A Werewolf's Lullaby
Chapter 2
When I returned to the house, mother was making apple pie. This was becoming a habit of making amends by making me food. Apple pie was my favorite.
Father must have gone to sell meat, eggs, and other various items at the market in town. Probably didn’t want to stick around to hear two women arguing as well as too sickened to keep thinking of his only daughter about to be married.
Mother took one look at my hand while nudging me into a chair and went to fetch a clean washcloth and hot water along with some of her ointments made from herbs in her small garden. I sat in an awkward silence as she tended to me until I hissed in pain when the hot washcloth met my skin. She ignored me knowing it was my own fault. I’ve always had a temper. Some would say it’s because of my red hair. For some reason people tend to think that’s the explanation of redheads having a terrible rage. I say it’s because people irritate the hell out of us in a way no one else understands.
I looked at the bowl of clean water as it became clouded with a reddish orange color. I hadn’t realized I’d bled so much.
After she applied a generous amount of mint salve to my skin she bandaged it and spoke easily, “Would you like some apple pie?”
I nodded not wanting to talk just yet.
She placed a large slice on a plate and put it on the table in front of me along with a fork. I
nibbled on it as she made herself a plate and sat down across from me. We both ate quietly and after chewing a few bites mother said, “I know you do not want this, but sometimes in life we have to do things we do not want to do.”
Still looking at my pie so she wouldn’t see the lie in my eyes I told her, “I have accepted it. Now can we stop talking about it already?”
I snuck a look at her and she took another bite of pie leaving the conversation at that. That was easier than I thought it would be. I hadn’t wanted to keep talking about it because I think she would have realized my plan the more I would have had to talk. Hopefully she hasn’t. I don’t know what she’d do if she found out the truth of what I had decided to do.
I ate the rest of my dessert trying not to appear in a hurry then took my dishes to the sink and washed and dried them placing them back in the cupboard. I mumbled a quick “I’ll be in my bedroom” to her and ran up the stairs. Once I shut the door behind me I leaned on the old wood my eyes taking in my small room. Then I quickly grabbed my back from off the hook on the wall by the door and put it on the bed thinking of what I should put in it. I grabbed a few of the necessary items, undergarments and socks. I looked in my closet at my clothes. My comfortable pants or my dresses? I only had so much room in my bag.
It dawned on me then that I would have to put a lot more thought into the running away than I had originally presumed. Pants meant more people looking at a young lady with disgust at her dress attire as opposed to the publicly approved dresses women are supposed to wear. I always wore pants around the house, out in the woods, or working on the farm. Dresses meant being safe from prying eyes while out in public, but not comfortable at all. I sighed at this. I decided on bringing a couple of my plain dresses as well as a few pairs of pants and shirts. I would change into a dress when I came across a town on the journey, once I was out of sight I would change back into pants and shirts. They were much easier to move around in, as well as faster. I would need to if I wanted to make it out of range of my parents’ search of me or the one man and his helpers. Plus I’d be in them a majority of the time as opposed to being in towns. I would not stay long in them; just enough time to acquire some food and maybe a lodge inn if I had enough money. I’d have to take my whole savings with me. The thought of taking some of mother and father’s crossed my mind. If I did take some I would take very little. They would need to get by while I was gone and I couldn’t be taking all the money for myself. I would do little odd end jobs with people I met along the way if I had to. Then it occurred to me I could take Freyr, but then I would be more noticeable. People would recognize a girl on a horse more so than just a girl on foot. Freyr was our only horse, my parents would need him for harvesting and going into town to sell our produce in the market.
I don’t know if I could ever come back home. Grief pulled at the edges of my heart, but I had to do it. Either way I would not be happy. I would rather be the one choosing my fate than someone else. I suppose I could come back a year or two later. Would they all be looking for me still? I would have to chance it. I couldn’t bear it if I couldn’t see my father or mother for a longer period than that. I would have to say goodbye to Freyr, my best friend. Being without him would be torture. My eyes teared up at this. I dried them and told myself there would be time for that later. The question was, should I leave tonight or tomorrow. Tomorrow night I figured would be best. It would give me more time to prepare to stock up on food while they were asleep tonight and also emotionally. I needed more time to be ready for my farewell.
