Hush, Howl {8}


         This town was pretty much surrounded by forests. There is no wonder why no one ever had the courage to do anything behind the school grounds. Everybody in the school were afraid to go in because of the last reports of dead bodies. They were scared to be attacked by some sort of rabid animal. I have no idea why . . . but the forest feels like my second home.

           This time though, I didn’t just hold on to my feelings . . . I let myself break down into cries. The tears continued to pour down my face, but I remained quiet. 

         Yes, I cried.

         But those words that Caitlin said were not the reason why.

         I cried because everything was my fault.

         I sauntered quietly through the forest and sat down on a comfortable random spot under a twisted tree where I was certain no one would ever find me in. I’m not quite used to these parts of the forest, but I’m pretty sure I can start getting used around here. It was like the first time that found the flute under my parents’ duvet and ran away into the woods to try and start playing it—hopefully, I self-studied it while searching the internet for backup.

         I could be compared to a piece delicate glass, broken and shattered into pieces that can be regarded as useless. And though I could never be the same again, I managed to mend myself together with the help of my cousin and aunt. The flute brought me back to life . . . it brought up all of my hopes and opportunities. And though I couldn’t speak, the tune I play serves as my language—my voice, though different in a way.

         It was the same when you use art to express your feelings, though mine is in a form of music. 

         I rummaged through my bag, hoping to find my flute. When I took hold of it, I sighed and began to try and calm myself. Wiping the tears that fell from my eyes, I took a sharp breath and started to play it. Pouring all of my strongest emotion along with the tune. This time . . . I heard and felt anger, sadness . . . all the negative emotions that have been bottling up inside me for the past years of my life.

         I heard the rustling of leaves, but yet . . . I remained focused. I closed my eyes and allowed my tears to fall, thinking that maybe I'll find a way to lessen the pain that I already have in stored--like I did years ago to endure the loss of my parents. Though I did not let anything distract me at this moment. Even if that familiar, heavy, furry thing was laid across my lap.

I bet it’s the wolf again.

         Half-peeking through my blurry eyes, my suspicions were correct.

         Even though this wolf can’t speak like me . . . I felt as if he was lending me the comfort of his presence.

         At least someone or something knows how to become a companion. I never really have any friends in school besides my cousin.


         School starts at approximately one hour and five minutes. She still hadn't come back which made me feel guilty. If only I’ve known she was mute . . . I would’ve stopped Caitlin from saying anything. I’m not regretting anything about her being mine. She was beautiful . . . talented. Who wouldn’t want her as a mate? In fact I feel really proud. Though she can’t speak through her mouth, her language was distinct. The sound of music.

        I leaned against the tree and heaved a sigh of frustration. I haven’t left this spot ever since she decided to flee. I was hoping she would come back.