“Please Clayton, let us go home. We won’t tell anyone, I promise. You could just let us out and then run away yourself; please?” Pleading won’t work, it never does. I try anyway, anything to get us out of this hell hole.
“I don’t want to let you go. I’m going to keep you. You’re mine, you belong with me. Soon Scott will have done what he wants and then we will leave. Together. You and I.” This is Clayton being nice, it’s amazing how quickly things can change though. He walks over to me and runs his hand down my face and I instinctively cower away from him.
“Don’t do that. Don’t turn away from me. You are mine, what don’t you understand?” he says harshly while grabbing a handful of my dirty unwashed hair and pulling my face closer to his. Tingles shoot all through my skin where it touches his, like painful pins and needles, as if my skin is being pricked. His smell is vile, I don’t think I have ever smelt anything so bad; bile rises in my mouth and I struggle to keep it down. Last time I didn’t, and I paid the price for it.
I continue to do what I always do, sit there in silence while he talks at me, I answer only when needed. My quick-thinking wit that I normally have has left me now, talking back to these people brings nothing but hurt. I don’t hear half of what he says though, in all honesty I do my best to block it out. The pain that strikes across my face as my body is knocked to the side making me fall from the hard chair I’m sat on brings me back to reality and I realise that I was asked a question I was expected to respond to. My hand closes over my face, applying pressure to my cheek to stop the sting and to protect it from further assault.
“Maybe you need a reminder.” His words are hard and said with a sick smirk. It’s almost like he has two personalities. One day he is nice and he is just happy to sit and tell me things, endlessly touching me though, just little touches to my hair, my face, my arm. Then other days someone else takes over his body. Even his eyes seem to take on a darker colour. It’s almost like he is possessed. I hate the times when I am separated from Alex, not knowing what’s in store for me and not knowing if she will even be alive when I get back to her. That maniac; Scott keeps cutting or biting her neck. I know I sound completely crazy, but it’s almost like he has gotten an animal to bite her, then she keeps having these fevers that rack through her body. I can’t even think about what would happen if…
He waves his hand in front of my face to make me look at his deranged face and points a single finger at me.
“Watch. Maybe now you won’t be so forgetful.” My eyes widen in fear and a scream lodges itself in my throat, unable to be released. His nail inhumanly starts to grow, a long pointed yellow claw like nail replaces his dirt covered stubby nail and he pulls my arm towards him. I pull away from him, trying to kick him but it’s no use, his strength is ten times more than mine, and lack of nutrition for the past however long we have been held for has only given him a greater advantage over me. He straddles me and I fight harder, feeling too vulnerable in this position, his smile grows bigger and a growl leaves his chest, I fear my fighting is only exciting him more so I suddenly still and watch on in horror.
He holds my arm firmer and pulls it back towards him once more, running his other hand with his elongated nail down my arm. Burning pain sears through my skin as his nail pierces my delicate skin and my scream finally rips through my dry cracked lips. His filthy nail digs in and carves something on the inside of my forearm, I squeeze my eyes shut to the pain and struggle to pull away once more, but again his strength is too much and I scream out.
“Amber, baby it’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re home… shh…you’re home” I feel warm arms embrace me and I hear the soothing voice of my mother. I open my eyes and take in my surroundings, my cream walls, covered in photos of myself and friends and family, my pink duvet cover on the floor, where it usually is after I’ve kicked and thrashed around in my bed during my now regular nightmares. My sweet mum, tears in her eyes, wanting so desperately to help me, but not knowing what to do or say to actually help me.
The truth is though is that nothing and no one can help me.
Six whole months had passed since Logan and Shawn had saved us, and our nightmare was over. But for me it never ended. Each night I relived different parts of it. Sometimes it’s in the right order, sometimes it’s all jumbled up. There are times when it’s not even memories but just my biggest fears. That he is back, that Clayton didn’t die. That this time he gets what he wanted; but then I have to remind myself that he is dead. Logan had said they didn’t leave any alive. Clayton won’t ever get chance to get me again and that should take away my fear, but it doesn’t. Nothing ever does.
When my nights aren’t filled with memories of him; they are filled with memories of her.
