3: Tell That To The Wolf That Murders Me In My Sleep Nearly Every Night

Ugh. Blindly, I grope the nightstand for the phone that has obnoxiously woken me up. My shaky fingers knock the earpiece off the base. Thankfully, it’s a really old phone and it dangles off the edge by its cord. “Hello.” I holler into the room as I reach for it.

I can hear Lyra yelling through the little speaker hole, “Get your butt down here. Now.”

“What time is it?” It feels like I just got into bed. “How did you get this number? Why are you even calling this phone?”

“You didn’t answer your cell. Now get ready. It’s well after ten and we’re going shopping.”

I knew I was going to have to leave at some point in time. I would prefer that it wasn’t today….or tomorrow or the day after or the day after that. “Whatever, I’ll be down in a minute.” Or maybe two or three or thirty.

She starts a countdown, “sixty. Fifty nine. Fifty eight.”

Groping for the dangling phone, I manage to hang up before she gets to fifty five. I’ll definitely be down way after she hits zero. It takes me a minute to crawl out of bed. I’m not sure what time it was that I fell to the floor from my nightmare. All I know it was late, really late by time I crawled back into bed and actually laid down like a normal person. What I didn’t do though is change out of my swimsuit.

A groan escapes my lips as I push through my exhaustion and stiff limbs to change into real clothes, jeans and t-shirt. A quick look in the mirror shows dark circles starting to develop under my eyes and my nightmares must have scared all the color in my skin away, because I’m looking deathly pale today.

Without looking at the clock, I shuffle out of the room as I make my way downstairs. The lower I go, the more busy it gets. The hotel is hustling and bustling this morning. Weaving my way around the main lobby, I spot Lyra and Eden. They don’t have wide smiles on their faces, but smiles nonetheless. The closer I get, I realize that she’s still counting down.

When I come to a stop in front of her she says, “negative seven hundred and ninety two.”

“You made that up.” I don’t put it past her to keep counting, but she probably stopped around negative ten. She mutters under breath something about being insulted, but I’ve learned that Lyra is a drama queen. Remember desperate housewife. “So where are we going?”

Eden takes the pleasure of answering. “Breakfast.”

“Lead the way.” As I twist around to the door, my back hitches halfway through. Lyra and Eden’s concerned gaze look at me questioningly. “It’s nothing. Just slept weird is all.” There’s no way I’m telling them that my shoulder is sore because of some residual pain due to being mauled by a wild animal in my nightmare. Not to mention that I fell off the bed in a panic.

Lyra quickly leads the way, but Eden stays at my side. “Did you get any sleep last night?” Is it that obvious? “We know that being back here is hard. Family can be brutal sometimes, but sometimes you have to face tough situations so you can grow from them.”

Tell that to the wolf that murders me in my sleep nearly every night.

The truth remains unknown to Lyra and Eden. They don’t know about how my mother died. Therefore, they definitely don’t know about the wolves. And they absolutely are unaware of my lack of memory from my time here. They just think that my mother died by means of a car accident and it tore our family apart. Hence, why Twyla is still here and not with dad and I.

I can’t help but to wonder what my mother would say with me being back here. Would she be proud of me confronting the past? Or pissed? She died trying to run away from this place and the beasts hiding within it. And here I am, walking the streets in broad daylight. Now if it was vampires I was hiding from, I would feel a little better walking around in the bright sunshine. But wolves look and act just like anyone until they turn into a huge furry angry dog.

There might be something that scares me more than angry werebeasts. Memories. What if being here knocks loose some memories of the first sixteen years of my life, which currently remains completely blank. Do I want to know what happened? I might prefer to remain naive. I mean people don’t just black out years of their lives because it was normal or pleasant. They do it as a way of protecting themselves from trauma. And what can be more traumatic than having werewolves kill your mother?

I continue to follow Lyra and Eden. I can’t help but to try to remain invisible and refuse to meet anyone’s eyes even though these people don’t know me. It's just the thought that they do. But it’s been eight years and I’ve changed. My hair is dyed and much shorter than it’s ever been…at least that’s what dad tells me. But most importantly, I’m not sixteen years old anymore.

Paranoia has time flying by. We stop at the coffee shop to order drinks and food. I don’t realize how hungry I am until I take my first bite. The boost of caffeine helps lighten my mood and keeps some of my paranoia at bay as we start to make our way downtown.

Lyra asks me if there’s any places that I want to go to, places they would like. My answer of no is more tragic than me being lame or stubborn. I literally can’t give them an answer, because I have no clue. I mean, even as we walk the streets, the same streets that I should have walked before, nothing looks familiar. If I wasn’t told that I lived here for sixteen years, I would’ve thought that this trip, right here and now, was my first time in the city.

“Lucky for you, I had Eden create us a whole itinerary. There's a few shops that we think you’d like and at four o’clock sharp, I have an appointment.” When her words drop away and she doesn’t further explain what said appointment is, I ask. The answer is expected, “it’s a surprise.” Taking in my horror stricken expression, she clarifies, “don’t worry. It’s my appointment.” She emphasizes the word ‘my’, which only eases some of the tension from my shoulders. 

I look to Eden for a clue, but she remains tight lipped. “Yay,” I mumble. My lack of enthusiasm brings a lighthearted smile to their faces.

