Where She Belongs

Back Home.

"You have twenty-three new messages." The automated man is gloating, I can hear it in his voice as payback for all the times I made him deal with my family.

"Twenty-three messages. Samara, have you not listened to any of these?" Mum asked in shock.

"I figured if it was important you'd call back."

She growls and I brace myself for whatever is next. "Well, it's important enough for me to come all this way to bring you home."

"If I miss one thanksgiving is it really going to be the end of the world?" I groan, grabbing a pillow to put over my head.

"No, but that's not why. Darling, everyone is being called back. There have been some, attacks lately. Strange things that no one is claiming responsibility for. The pack-"

"The pack can deal with it without me," I add hopefully. "I'm not even able to turn. I don't get all furry and I'm pretty sure none of them even like me enough to worry that I'm out here on my own."

"Well your family do, and out here you're an easy target. You're coming home." She says firmly.

"I have a gun on top of the fridge and I know how to use it. I'm fine."

"This isn't negotiable and you keep it on top of your fridge?" Mum gasps.

"I have work, I can't just leave."

"You're a freelance journalist. You can work from home." She has an answer for everything and when she goes into my room, cursing my state of living every step of the way, I soon find my bags are now packed for me. "You can't bring the cat. Your father will never allow it, he has allergies."

"Kyle next door will look after him for me." I sigh giving in. "You know I hate you for this right?"

"At least you'll be alive to hate me." She shrugs looking much too smug for my liking.

"At least you'll be alive-" I mimic behind her back only to stop as she turns to glare at me. "Whatever."

The drive is long and boring, not helped by the fact Mum wouldn't let me drive and she doesn't have a phone charger in her car so half way there I'm forced to listen to the radio station of her choice. Conversation is minimal, which actually makes me nervous. Mum goes quiet when she's stressed and as a kid, it was a warning sign to run before she exploded. The calm before the storm, except there wasn't much that was calm about it. Sure I lacked the instincts of a dog, but I could still feel and sense the moods of those around me especially when they were this intense.

So just how serious was this threat to the pack?

"Wake up, we're home." Mum gently nudges my arm and sucking in a deep breath, the afternoon light surprises me.

"Already?" I yawn, stretching before getting out of the car. Dad appears at the front door, the blank look on his face not changing as I give him a wave. Oh, this will be fun. "Hey, Dad."

"Any trouble?" He asks, ignoring me and focusing only on Mum as she makes her way over.

"No, it was fine." She sighs, hugging him.

I grab my bag from the backseat and follow them inside. Nothing has changed since the last time I was here and dumping my bag by the stairs, I keep going into the kitchen where Dad is fussing about making Mum a coffee.

"Want one?" He doesn't look at me and I roll my eyes before answering.

"Yeah, thanks." An awkward silence settles over the kitchen and that's how we all stay as we sip our drinks and try not to make eye contact with each other. Deciding to be the bigger person, I break the silence. "Just say it."