Vicky... Six months ago, we lost her. I had known Vicky all through high school but never really knew her. When Alex started at our school, we formed a quick friendship, which led to me becoming actual friends with Vicky too. Vicky was everything I am not. She was strong and brave and would face anything head on. She had courage and she gave her life to save myself and Alex when we were taken and held captive for over two weeks.
In my dreams though Vicky always transformed. Into one of them.
Werewolves. Real life werewolves. Sound crazy I know but monsters really do exist. There are two kinds of werewolves, there are the nice ones and the rogues. I’m struggling to see the difference at the moment. Obviously, I know there clearly is a difference, we were saved from werewolves, by werewolves and Vicky was nothing like Scott or Clayton, but still in my head all I see are the bad ones. And my beautiful friend transforms into a horrifying creature, only to still end up dead anyway.
Alex and Jasmine have tried to show me that there is a difference between the wolves. That not all weres’ are the same but I just don’t feel safe. I’m grateful to each and every wolf from Logan’s pack; that’s what they call their group of wolves, but I’m still scared to death of them. Alex keeps trying to invite me over there; to Logan's house to hang out, but the thought of being somewhere where I would be surrounded by wolves, only being one of very few humans absolutely petrifies me.
Jasmine keeps trying to talk to me, but I know she can see the fear in my eyes when I look at her. I don’t mean it and I really don’t want to upset her; I know with absolute certainty that Jasmine would never hurt me, but all I see when I look at any of them is him. I know Logan is good, Jasmine is good… Vicky was good, but there’s still a reason why Chris left.
Why he hunts them.
“Why don’t I make you a nice hot chocolate sweetie?” My mother’s gentle voice asks me, as she does every night when I wake her with my shouts and screams. She has given up asking me if I want to talk about it. I don’t. They say talking helps, I fail to see how or why.
“No thanks” I say to her glancing at my clock to check the time.
“I’m going to get up and when the suns up I’ll go for a run.” She frowns at me; she hates me going out by myself but it’s the only time my head feels almost quiet. Almost empty. Almost… but not quite.
“I’ll stay to the main roads and just go through town. Nothing to worry about.” She hugs me once more and leaves my room closing the door quietly. I have about forty minutes until sun is up.
I strip out from my sweaty bed clothes and rinse off in the small shower room attached to my room, I’ve lost weight in the last six months, my dad keeps on at me to eat more, but some days I just don’t feel like eating, apparently it’s all part of the healing process. Stepping out of the shower and wrapping my towel around me; I catch sight of my arm. It’s still there as a daily reminder, just as he wanted.
His initials; C.D.
Etched into my skin forever. Long sleeves always cover it, hiding it from everyone else. A few people know it’s there, but I do a good job of hiding it. Everyone knows though what happened. Well they know the half-truth they were told to believe. But that’s the thing about small towns everyone knows everyone’s business, people love to gossip, and they believe anything.
Graduation came and went; it wasn’t the big deal I’d always thought it would be. My views on things changed after… well after everything that happened. I smiled and made my way through the remainder of school, my teachers giving me extra time to do assignments so I could get the grades I needed, which I just about got.
I started college a week ago, I thought about moving away to college, but the thing is with these wolves is that they are literally everywhere, at least here I know who some of them are. If I moved; I would always be questioning people, wondering if they were human or something other. I didn’t need that extra hassle, so our local college is where I am. I’m studying to be a kindergarten teacher, Alex joined with me there too. I guess she didn’t want to leave Logan and the pack seeing how she is now their future leader or whatever. She’s studying biology and wants to go on to study medicine but can’t decide between humans or animals. I guess I can sort of see her issues for deciding, her future is literally surrounded by people who are part human; part animal.
Logan is there also along with some pack members; it’s not like he would ever let Alex to go anywhere unprotected, it’s sweet actually to watch them together, they are so in tune with each other and obviously devoted to each other. They are what werewolves call mates, the other half of their soul. Someone to cherish and protect, there’s signs that let them know who they are to each other and a mate is unable to physically hurt their other half.
However, I have my own reasons for not truly believing in all of that... and the scars to prove it.