Adopted

Serena's POV

Just as the beast prepared to attack Jess, the bar door crashed open, and a familiar voice came through, cutting through the chaos. “Hey! You better step back from those kids!” It was Dad's voice.

I immediately looked towards the entrance and definitely he was there and behind him was mom, her face was pale with fear. I wanted to run to them, to beg for help because something horrifying was happening to me. But suddenly, the beast inside me roared with a fierce possessiveness, its gaze fixating on my father as a weird hunger erupted within me again.

I wanted to scream, to tell them I was still in here, that I didn't want to hurt anyone, especially not them. But the beast was in control, and with a snarl, it launched at my father. I screamed in my head, “Don't hurt him! Please, don't hurt my dad!”

Miraculously, my parents were quick on their feet. They ran out of the bar, and I was reluctantly after them. They led it toward the woods near our house, dodging through trees with a familiarity that left me stunned. How did they know where to go? Why did they seem prepared for this?

Dad came to a stop in a small clearing, turning to face me as though no longer scared. “Serena, darling, I know it's you in there,” he said, his voice softer now. “You're confused and scared, but please try to control your wolf, and you'll be alright, okay?”

Mom also spoke up, “Sweetheart, we can help you through this. You just need to focus and try to calm down.” Their words should've been a comfort, but I couldn't help but wonder how exactly they knew it was me? Somehow I felt they knew about this, and they knew it would happen. But they didn't tell me!

I suddenly felt extremely angered as the thought settled in, this has to be why they were constantly attempting to keep me from the outside world. I couldn't control myself anymore, and it felt like my insides were burning in rage. I looked away from them, attempting to conceal my rage, How could they not tell me? How could they hide something so huge?

Suddenly, I began feeling the hunger once more. The surrounding forest became blurry, and the last thing I heard was a scream, a scream that broke me down completely. Dad's scream.

And then the world went black.

A whole year had passed, another year, another birthday, but there was no joy in it. I lay on my bed, feeling numb as silent tears trailed down my cheeks. It was today, a year ago, that I had killed my father because of a stupid curse. The police were still clueless, about what had happened and were chasing shadows while the truth was too wild to believe.

There was a sudden knock at the door, but I didn't move an inch. The door creaked open, and Mom's head appeared, her eyes were filled with the same sorrow that I had in mine.

“Serena, can I come in?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. I felt too tired and lazy to answer. I just stared at the ceiling, constantly remembering how I felt on that day, waking up on the bloody grass, naked and covered in my father's blood while his remains were inside of me.

Mom took my silence as consent, and entered the room. She sat at the edge of my bed and her hand reached out to stroke my hair. “Happy Birthday Serena.”

I didn't respond to her at all, and after a while she continued. “I know it's hard on you,” she murmured. “I wish I could take away all your pain, but I can't. You need to move on from this, Serena.”

Her words stung, even though I knew she meant well. How could I move on when, every night, I'd go to sleep knowing I ate my father?

“It's been a full year,” she continued, "You got accepted into all the colleges you applied to, but you never went. You've disconnected from everyone, you never leave the house..."

She paused, looking into my eyes, or at least trying to. I had no interest in living anymore, so why would I try to study or pursue my dreams? I could feel how thin and frail I'd become, but this is good. I'll continue not existing until I actually don't exist anymore.

“I'm worried about you,” she finally said. I turned my head to meet her gaze, and asked her for the thousandth time. “Mom, please... tell me how I got this curse. I know you know something. I need to know how I got it and how to end it.”

Her eyes shifted away, unable to hold my gaze. She sat there in silence, a wordless statue, and something inside me snapped. Tears of anger began to flow, hot and uncontrollable. I pushed myself off the bed and stormed past her, heading for the attic, where my dad's old things were kept. The one place I felt like I could breathe, even if it was just a little.

The attic was dusty and abandoned, just like me. I looked at my father's things which I had felt too guilty to touch, I swallowed past the lump forming in my throat and started tearing through the boxes. There were old photos, letters, books and I had all the time in the world to go through them.

I suddenly saw an old picture of my dad, mom, and a five-year-old me messing with my dad's hair. There was also a picture of my dad with a bad hairdo, and I remembered being the one that made his hair. At the time he loved the hair, no matter how embarrassing it was. Tears streamed down my face as I admired the pictures. Then Lorna, my wolf, the one I'd named after the meanest character I could think of from an old book, spoke up.

