Mia (Age 20)
The icy air felt like needle pricks against my skin, but I refuse to let that stop me. Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep the pace. One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I feel the beat of each step course through me, fueling the drive to push further, go faster. My wolf is still for the first time in days, which is an accomplishment in and within itself.
Every week, it's the same with her. She wants out. I refuse, for the obvious reasons. One, we're in the inner city, it's rare to find a good spot to shift and it's not like I can just shift anywhere, like my apartment for example. Which leads to reason number two, my landlord will flip out if she even so much as hears a single growl from my apartment. Her rule was simple, I can have the place for cheap but no pets. Especially, damn near uncontrollable wolves.
Not only would my wolf jeopardize revealing our existence but on top of that my rent will increase, which will do neither of us any good. Especially, working off our meager budget. So, she'll have to be satisfied with the runs that I take whenever I get the chance.
Opening my eyes again, my wolf jerks me to the left as I narrowly miss hitting a light pole. Catching my footing again, I pull my thin Nike jacket tighter around my body and continue on with the run.
Diamonds litter the night sky tucked behind the skyscrapers of various businesses that never seem to close. They surround the small area of city approved forestry that encircles a wide lake. My footsteps beat along the cemented trail as I round the lake for the fourth time in....
I slowly come to a jog and then a stop as the realization of the time passage has me checking my phone. 9:04 p.m. Damn, I've been here for a while.
I pull my arms over my head and take a few deep breaths. It's late but luckily I have a free day tomorrow. Looking over at the lake, I pretend to stretch my legs as a couple strolls by. Appearances are everything. Especially, since this particular couple had noticed me sprinting non-stop for the last two laps.
Hey, wolf. I think to myself. It doesn't matter whether or not I talk to it since it can't speak back to me, but it feels weird not to from time to time. And besides, if I don't, it'll get fussy again. Are you gonna behave enough for me to get through these next few days?
No response. As always. But it doesn't seem to be trying to break out of me so I take it as a yes.
As I turn to head towards the tiny apartment I've called home for the last two years, a flash of white blinds me for a moment before the streetlights come back into view. I shrug off the strange feeling, but the sudden memory of her white hair pops into my head, bringing with it a tug of sadness.
Merida.
My stupid stepsister, that I left behind four years ago. The last time I thought about her was when I'd impulsively texted my biological sister Alex months ago. That day, I'd completed my medical tech certificate and I wanted to celebrate with someone. But then, remembering how I'm still on the run, I settled for texting her instead.
We didn't talk much after our parents divorce but after I turned fifthteen, she found me on one of my socials. The talks we've had then were spaced out over the months, even so after I ran away. Regardless, she still talked to me normally like she always did, never asking anything more than the usual.
I'm grateful for those small moments of normalcy in my otherwise unnatural life. As I reminisce about our past conversations, I remembered that I have to ask about Father the next time I text her.
As I walk down the street, I come to the realization that four years really passed so quickly. I've bounced from place to place, taking whatever job I could and doing whatever I could to keep this wolf at bay. It's been hard but manageable and I've grown used to being alone. Well, trying to grow used to it. It's not like I have a choice, I can't go back and I damn sure can't trust anyone. Not after what Peter did to me.
My jaw instinctively clutches as I hold my arms around myself. Four years have passed. What happened to me is over. Now, all I have to do is clean up the mess.
'The mess' meaning: Keep the beast at bay for the rest of life and make sure that Peter never finds me.
I take the stairs up to my apartment two at a time. Snatching the key from under a fake plant next to my doorside, I open the door to my quaint little space and step inside. My wolf shakes within a bit with the memory so I take to saying some reassurances. Repeating the phase to myself, so that it'll engrave itself in my head.
Peter will never find me.
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