Status: Currently in progress
The Bones of You
You Don’t Call, You Don’t Write
- Derek -
Lena waved to the boys as they left, spittle almost dripping down their chins. She found this amusing. I could tell by the lopsided grin on her face. As soon as they were out of sight, and out of hearing distance, I shut the door behind them. Lena slowly walked around, trying to avoid the debris on the floors.
“You don’t call, you don’t write,” she said when she turned to face me.
“I didn't want to bother you,” I responded. “And I did call.”
“You've called once in five years two days ago. Just so happened I had an interview for a teaching position here. Perfect timing I suppose,” she said, her blond hair swishing around her. It still smelled like oranges.
“You could've told me,” I almost growled. I still couldn't show restraint around her.
“And what would you have said Derek? Would you be excited to see me or would you be reacting like you are now? All wolfy and grouchy. And how many times have you tried to contact me?” she said, her voice raising with every word.
“Lena I-”
“I’m still gonna help and maybe slowly we can get to normal. But four years is a long time Derek. Could you please just take me to my hotel? I’m tired. We can resume arguing tomorrow,” she said and ran her hand through her hair.
I drove her car, dropping her at the nicest hotel Beacon Hills had to offer, and started the walk towards the woods. There I could run free, be the wolf, and be back to the house in no time. But something stopped my from changing. The memories came flooding back whether I wanted them to or not. It was like hearing a song you haven’t heard in years and all the memories associated with it rush in.
5 years ago
I stood in her bedroom and felt the situation out. Everything seemed typical for a college junior. Albeit she was only 18 but she was already pulling double duty of high school and college. On her pillow, blond strands of hair were spread sporadically. Books littered the desk, clothes were strewn on the floor. A hamper was in the corner and I snitched a tee shirt from the top. According to her brother, this was the most recent article of clothing she had worn.
I hightailed it out of the room when I heard her parents returning. I don’t think they would be understanding when they found a strange 19 year old kid in their missing daughters bedroom sniffing her shirt. Logan met me later, as the search party gathered to find her. We worked as a pair, him struggling to keep up with me as I tracked her scent through the dense forest. It reminded me of home as I ran through the underbrush but I was really in the northern most part of Maine.
I followed her scent for an hour until I found an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. She was there. So was someone else.
“Go find the sheriff. He’s about ten minutes from here. I’ll wait and make sure they don’t leave,” I whispered to Logan.
He ran off without a sound which was impressive for a human. I waited and felt impatience gnaw at me. When I heard her bloodcurdling scream, I could wait anymore. I bolted to the house.
With the two men holding her subdued, I carried her out of the house to the awaiting sheriff. She didn't want to let me go so I carried her through the woods to the EMTs. The next day I got a call from Logan that she wanted to see me. I was hesitant. Being in a hospital so soon after the fire made me weary but Logan insisted she wouldn't shut up until I saw her. She was back to her old self according to him.
When I pulled up in a parking space reporters were flocking the entrance. I sneaked in the side door and made my way slowly towards her floor, averting eye contact with everyone. Outside a room stood a guard and Logan. The guard waved us in and there I found the young girl I carried out of the house just the night before.
“Derek, nice to meet you officially. I’m Lena,” she said and gave me the warmest smile I had seen in a year. And I actually smiled back.
Lena waved to the boys as they left, spittle almost dripping down their chins. She found this amusing. I could tell by the lopsided grin on her face. As soon as they were out of sight, and out of hearing distance, I shut the door behind them. Lena slowly walked around, trying to avoid the debris on the floors.
“You don’t call, you don’t write,” she said when she turned to face me.
“I didn't want to bother you,” I responded. “And I did call.”
“You've called once in five years two days ago. Just so happened I had an interview for a teaching position here. Perfect timing I suppose,” she said, her blond hair swishing around her. It still smelled like oranges.
“You could've told me,” I almost growled. I still couldn't show restraint around her.
“And what would you have said Derek? Would you be excited to see me or would you be reacting like you are now? All wolfy and grouchy. And how many times have you tried to contact me?” she said, her voice raising with every word.
“Lena I-”
“I’m still gonna help and maybe slowly we can get to normal. But four years is a long time Derek. Could you please just take me to my hotel? I’m tired. We can resume arguing tomorrow,” she said and ran her hand through her hair.
I drove her car, dropping her at the nicest hotel Beacon Hills had to offer, and started the walk towards the woods. There I could run free, be the wolf, and be back to the house in no time. But something stopped my from changing. The memories came flooding back whether I wanted them to or not. It was like hearing a song you haven’t heard in years and all the memories associated with it rush in.
5 years ago
I stood in her bedroom and felt the situation out. Everything seemed typical for a college junior. Albeit she was only 18 but she was already pulling double duty of high school and college. On her pillow, blond strands of hair were spread sporadically. Books littered the desk, clothes were strewn on the floor. A hamper was in the corner and I snitched a tee shirt from the top. According to her brother, this was the most recent article of clothing she had worn.
I hightailed it out of the room when I heard her parents returning. I don’t think they would be understanding when they found a strange 19 year old kid in their missing daughters bedroom sniffing her shirt. Logan met me later, as the search party gathered to find her. We worked as a pair, him struggling to keep up with me as I tracked her scent through the dense forest. It reminded me of home as I ran through the underbrush but I was really in the northern most part of Maine.
I followed her scent for an hour until I found an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. She was there. So was someone else.
“Go find the sheriff. He’s about ten minutes from here. I’ll wait and make sure they don’t leave,” I whispered to Logan.
He ran off without a sound which was impressive for a human. I waited and felt impatience gnaw at me. When I heard her bloodcurdling scream, I could wait anymore. I bolted to the house.
With the two men holding her subdued, I carried her out of the house to the awaiting sheriff. She didn't want to let me go so I carried her through the woods to the EMTs. The next day I got a call from Logan that she wanted to see me. I was hesitant. Being in a hospital so soon after the fire made me weary but Logan insisted she wouldn't shut up until I saw her. She was back to her old self according to him.
When I pulled up in a parking space reporters were flocking the entrance. I sneaked in the side door and made my way slowly towards her floor, averting eye contact with everyone. Outside a room stood a guard and Logan. The guard waved us in and there I found the young girl I carried out of the house just the night before.
“Derek, nice to meet you officially. I’m Lena,” she said and gave me the warmest smile I had seen in a year. And I actually smiled back.