Epsilon [Werewolf]

Chapter 1 (✔)

I never asked for much in life. I was always taught to keep quiet and stay in the background, because who wants to deal with repercussions, right?

I guess my parents' teachings worked. To a certain degree, that is. For the most part, I kept my mouth shut and was rewarded with a life free of trouble. Even when I wanted to speak out, when I wanted to call someone every curse word under the sun, I resisted, because why burden myself with the consequences?

Well, it's how I thought most of the time. Other times, I didn't want to remain in the shadows. I wanted to go out and live. I wanted to escape the burden of my 'virtuous' title and stir mischief. I wanted to prove to myself that a little trouble is okay — if done in moderation.

But my mother would never allow that.

"Absolutely not, Kyra." Her voice was like a whip, cracking and cleaving the air, a sound far too loud for the cramped space of my room. "Sit down and study. Partying will only rot that clever brain of yours."

I blew out a frustrated breath. A stubborn woman, my mother could not be swayed. In this house, her word was the law, and not even my angel of a father, bless him, could say a word against her. "It's just the way it is, Kyra,"  he'd tell me, clear resignation in his voice. "Your mother always has the final say. It'd do you good to remember that."

And I tried. I really did try to acclimatise to my mother's stern ways, but there was always something she did that was a step too far. I was smart; I choose my battles wisely, and many times I didn't put up a fight at all, if only because I knew the outcome.

But this party was something I had to do. A lot was weighing on this, and I couldn't afford to miss it.

"But why, ma? I'm about to graduate and I've never gone to one, not once!" My words rang true. In all my eighteen years of existence, I'd never attended a social gathering that wasn't family-oriented. I wasn't allowed to, and I suppose it tied back to my mother's analogy — remain in the background and keep out of trouble. In my mother's head, high school parties were breeding grounds for trouble. But didn't she know I wasn't like that?

It seemed she didn't. Her expression was stone, the hard-set lines of her face rough-hewn and cold. It was a risk, but I persisted, "Could you please consider it? Just this once? I won't drink or smoke or anything like that!"

My mother's slanted eyes narrowed. "No." She said it with a kind of finality that could stop tsunamis. "Stop revering this American-ized nonsense. I didn't bring you here to party, I bought you here to give you an edge in your academics."

I ground my teeth, and though I was tempted to blurt one of the many turbulent thoughts in my head, I knew I had to choose my next words carefully. My mother found academics a touchy subject.

"I've lived here my whole life, ma. I know life was tough where you were born, but that isn't the case here. I've grown up alongside these people, and this is what they do. Isn't it fair to say that I might want to experience it along with them?"

I thought over my mollified words. Anyone else may have paused to consider them, but not my mother. Lightning flashed through her eyes in an instant, the slate-greys roiling like storm clouds. Though I shared my mother's eyes, mine never burned like hers. I didn't have her combative spirit or will of fire. Where hers stormed, mine was quiet, like the static clouds of an overcast sky. 

"Enough, Kyra!" She snapped. I recoiled into my bed. "You're incredibly ungrateful! My eighteen-year-old self would have given everything to be in your position. You're just—" she stopped herself short and sighed. Then, slowly, she raised herself to her full height. "You can't do one thing to make me happy, girl. You're always trying to push my boundaries, disappointing me, and sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like to have a daughter who didn't."