When the clock strikes twelve

Emberlilly

Petrified is a word to describe how I was feeling . Scared out my wits , because I didn’t what was going to become of me. What was going to become of my sister and I .

The rain thumped on the windows of my aged house begging to come inside. It raved on and on through the night . It was the only thing I could pay attention to , or else I was sure to crumble . Like how my reality was, crumbing in a mere moment. All the same , I didn’t want to face that, yet. I would rather listen to sound of music that the rain made . I would rather smell the sweet wetness of outside. I would rather feel the stickiness of the Florida humidity that creeped through a slight opening of the window.

CLACK

" Ugh, ” I said as I closed the worn window down . Why couldn’t everything be as easy as closing a window when its rainy outside? See a problem ? Solve it . Easy . Piece of cake . But nooooo , it’s not that easy. Unfortunately for me .

Sometimes, I reminisce when we would all sit at the table for dinner. All of our awkward conversations with our Dad . I especially remember one conversation particularly . Alma started to like our next door neighbor, Lucas , and Dad found out about it somehow . That ' conversation’ was definitely one in the books . He threw a fit . A literal tantrum, imagine a forty year old short Latino man with no hair throwing a fit . The entire time , I was stiffing a few giggles. Mama tried to calm her hothead of a husband down .Still, It didn’t help when she kept mentioning to him ′ to remember how they were when they were younger’ . They must of have done some dirt ,because I swear I saw him turn red .

KSHHHHHHHHHHH

What. the .hell ....was that ?

" Damnit , ” I heard my dad growl .

“Alma! Go get your sister,” Mama squawked immediately after .

Then, I crumbled with my reality . I no longer could hear the pitter patter of the rain . It was like it stopped suddenly, but that wasn’t true . I looked out the window, and saw that rain continue to rage on despite my feelings, and well being . The world kept going, and was ignoring my vehemence of what was to come. My head was spinning, and my stomach was turning . I felt a wetness on my cheeks and felt it roll to my lips . More tears came in drones, leaving my eyes in a hurry. I became acquainted with the taste of saltiness. A sob escaped my mouth . As I felt myself crumbling I looked at myself in the reflection of the worn window.

Oh god help me .

I should have left . As fast as I could've. I should've ran away from this nightmare . I could've went to the city! Imagine me in the city. On the streets , but I'd be someone new. I wouldn't be Emberlilly . Emberlilly has to go through A SERIES of life changing events . PLURAL!

I knew she was coming- The High Priestess . Mama got a call a few days ago, it seemed to spook her . She started to talk to Alma and I about attending some boarding school. I begged her not to make us . She was trying to change our perspectives on about living there , and not here . Saying its the lifestyle change we need .

I know the way we live isn't luxurious, but it was all I needed . I had my family . That was all I needed , but Mama didn't see that . My parents worked hard . They did a lot for us . So we wouldn't feed into the narrative of the Black people and Latinos you see on TV. They made sure we didn't live in the ghetto . They made sure we had a good education.

Mama is all about education . She always sat down with us when we did our homework. I guess why she's so persistent about us going to that boarding school . She said it was some sort of private school. The way mama explained it was that the children in private schools have the best education.

The girl I saw in the reflection was heart broken . Her eyes held such disappointment, worry , and- fire? . Despite that fire in her eyes ,she was down right miserable . Her hair seem lopsided . That was only because early that evening she was pressed against the door trying to listen to her parents conversation with a High Priestess . She knew her afro would stay like that until she fixed it . It would constantly take form of whatever she was pressed against . As if it was water taking up the shape of a container . Yet, she didn’t care to fix it . Her eyes were red and swollen . Her nose was red - which many would believe to be impossible for a black person of her skin tone , yet it wasn’t . In that very same reflection she saw her sister stand in her doorway .

Alma .

She had a slender figure . Gorgeous is one word to describe Alma. She was sapling-thin and her lips were lushes. Oh and her skin complexion, don't get me started . It was a glossy bronze color, soft and smooth . Her silky midnight black hair toppled over her defined brown shoulders. Alma didn't like her natural hair as much as I did . She always flat ironed it . That's why the bathroom always smelled of burnt hair as if it was a hair salon.

Its funny how Genetics play a role . Alma and I are both brown skinned , just like mama . While my Dad is , well a little tan , but you can unquestionably tell the difference between our skin tones. You would think it wouldn't matter nowadays. That's anything but true . All the weird looks Alma and I got when we were at our Dad's family reunion , for sure , said more than what was actually spoken . I know its because I'm not Latina enough for them. I'm too black , but I know there's nothing wrong with being black.

Too bad they won't get to see my black ass that much. Fuck me .

Alma looked as if she’d seen a ghost . At that very instant, I could tell something had happen . With mama calling to get me and now the look on her face . That night will forever burn in my head.

The High Priestess stood right behind Alma , and gripped her black leather gloved hand on Alma’s shoulder . The High Priestess’s eyes beaded down on me through her wicked looking black glasses . Her body clothed with a long black closed leather jacket . She wore a black turtleneck that helped accentuate her slim long dark neck. Her hair was long and silky looking . What amazed me was that it didn’t have one gray strand , it was beautifully black and thick . I mean, one would think to get such a prestige title like ,High Priestess, you’d have to be older . She had to be no older than forty. If she wasn’t and she didn’t get her title because of her age . It had to be how dignified she seemed .

I tore my eyes from her harsh stare, and looked down at her black closed toed heels . She said nothing to me after that .

****

I recall her seeming like the Wicked Witch back then. I was right , to say the least .

Last thing I remember is leaving the house I called home - we called home . Without so much as goodbye from my parents .

Looking back on it, there was no doubt in my mind that my heart missed a few beats earlier that evening ( it would explain a lot now ) . I was scared about how everything would change in an instant . How my reality would begin to crumble if the, High Priestess took us , and it did . Everything did change from that moment on . Nothing would ever be the same. We- my sister and I ,would never be the same.

~

end of chapter one!!

what did y’all think? I would like to say this is my very first Werewolf story . So I’m super excited !!

Remember to vote ,comment , and share my Lovelies .

Please don’t be scared to criticize ! I would love some feedback !