Element XXI

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I knew I had to stop eventually. 

I was so tired and with each step I took, I felt as if I was going to pass out. To be honest, spending my whole night running through the forest wasn't the best idea.

However, it allowed me the time to think. My cousin was a werewolf...I still couldn't process it. I have been trying all week to hide the secret of what I am from my family and it turns out they're just like me. 

Were they ever going to tell me? Were they eventually going to let me in on the secret? Like, "hey, welcome to the family! By the way, we poses the ability to transform into mythical creatures just in case you didn't know..."   

Looking up, watching the sun filter through the branches, I realized I shouldn't be upset. I did the same thing to them technically. I have the same secret and only two people know about it. 

Approaching the edge of the forest. I sat down and looked what lay before me. The home I grew up in.

I have been living in a fool's paradise for days now. I tried to embrace this new change with open arms and I was so ready to forget anything that happened the 16 years prior. However, at the end of the day, this house and these memories are all that I know. I tried to run from it and instead I found myself running back to it. 

Standing back up, I trotted across the lawn to the back wall of the house and shifted. The window above the sink had been broken for years and all that held it shut was a wooden spoon we jammed above the sill to keep the window from sliding up. 

Wedging my fingers underneath, I pushed up and my strength easily snapped the spoon and allowed me to open the window fully. Taking a step back, I planted my hands on the ledge and pushed my way inside. Landing rather ungracefully on the linoleum floor. I stood up rubbing the bruises I knew I was going to have in the morning and walked down the hallway towards my room. 

Grabbing the flannel I left hanging on the back of the door, I wrapped it around myself and sat on my bed. 

Around me sat everything I used to identify myself with. All my charcoal drawings on their easels, the splattered paint on the walls. Drawn on the wall where my bed sat was the family mural I drew days before my brother left. It was the best day spent with my family before my mother died. Michael and I were sporting cheesy grins with many of our teeth missing. Our mother was behind us with her eyes shut while my father was leaned in giving her a kiss on the temple.

To me, we were perfect. 

Smiling to myself, I crawled under my covers and faced the wall to stare at the photo. Sometimes I wonder what it would be to go back and have my mother with me. Closing my eyes, I fell asleep to the idea of what life could have been like with her here. 

I dreamed exactly that. My life was on fast-forward with her brushing my hair as a girl, dropping my off on my first day of school each year. Her wiping my tears as I cried about my first heartbreak, her taking too many photos the night of my prom. In my dream, we were happy.

Hours later, I slowly opened my eyes to a noise outside of my bedroom. Not moving, I listened to the shuffling that came from the living room and for a small moment I began to panic. Someone was in the house. Using my senses, I could smell a dog and new instantly what I was dealing with. 

Standing up slowly, I opened my door as quietly as I could and tiptoed down the hallway. All the lights were off but I could make out a man with no shirt on bent over by the fireplace. Crossing over to the other wall where the light switch was located, I thought I could just flip the lights on and take him by surprise.

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