the cake uninjured. I climbed up the stage, with great difficulty and soon I was standing beside a cake which was taller than me. Though to be honest, most things were taller than me.
′Wow,′ I mumbled, gazing in amazement at the large cake which towered over me. ’This is awesome.′
My dad was a step stool, lighting the candles. I was surprised he was able to climb the ladder without breaking a leg, or an arm.
He was a very clumsy man.
‘My baby,’ I heard someone shriek before I was pulled into a suffocating hug. My face was peppered with kisses, while I tried to escape my mother’s iron grasp. ’My sweet, sweet baby.′
‘Mom,’ I whined, ‘I’m not a kid anymore.’
She finally released me, allowing me to breathe once more. Her green eyes were filled with tears, and she was dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief.
‘I know,’ she said, her entire voice reeked of sadness. ‘You’re an adult now.’
I was about to speak, but I was cut-off as my dad stumbled down the ladder having successfully lit all eighteen candles which topped the huge chocolate cake beside me.
It was guaranteed I would have diabetes in the future.
‘Time to blow the candles out,’ said my dad, pressing a kiss on top of my head, ‘try not to fall off the ladder.’
I smiled, before climbing up the ladder, gripping the sides like it was my firstborn son. When I reached the top, I couldn’t only blow out the candles - but I could also see everyone.
They were all singing Happy Birthday. Sure, it off-tune and off-time, but I was happy. Happier than I had ever been.
The moment was perfect.
Of course, nothing good ever lasted for long.
Because just as I took a deep breath to blow out the candles - something happened. Something bad.
A growl. An animalistic sound of a truly wild creature sounded through the backyard - and that was when a huge beast pounced.
And it was heading straight for me.
It was like a wolf. A wolf but much bigger. Massive. Monstrously so. Nothing about the creature seemed natural. Not it’s brilliant coat of gold fur, nor its red eyes which looked thirsty for blood. And definitely not the fact that it seemed dead set on killing me.
I should run. I should hide. I should do something - but I couldn’t. I was rooted to the ground, my feet refusing to budge despite every particle in my body screaming for me to run. For me to flee.
Screams and shrieks mingled in the cold air. Voices drowned out by the yells of terror. I was all but forgotten as everyone was trying to escape. To avoid the beast’s wrath.
′ANDRIA!′
I jerked back to reality, my senses returning upon the sound of the name which I hated so much. One of my uncles - Uncle Edgar - was sprinting in my direction, a crossbow in his hand.
Where had he gotten a crossbow from?
He was shouting something I couldn’t hear over the growls of the wolf-like creature which was bounding in my direction. Despite my obvious deafness to his words, I had a feeling... a feeling that he wanted me to kill the beast.
The wolfish beast, which was nearing by the second, it’s canines bared as it charged.
I was so dead.
And then - something strange happened.
I ran towards the beast.
It was as if something had possessed me - some feral instinct had been activated. I had never felt more strong - more powerful than I had at that moment.
I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing. That I had grabbed the wolf-like creature by the throat despite it being much bigger than me. And what I did next? I didn’t even think I was capable of such a feat - but I was.
Somehow.
I dug my nails through the beast’s thick fur and into its flesh, and I - I ripped out its throat, and with that... it was dead.
It took a second for the reality of the situation to register. For me to realize what I had just done. That I had just killed that - that thing with my bare hands.
Oh god, I killed something.
And something which was triple my size. Something which could kill me just by sitting on me.
I looked down at my hands. My fingernails were stained with blood, and a huge chunk of flesh sat limply at my feet.
What the hell had I just done?