Father must have gone to sell meat, eggs, and other various items at the market in town. Probably didn’t want to stick around to hear two women arguing as well as too sickened to keep thinking of his only daughter about to be married.
Mother took one look at my hand while nudging me into a chair and went to fetch a clean washcloth and hot water along with some of her ointments made from herbs in her small garden. I sat in an awkward silence as she tended to me until I hissed in pain when the hot washcloth met my skin. She ignored me knowing it was my own fault. I’ve always had a temper. Some would say it’s because of my red hair. For some reason people tend to think that’s the explanation of redheads having a terrible rage. I say it’s because people irritate the hell out of us in a way no one else understands.
I looked at the bowl of clean water as it became clouded with a reddish orange color. I hadn’t realized I’d bled so much.
After she applied a generous amount of mint salve to my skin she bandaged it and spoke easily, “Would you like some apple pie?”
I nodded not wanting to talk just yet.
She placed a large slice on a plate and put it on the table in front of me along with a fork. I
nibbled on it as she made herself a plate and sat down across from me. We both ate quietly and after chewing a few bites mother said, “I know you do not want this, but sometimes in life we have to do things we do not want to do.”
Still looking at my pie so she wouldn’t see the lie in my eyes I told her, “I have accepted it. Now can we stop talking about it already?”
I snuck a look at her and she took another bite of pie leaving the conversation at that. That was easier than I thought it would be. I hadn’t wanted to keep talking about it because I think she would have realized my plan the more I would have had to talk. Hopefully she hasn’t. I don’t know what she’d do if she found out the truth of what I had decided to do.
I ate the rest of my dessert trying not to appear in a hurry then took my dishes to the sink and washed and dried them placing them back in the cupboard. I mumbled a quick “I’ll be in my bedroom” to her and ran up the stairs. Once I shut the door behind me I leaned on the old wood my eyes taking in my small room. Then I quickly grabbed my back from off the hook on the wall by the door and put it on the bed thinking of what I should put in it. I grabbed a few of the necessary items, undergarments and socks. I looked in my closet at my clothes. My comfortable pants or my dresses? I only had so much room in my bag.
It dawned on me then that I would have to put a lot more thought into the running away than I had originally presumed. Pants meant more people looking at a young lady with disgust at her dress attire as opposed to the publicly approved dresses women are supposed to wear. I always wore pants around the house, out in the woods, or working on the farm. Dresses meant being safe from prying eyes while out in public, but not comfortable at all. I sighed at this. I decided on bringing a couple of my plain dresses as well as a few pairs of pants and shirts. I would change into a dress when I came across a town on the journey, once I was out of sight I would change back into pants and shirts. They were much easier to move around in, as well as faster. I would need to if I wanted to make it out of range of my parents’ search of me or the one man and his helpers. Plus I’d be in them a majority of the time as opposed to being in towns. I would not stay long in them; just enough time to acquire some food and maybe a lodge inn if I had enough money. I’d have to take my whole savings with me. The thought of taking some of mother and father’s crossed my mind. If I did take some I would take very little. They would need to get by while I was gone and I couldn’t be taking all the money for myself. I would do little odd end jobs with people I met along the way if I had to. Then it occurred to me I could take Freyr, but then I would be more noticeable. People would recognize a girl on a horse more so than just a girl on foot. Freyr was our only horse, my parents would need him for harvesting and going into town to sell our produce in the market.
I don’t know if I could ever come back home. Grief pulled at the edges of my heart, but I had to do it. Either way I would not be happy. I would rather be the one choosing my fate than someone else. I suppose I could come back a year or two later. Would they all be looking for me still? I would have to chance it. I couldn’t bear it if I couldn’t see my father or mother for a longer period than that. I would have to say goodbye to Freyr, my best friend. Being without him would be torture. My eyes teared up at this. I dried them and told myself there would be time for that later. The question was, should I leave tonight or tomorrow. Tomorrow night I figured would be best. It would give me more time to prepare to stock up on food while they were asleep tonight and also emotionally. I needed more time to be ready for my farewell.