Sara

“So, I’m ready to go,” I stand at the kitchen door with a bag in hand.

Mum continues scrubbing the countertop without looking at me. Dad folds his paper, placing it on the table he’s sitting at and looks up.

This isn’t a typical day, and I’m not going to college, nor am I going on holiday with my friends. I don’t have friends, my parents didn’t like it, and everyone avoided the weird girl at school.

No, I’m being thrown out of my home by the people who swore to love me forever.

When Jill and Paul Nicolles adopted me at the age of two, they committed to becoming my parents. They promised that they’d never turn their back on me, no matter what.

Jill and Paul gave me a pleasant childhood, albeit lonely. They didn’t like me going out or making friends. They kept a tight leash on me and sheltered me from bad things – all things, if I’m honest.

I was twelve when they told me that I was adopted. I found out only because I was curious why I didn’t look like either of them, not even slightly. I had different coloured hair and eyes to them, my skin was tanned where theirs was fair, and even my smile was different.

Not only that, but I heard them talking one night about when the day comes for them to tell me. I wasn’t sure what they meant until Paul said that he and Jill couldn’t keep the truth of my parentage from me forever. He said that I’d already begun to ask questions, and it would be easier if they told me that I was adopted rather than have me ask more questions they couldn’t answer.

I was shocked to hear his words and even more surprised when Jill said I shouldn’t have realised anything so soon. The woman was adamant that she’d made sure I’d never ask. Paul mentioned something about my mind being stronger than Jill had anticipated.

So, Paul and Jill sat me down and told me how they’d adopted me at the age of two. They’d chosen me especially out of a handful of children, and I wasn’t to ask about my birth parents because no one knew anything. I was abandoned on the doorstep of a local care home without any trace of whom I might belong to.

Jill said that I should be grateful that somebody wanted me; it’s not like anyone else had come forward to adopt me in the two years previous.

Even at the age of twelve, I was offended that they would say such a thing to me, though it shouldn’t have shocked me. It wasn’t as if Jill and Paul hadn’t knocked the confidence out of me from the moment I could understand what they were saying.

Don’t get me wrong, they loved me, showed love to me in their own way, but they had to make sure I wouldn’t leave them. They wanted me to need to be near them so they wouldn’t lose me, even if I still don’t know why they did that.

It was the biggest shock of my life, finding out that I was adopted, and I felt as though everything I knew was a lie.

I wanted to know everything about my birth parents and where they came from, why they gave me up, and if I was a mistake. I begged Jill to give me any information she had. I was curious about where I came from; surely, I was allowed to ask questions?

Jill was super angry with me, and she yelled how she’d already told me that I’d been abandoned.

How the hell would she know who they were if the authorities didn’t?

Jill called me a selfish brat and that she’d raised me for ten years as her own and never once made me feel as though I wasn’t her child.

What gave me the right to be so selfish?

I pushed back, trying to make Jill understand that I loved both her and Paul, and I never meant any disrespect. They would always be my parents, and I never wanted them to think that I wasn’t grateful for the life they gave me. But I had to know where I came from - nothing would change, and it’s not like I wanted my birth parents to take me back.

All I wanted was to know why they didn’t want me and maybe find out if they were just too young to take care of me. I wanted to know if I could have inherited any illnesses that may need medical attention in the future. I wanted to know if I had siblings and whether or not my birth parents kept them or gave them away as they did me.

I just wanted answers to the many questions rushing through my young mind.

Jill screamed how they didn’t want me for a reason, and perhaps they were dead. There was no way of knowing who they were or how to find them. If I mentioned anything again, she’d make me sorry that I was ever born.

That day, Jill slapped me to the ground before grabbing Paul’s belt and beating me with it, screaming how selfish and ungrateful I was. I begged her to stop, but she was so angry it was as though she lost herself for a while there.

The woman who raised me broke me that day.

When Paul came home, Jill told him everything that happened. He was displeased that she’d hurt me, and he came to talk to me. I didn’t say anything; I listened to what he had to say, his excuses as to why Jill hurt me. I’d caused her emotional pain, and I should realise how lucky I was to have been chosen. They could have left me in the children’s home to rot, but they didn’t.

Paul checked my body for injuries, of which there were a few. I didn’t understand where all the marks Jill caused had gone. It’s as though they vanished into thin air. Jill has split my lip where she hit me with the back of her hand. Then my back and legs, not to mention my arms where I tried to protect myself, were covered in lacerations from the belt, but I didn’t have more than two fading marks on my body.

Paul wouldn’t believe that I had been hurt the way I said I was, and he told me what would happen if I ever lied about Jill again. How could I be so nasty? Jill may have hurt me, but it wasn’t as bad as I was making out.

I couldn’t give him any answers because I didn’t understand. Maybe I was losing my mind, and I’d imagined the marks all over me. Paul then gave me a guilt trip about what mean lies could do and how if I take a look at things, they weren’t so bad. He then told me that if I ever brought up my birth parents again, he’d do more than beat me with his belt.

I apologised to both Jill and Paul and promised that I would never speak about my birth parents again. Nor would I let slip to their friends or the neighbours that they weren’t my birth parents.

No one knew the truth because we moved around so much. We never stayed in one place for more than a couple of months until we moved to this sleepy little town of Lakebrooke, that is.

I was fifteen when we moved here, and to the outside world and the people of Lakebrooke, we were a happy family. Paul and Jill were well-liked in the community, and I was their well-behaved little girl.

