I felt anxious during the whole ride back to the compound. I hadn't mustered the courage all this time to go back and see how it actually looks like. The closer the bus gets to my destination the more I feel like I can smell the smoke, the burning wood. It's as if it can enter my lungs and in the back of my head I can hear screams, screams of the people I knew, the ones I loved.
Probably my tears seemed ridiculous to the people around me. A random girl crying in the bus. It almost reminded them of a movie cliche but I just couldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried to think of something else the anxiousness wouldn't stop. I was lucky that no one was sitting next to me so I could sniffle in peace and even spread my things to the seat on the left.
My eyes landed on my back. It was worn out, and I didn't have it for more than three months. I had to buy all of my things again, as if I was beginning some kind of new life. I even thought of changing my name but it saddened me to know that no one would call me by the name my parents gave me again.
Closing my eyes I allowed my head to rest on the seat. I decided to not look outside just so I wouldn't trigger myself. I was less than an hour away from home and as the scenery was getting more and more familiar I was feeling more and more depressed. That's why I wanted to think of something else.
In two weeks it was my birthday. I would turn eighteen and finally I would start having the urges of meeting my mate. Werewolves had soulmates, partners that they belonged to be together for eternity. Through every reincarnation of their wolf spirit werewolves that were meant to be together always found each other. It was destiny, ancient magic created by their holy spirits. It was a whole process and it was a celebration that lasted for days. It was also a custom that if one of the mates already knew who the other was they had to keep it a secret until the other remembered.
Usually the first few weeks after the eighteenth birthday of the werewolf an urge of longing would overtake them. As if there was something missing from their life and everything they knew changed. After that slowly flashes of the past appear in dreams, showing them bit by bit who was their destined lover. Once all of the past memories are restored there is a clear image who their other half is and a ritual takes place for the union.
My mother used to tell me stories about how she met my father, how she felt in his presence and how the world did not matter if he wasn't there. It was scary but at the same time it gave me a little hope. Maybe I won't have to be alone for the rest of my life, maybe there would be someone out there for me, to support me, to help me.
If that someone was in my pack, that clearly meant that his soul had been crushed. Werewolves don't live forever like other creatures. They do get to live a few centuries but eventually they die and then reincarnate. That doesn't happen though if the werewolf is poisoned by wolfsbane. If they die from the poisoning before being provided with an antidote then their wolf spirit gets crushed and they will not return again. My whole pack had been poisoned, every single one of them had disappeared forever.
Except me. I am the only one.
I had gotten poisoned too but someone saved me, while I was in the delirium of the poisoning someone actually gave me the antidote and saved my life. After I was done with my revenge I would search for that person. I owe them my life.
It is silly though how every single one of my thoughts lead back home. My mate, my scar, my life, everything was back there, burned and turned to ashes. I wanted to let go, I wanted to move on but how do I fill this hole that just keeps bleeding in my chest? I never wished to be a tragic character, I don't want it. My mother, my father, my little brother. I want them close to me, still with me.
"Final stop!" The driver shouted and the bus came to a sudden stop bringing me brutally back to my senses. I stood up and left the bus in a hurry not wanting to be there anymore. I knew there was a while to reach the compound through the woods and I didn't want to be alone during the night there.
"Of course you calculated the time wrong. Now soon it will get dark." I scolded myself as my boots dived into the fresh mud of the forest. I was a whiner, that was the unfortunate truth and I could whine all day about the mistake I made but the moment I smelled the scent of the dump leaves, when I heard the crack of branches underneath my feet I fell silent. I was walking back home, just like the days I would come back from school or when I went shopping with my friends.
These paths, I knew them by heart and even with my eyes closed I would find my way home.
The image of the compound popped in my mind. Wooden houses, people in their porches, kids running around. My little brother ran towards me. It was all so clear, so clearly painful that I almost stopped and turned back. My knees were shaking more and more with every step I took.
"I can't…" I whispered, feeling my depression overtake me. "I can't go there…" I whispered when a loud sound was heard. It was similar to the sound of someone falling from a tree.
My body froze, eyes widened as I felt myself root to the ground. "Who…who's there?" I asked but no one answered. I was sure I heard it. "Who's there!" I screamed, hoping that my time hadn't come too, could the killer be back, ready to finish what he started? I wondered when someone grabbed my hair.
All I could do was scream.