In 1890, my great-grandmother Takoda was only a child when her ancestors told her stories while they huddled around the campfire with handmade blankets from buffalo hide. Later, she told my mother the same stories about humans who could walk on all fours and pale skins and drink your blood. Nowadays, no one talks about the past, which leads us to believe they are just scary stories the tribe elders tell for fun or to put fear into the youngsters so we won’t enter the woods outside our borders. However, I believe nothing they say. But my grandmother does and never lets my family forget it. I usually get grounded for laughing at her, thinking she’s a crazy old woman.
The story of my great-grandfather is one that my grandmother sears into our brains. He was killed by ‘the creatures’ while saving our tribe. She says the Alpha of the pack helped him escape the blood-sucking leeches after being attacked in the woods, leaving him wounded too severely to make it out on his own. But I never understood why the Alpha would help him. Anyone who crosses that border is as good as dead, so what is the Alpha’s reasoning?
Later, they agreed to a treaty between our tribe and the night stalkers, also known as werewolves. The tribe is never to go outside our borders onto their lands, and they won’t come onto ours. But again, it’s only a story. There isn’t actual proof that any of this happened.
My mother and father are from the Shoshone tribe in Blackfoot, Idaho. They are traditional Native to the core, but unfortunately, they gave me none of their genes. My mother’s long black hair reaches her knees, always in a side braid. Her deep brown eyes are as sweet as chocolate and so welcoming. All the kids in our tribe love her. That’s why she has a daycare on the reservation.
My father’s very handsome. Sway, my brother has all his features.
Lucky.
My dad’s long black hair is always in the traditional braid down his back, and his dark eyes are fierce and severe. He’s built like an ox and has an aggressive demeanor that terrifies my friends, or, should I say, friends. I only have one.
My dad is a big teddy bear, but no one else knows. He never shows his kind side around others. His father came from a long line of warriors, so it runs in his blood to be tough, unlike me, who fears an ant-sized spider.
I am the total outcast of the tribe. The kids at school think my mother must have cheated because there is no way I came from the two of them. I am the outsider here and often feel like the enemy. But Sway was quite popular, which made my family proud and made me look even worse.
Enough rambling on about my family and uneventful life for now. We can come back to that later.
It’s another dreadful morning with a day of torture ahead of me. Getting out of bed is always the worst. Sometimes, I wish Tinker Bell would drop by in the middle of the night as she did in Peter Pan and whisk me away, but that’s too much to ask to fly off to Never-Never land.
The only one who helps me feel normal is my best friend Jay, my protector in this town of assholes and the football captain. No one dares say a word to me when he's around, but he can’t always be there every second of every day.
“Sakari?” my mother yells outside my door. “You up?”
I lift my head off the pillow, glance at her shadow that creeps under my door, and then sigh before answering. “Yeah,” I grumble back.
“Hurry, breakfast is ready,” she shouts, returning to the kitchen.
Once her shadow disappears, I plop my head back on the pillow and lay there a few minutes longer, staring at my ceiling. I wish a giant black hole would appear, sucking me out of this place and back to wherever I am from. Or maybe I’d get lucky with an alien invasion, but it’s off to kill my dreams and self-esteem for now.
Only a few more weeks and I am finished with this town.
I force myself out of bed.
Honestly, I dread breakfast with my family. It makes me feel like they only want to judge me instead of Knowing How I am or if I met a boy. Wait, who am I kidding? They already know the answer to that one. The only boy in my life is Jay. And he’s like my brother.
My parents talk with Sway about his big game Friday against our rivals as I enter the dining room. Shaking my head, I think to myself.
Even my family thinks I am a loser compared to Mister Perfect.
I glare at Sway. It’s not his fault everyone thinks he’s perfect. He’s the oldest by five minutes. We are twins, but no one would know because we are fraternal.
I shrug it off and approach. My mother looks up, annoyed. “Sakari, what are you wearing? You literally look like you rolled out of bed,” she proclaims, giving me the evil eye. My glamorous oversized sweater, leggings, and fluffy kitty house shoes look unsuitable for my mother’s taste.
I can’t control my eye roll. “Mom, I’m sorry I’m not the trophy daughter you always wanted, but I’m sure trophy son over there makes up for all my disappointment,” I say, irritated, grabbing a piece of toast from my brother’s plate. Sway glares up at me, and I smirk, taking a big bite, irritating him even more. I head towards the door before my family can ridicule me anymore.