I had thought we’d be moving again no sooner had we move here, but Jill seemed to settle for the first time in forever. I was happy because I hated moving. All I ever wanted was a place to call home. With Jill settling here, so could I.

People often wondered why I didn’t make friends easily. They’d make comments at neighbourhood barbeques and birthday parties that my parents would force me to attend. Something we had never done anywhere else we’d live. But Jill would tell her friends that I was shy and prefered to be at home. I never argued the case, nor did I mention that it wasn’t fair that Jill and Paul were allowed friends, but I was not.

Though I kept my promise not to bring up the adoption or to find my family again, Jill was never the same with me. Our relationship broke down somewhat. Of course, she still interacted with me, came to my school plays, and baked cakes with me on Sunday’s. However, the hugs and kisses, even the I love you’s, were few and far between.

I gave up trying to get Jill to love me as she once did. I also gave up saying sorry because there are only so many times a person can say that word before it becomes mundane.

I got on with my lonely life until one evening five months ago. Something happened to me, and I was terrified.

I was lying in my bed, and I suddenly became hot and uncomfortable. Jill and Paul were out for the evening, so I was alone. I suddenly couldn’t breathe; everything zoned in, brighter, louder. My nails seemed to grow, and my gums ached.

I climbed out of bed and rushed to the window; I needed air. My back suddenly snapped, and I screamed, but that scream sounded like a howl. My heart raced, and the fear spiked higher when a voice inside my head told me to run.

The voice seemed to be coming from not only inside my head but all around me. I didn’t even think about hurting myself; I jumped out of the window, landed on my feet, and ran for my life.

I ended up in the middle of Dalgaard Forest, twenty miles from my home, a place I had been warned never to go. My parents explained once how the forest was one hundred and fifty miles wide, and bad things happened there. Jill would scare me with stories of murders that would occur in the woods and how sometimes, young girls would enter but never leave.

I had not once since moving to Lakebrooke gone anywhere near Dalgaard Forest, I wasn’t allowed half a mile away from the house, but I couldn’t stop my feet that night. Something there called to me, and I followed the feeling.

Perhaps I should have gone to the hospital, but the voice in my head told me to keep running. I was terrified, and the pain became so much, I thought that I would die. It was everywhere, all over and inside of me. Nothing I did made the pain go away, and the howls that ripped from my throat scared the hell out of me.

I remember falling to my knees and praying for it all to end. I didn’t have a clue what was about to happen. All I wanted was to go home, where I was safe from harm. But that couldn’t be because my legs snapped, I screamed, my back cracked, and I screamed again.

The voice, one I’d heard before, back when I was thirteen and thought I was crazy, told me not to be scared, that all would be well as long as I didn’t fight the change. The moment I felt my face changing, I lost all control over myself. I blacked out as something else took over my body.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t me anymore. Everything was strange, and I sobbed inside when I looked at my reflection in the lake. I was a wolf. I didn’t know if I was insane or dreaming, but it didn’t feel real.

The voice I’d heard before told me that her name was Chai and she was my wolf. I was a shifter, and though she knew it would be hard for me to believe, it was the truth. I closed my subconscious and let Chai take control. I did because I was too afraid to do anything else.

The next thing I remember, I was naked and walking, or rather, stumbling toward my house. Thankfully, my parents were still sleeping, so I was able to slip inside easily. I took a long hot shower in a world of my own, then woke up the following day, not knowing how I made it to bed. I ached everywhere but was shocked and surprised to realise I had super hearing, strength, and speed.

I also felt like a freak because I was a woman who changed into a wolf! That made me a werewolf, and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell anyone because I had no one to tell.

Who the hell, in real life, would believe such things as a werewolf existed?

That’s right, no one, and I would have ended up in a mental hospital. People already thought I was crazy; I didn’t want to give them a reason to say it was true.

I went to the library and pulled out books of myth and legends of Lycan’s. I wanted to read them and see if what I’d been through could be true. What I read about werewolves told me that it’s possible for me to be such.

However, I found it hard to believe when I don’t recall being bitten by a werewolf. It’s also hard to believe that I was born this way; unless my birth parents were also werewolves and had passed the gene on to me. That only made me wonder why they would give me up.

Why would they leave me in a world of confusion, alone and with no one to talk to?

All the reading and thinking made my head hurt. I had no clue what I could do or where I’d go next. I needed answers, and I didn’t know which way to turn, which meant I was more confused than before I read the books.

I gave up reading books that sent me into fits of panic. I also stopped checking out werewolves online because that was worse than reading the books.

Around my shifts in Jill’s restaurant, I took to spending my evenings running to the forest and learning about the wolf inside of me. Chai became my best friend, and she taught me a lot in a short amount of time. However, I know that I’m naïve, and I still have much to learn.

Chai told me that there are other’s like me out there, but not to go looking. If I did that, I could be attacked by rogues, who were usually evil.

Everything Chai has been trying to teach me hasn’t cleared much up. She doesn’t know much about other shifters because she didn’t awaken until I did, so she’s also learning as she goes.

What she does know seems to be coming to her in pieces like a puzzle. It’s hard for her to piece them together, and Chai was worried she could give me incorrect information.

Chai told me that this shouldn’t have happened, and she should automatically know who she is and how to help me. That’s why Chai believes that someone either bound us or put some kind of spell on us to keep us from knowing our true selves.

I ignored the fact Chai pretty much told me there is magic out there. It’s not because I didn’t believe it; I can transform into a wolf; why wouldn’t there be magic also? But it was too much for me to deal with right then.

Back to why I’m being thrown out of my house.