The Last Wolf

Two days passed quickly as I sat alone in my room, only venturing out for meals. Guilt racked my brain. I probably shouldn’t have yelled at the woman who took me in. She was nice, took care of me all these years, and all she wanted was for me to be her little girl. My door squeaked open while I peered out of the window. The moon was dim against the clear, bright, blue sky; the sun illuminated the brilliant green grass. It looked so happy outside the window, but inside was killing me. I felt cramped even though my room was far from small. My stomach churned with the grilled chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes my mother cooked for dinner the previous night. I rubbed my sore back before turning to the flowery scent that entered my room.

“We should talk about yesterday.” Her voice was soft and her eyes were glassy.

“What about it,” I asked, lowering my eyes to my hands. I picked at a nonexistent speck of dust beneath my fingernail.

“You broke a dish against the wall, Dahlia!” Tears brimmed on the tips of her lids.

Silently, I wished there was something I could do to control the rising anger in my chest. I bit my lip before I looked at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Dahlia,” she sighed as she took a quick step toward me. My body instinctively drew away from her, closer to the window.

“Please,” I lowered my eyes again. “Everything is already tingling, just don’t move like that.”

“Listen to me,” she replied in a soft ‘motherly’ tone. Her steps were soft and careful as she moved forward. She hesitantly grabbed my jaw between her thumb and forefinger. “You are just a little girl. Your father and I still love you! We won’t hurt you!”

“My father can’t even look at me,” I hissed, looking at anything except her eyes. A tear spilled over her lid and crashed on her cheek. The salty smell filled my nostrils.

“He doesn’t know how to treat you!” Luke Waters didn't act like my father any longer. Since he shared that conversation with White River the day he brought me back, the man that raised me hadn't given me a second glance. I remember being engulfed in his embrace before White River confirmed that I was my biological mother's daughter.

“I heard him, Mom!” I couldn’t mask the glare. “I am nothing more than a demon now.” He said that more than once in whispered conversations I wasn't meant to hear. How could I not hear them with my senses heightening?

“No,” she cried, gripping my jaw harder. “You are my daughter!” She pulled me in before wrapping her arms around me. “You are our little girl!” She shook as she sobbed against my shoulder while her arms squeezed me. I tried to pat her back, but it didn’t feel right. She mumbled more into my shoulder.

“Mom,” I whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried before she released me and ran from the room.
I crawled into my bed and curled into a ball. My stomach continued churning. I tried to tune out my father’s harsh tone. His voice seemed to echo through my head as he scolded my mother. “You shouldn’t try being nice to it, Samantha! We can’t control the creature, and that thing is not ours. Not during this time.”

A tear slipped from my burning eyes. His voice rose louder and louder. “She’s her mother’s daughter, Samantha! She’s not yours, anymore!”