As usual, Jay is waiting in my drive. “Morning, Kari!” he smiles with his usual charm.
Jay’s been my friend since we ran around in diapers, and for as long as I can remember, he called me Kari. He never liked the first part of my name. He always said it didn’t suit me.
As I explained earlier, I am different from my tribe. My skin is like sun-kissed milk and honey, with tiny freckles around my nose and a head full of chestnut curls and a hint of red highlights. My eyes are as green as an emerald diamond. So, imagine having your entire tribe, the only culture you know, not accept you. I’m not native enough to them, yet I’m only a Rez girl outside the reservation.
“Morning, dork,” I reply with a playful smile as I jump in Jay’s jeep and punch his shoulder playfully.
Jay shakes his head, laughing while I toss my bag in the backseat. “What?” I shrug in question.
“Oh, nothing.” he laughs again, then backs out of my drive.
Jay’s girlfriend Jasmine greets him in the parking lot with a slobbery kiss, then glares at me.
She hates me. Why? I have no clue. She has nothing to worry about but still takes every moment to keep us apart. Jay says he doesn’t see it, but he has known Jasmine for all of five minutes. Of course, he can’t see it.
Before Jay can even say goodbye, Jasmine yanks him from the jeep, leaving me alone, as usual. I sigh, grab my bag from the back, and head for my first class.
The typical stares from my peers make me feel uncomfortable. After spending my whole life here, you’d think everyone’s used to my different appearance. Nope, they constantly taunt me for my differences.
As I enter my classroom, I take my seat, and soon, the teacher announces today’s assignment.
“Morning, class. Today, we will remember when wolves and fangs were our biggest enemy.” Mr. Granbury announces.
Back to the conversation earlier, the urban legends of Blackfoot go far back. The Shoshone tribe had many run-ins with them, as my people called them night stalkers, because they only rummaged through the fields late at night. They turn into humans only during full moons, which is the other way around in all the movies. Some say a witch put a curse on them, keeping them in wolf form and only human for the short days of the full moon.
The fangs are blood-sucking leeches of the night, killing off our people in great numbers. They wanted to take over our lands and create a safe place for their kind to feed. Our tribe leaders believe the night stalkers helped the fangs until that fateful night when my great-grandfather got attacked, barely escaping with his life.
Even today, our people still believe the fangs lurk in the darkness. We still aren’t allowed to go into the woods outside our borders. They say we won’t make it back alive, and the elders burn that into our heads.
I never really bought into all that bullshit. Where’s the proof? No one has ever seen them, which makes me believe whatever my ancestors were smoking was some really good shit.
The building shakes violently, interrupting my head’s conversation and tossing me out of my seat onto the floor. Bricks from the sidewalls fall, hitting some of my classmates and barely missing my feet. Frantic, I hurry under my desk for cover as others scream, getting hit with falling debris.
The intensity finally dissipates and soon fades completely. I hesitate and keep my head covered with my forearms while my knees are against my chest before slowly glancing around, thinking it may not be over. Earthquakes don’t happen in Blackfoot. Either it pissed the earth off about how shitty humans treat it, or something else is happening.Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mr. Granbury is the first to move, looking for hurt students. “Everyone, we need to move outside as quickly as possible,” he announces as he climbs over fallen bookshelves and broken ceiling particles, helping students out of the debris.Several bloody classmates whine in pain as the teacher crosses the room, removing the bricks and drywall from them. The fire department rushes in, grabs the wounded, and ushers the rest outside to safety. They escort those with no injuries into the hall, where the gym is now a giant sinkhole.Firefighters and police scurry around, taking the injured towards waiting ambulances
The legends are true. Both night stalkers and fangs are very much real, and I’m standing between the two.How could I be so oblivious to it? Always scoffing at my grandmother’s stories. Maybe this is my punishment for being a brat and not listening.There is nowhere for me to go. The only choice I have is to decide if I want to die by the night stalkers or the fangs. I think I’ll take my chances with the wolves. They seem like they’d give me a quick death. The bloodsuckers would probably keep me around for feedings, letting me die slowly and painfully.There’s no more time for thinking. So, I make a choice and run towards the wolves.The larger of the wolves tilts his head, confused.He must think, what a dumbass.I'm going to die anyway. Why should I care what everyone thinks of me? I never did before. It's not like anyone likes me anyway. I can see it now - the whole reservation celebrating my death. A crowd of my peers cheering and clinking their glasses of beer, happy that they ar