The rest of the day goes better than I thought it would. We shop til our feet hurt. One shop, two shops, three shops. Hours spent in dressing rooms trying on clothes we picked out for ourselves and trying on stuff that was picked out for us. Lyra refused to let me leave one shop until I agreed to buy this one dress. There was no way I was buying that dress. Deep down I know she’s the one who wanted it.

With shopping bags filling our hands, we grab lunch at a food truck and stop at a couple more shops we pass by on our way to Lyra’s appointment. I expect to catch a glimpse of the storefront before we reach it, but she clearly points it out when she jumps to a stop, arms flying out as she screams, “ ta da.”

A tattoo parlor. “And what are you getting done?” Another tattoo? Is she planning on flashing some fresh ink to the twins by the pool later? She does realize that she won’t be able to go in the pool, right?

“I’m finally getting that piercing.” She nearly takes me off my feet as she crashes into me. Arms tangling around me, “we’ll be twins,” she squeals as she latches onto my arm, so forcibly her nails leave little crescents in my skin.

I nearly tumble into the shop where one of the artists immediately greets us. Lyra takes full control of the conversation as it is her appointment. Within minutes we’re led into a back room.

“She’s gonna cry.” Eden whispers.

“She better. I did.” And I did…because it hurt. The little stud in my right nostril might look cute, but that bitch nearly made me faint. And the weeks afterwards. Awful. The slightest touch, I would hiss with frustration. And forget sleeping. Especially being a stomach sleeper, it was nearly impossible.

Lyra’s glare lands on us and our giggles come to stop like we're scolded children. I can see her nervousness. The piercer can see it too as the woman tries to comfort her. “It’ll be quick. It will sting like a bitch, but it’ll be quick.” Sure it will.

It’s slow motion as Eden and I watch it happen. The needle lining up. The sharp stab as the woman jabs the needle through the cartilage of her nostril. I cringe, Lyra cringes or should I say yelps with an aggressive bout of swear words following. But once it’s done, Lyra pats away her tear streaks that she claims is just from her eyes watering before flashing us a huge smile and a full view of the dainty ring that loops around the edge of her nose.

Thankfully, after getting a hole stabbed into one of their heads, we make our way back to the hotel. Lyra abruptly stops in the middle of the lobby, eyes directed at me. “Go get freshened up, chill like I know you want to, but don’t get too comfortable as we made reservations for six at a restaurant a few blocks away. We’ll meet you right here,” she points to the ground we currently stand on, “at five thirty.”

“Do I have to?” I can only imagine what restaurant she chose. Something more upscale, because of the way she said ‘freshen up’, which means take a shower, put some makeup on and change out of your jeans. Otherwise, she would’ve just told me to meet them down here at five thirty.

“You’ll love it,” She coos as she turns away.

Eden hangs back for a second, “and we’ll come for you if you don’t show up.” Was that a threat? Before I can ask, she flashes me a smile and dashes away to catch up to Lyra.

For just this once, I keep my mouth closed and listen to the demand. If I thought for a second that I would be able to hide out in my hotel room, I wouldn’t have brought them along. With a heavy, heaving inhaled breath, I make my way to my room. I have what? A little more than an hour to get ready. And according to Lyra’s terms and conditions, I have a lot of work to do.

For a fraction of a second, I forget that I’m back in my deadly hometown. I walk the halls carefree and oblivious like a girl on a girl’s trip should do. But reality has a way of striking me down and when it does, I nearly crumble.

A girl struts down the hall, eyes glued on me, small smile to her lips. As she gets closer, I recognize her as one of the girls hanging all over Nox. I’m not expecting her to acknowledge me anymore than she has, but she goes as far to say ‘hey’ as she passes me.

“Hey,” I mumble back, completely thrown off. I immediately read into her simple ‘hey’. Is it a ‘hey, nice to see you again’ or is it ‘hey, I see you. Do you see me’ kinda ‘hey’.  It could be ‘hey, watch me go prance off to Nox’. As if I care.

I don’t enter my room until she rounds the corner. Better safe than sorry. She could just be friendly or she could be associated with Nox and for some reason that makes my stomach churn. I push aside the unwanted thoughts that assault my brain. I do not care. I do not care. If I chant it enough, I’ll believe it. Right? But for some reason, I can’t help to think about how I saw him up here yesterday. So who’s room is up here? Hers? Or his?

Staying occupied helps to keep the thoughts at bay, so the first thing to do is wash away all the bitterness. Does the shower last longer than it should? Yes. Once I get out, do I have just about half an hour to get ready before I have to meet them downstairs? Yes.

Racing through the motions is exactly what I need. I go straight to my most recent purchases, because my luggage holds nothing of interest. I may not have gotten the dress Lyra wanted me to get, but I did get a dress. Pulling the tags off, slipping it on along with some textured black tights I picked up from the same shop, should satisfy Lyra. Paired with the only shoes I brought with me, my combat boots, I march into the bathroom to finish up.

There’s not enough time to blow dry my hair until it’s completely dry, so slightly damp it is. With a quick coat of mascara and lipstick, I’m already late in getting downstairs. Huffing and puffing, I’m breathless by the time I reach the lobby, right where Lyra said I should meet them. But they’re not here.

I hang out by the doors for only so long before I take a seat in one of the empty lobby chairs and wait. After ten minutes, I text Eden. Should I go track them down? Pound on their door? Or should I sit here and let time pass. Maybe we’ll be too late for our reservation and will have to go somewhere else. Maybe even come back here and order in again.

A girl can wish.