“Check the old wooden box in the corner,” Lorna's voice echoed in my mind, insistent and oddly calm. “Shut up, Lorna, you she-devil,” I hissed back.

I would rather not listen to her and had warned her never to speak to me.  “Call me what you want, but check the box if you want to understand anything, it has a carving that belongs to a long lineage of werewolves,” Lorna explained, unbothered by my name-calling.

I sat there, still and silent, before my desperate need for answers overpowered my reluctance. I moved toward the corner and eyed the old, dusty box. The rusty lock seemed almost ancient, but I ripped it off with my bare hands.

Lifting the lid, I found a pile of documents, all related to my dad. I pulled them out one by one, my heart sinking as nothing seemed to stand out, just work papers, no answers. Lorna had to be messing with me, I thought.

Just as I was about to give up, something caught my eye. The bottom of the box had an uneven edge. Curious, I poked at it, and to my surprise, it popped open. It had a secret compartment.

Inside was a photograph of baby me, wearing an amulet too big for my neck, and next to the picture was a small box.  I opened the box and there it was, the same amulet from the photo. I picked up the picture, and as I did, I noticed there was another document there.

It was folded and old, but it was still intact. I opened it carefully, feeling curious, and what I saw made my heart feel like it had stopped beating.

They were adoption papers, my adoption papers. I was adopted. How? Why? How is this even possible?  “Mom,” I stammered, even though I was alone. “What is this? Why didn't you tell me?”

I suddenly found myself on the verge of having a panic attack. Does that explain why mom didn't tell me about this curse? She truly has no idea?

With the amulet in one hand and the adoption papers in the other, I stormed out of the attic, my voice echoing through the quiet house. “Mom! Mom!”

Her reply came from downstairs. “I'm in the kitchen, Serena!”

I hurried down to her. She was standing by the stove, stirring something, but when she saw me, she broke into a smile. “Oh, Serena, I haven't heard you yell like that in a year. I've missed it.”

But I wasn't there to reminisce. I thrust the documents and the photo in front of her. “What is this mom? Am I really adopted?”

Her smile disappeared as though it was never there, her face turned as white as the apron she wore. “Serena, where did you find these?”

“Answer me, Mom!” I yelled, my emotions scattered. “Am I adopted or not?”

She took a step back, her whole body shaking. Without a word, she turned and walked away from me. I yelled after her retreating figure," This is what you always do, never tell me anything and live in secrecy. If you're going to keep being secretive, then fine! But I will find out the truth, with or without you.”

I couldn't sleep all night, and I left my room before the sun even made an appearance. I tiptoed to my father's study and began to search for anything that might give me more clues about who my real parents are and why on earth my adoptive parents would hide so many things from me. What I found nearly stopped my heart, engagement papers.

It seemed like an engagement between two packs. I grabbed it along with some other papers that mentioned packs and documented wars. My curiosity was on fire, but I knew Mom wasn't going to help me anyway. I returned to my room and locked the door behind me. I looked through every single detail and I discovered that my father had connections to the northeast region, home to the Crescent Grove Pack.

That was it. I needed to find that pack. They had to know something about my parents, about me. Or maybe, they were even like me.

I went back to the adoption papers to find the agency my parents had adopted me from. They should have details about my birth parents, their names would be most beneficial. I was adopted from a rescue site that had been shut down fifteen years ago. “Great,” I muttered in frustration, “Dead end.”

A few minutes later.

I opened my closet and brought off a small bag, then began putting some clothes in it. I couldn't stay here any longer, no way. Since mom has decided to keep hiding things from me, then I'll just have to discover them myself. I had to find answers, and if that meant heading to the North region to find the Crescent Grove Pack, then so be it.

I arranged for an Uber on my phone. The documents and the picture of me as a baby with the amulet went into my bag, along with the other essentials. Before zipping it shut, I snapped a photo of my adoptive parents with my phone, as it would help with my investigation.

I took one last look around my room and suddenly began feeling a bit afraid. It's literally my first time going on a road trip. Was this a mistake? But then the image of my father, the sound of that terrible scream, flashed across my mind, and I couldn't back off. I had to do this, for me.

I slipped out the window, just as I had done a year ago, but this time my escape wasn't for a party and there was a possibility that I won't be returning. The Uber was waiting, its headlights cutting through the predawn darkness. I got in without looking back. Not because I was brave, but because I knew if I looked back even once, then I'd run back into my room and hug my pillow.