❝Trust me to get involved with you, the worst werewolf ever.❞
A green light catches my eye, the glow peeking over the top of a bookshelf like a sun slowly rising over the distant hills. I sprint to the place the glow was originating, weav...
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There are a lot of weird sayings out there that have been around since–what seems like–the beginning of time. No one actually knows who started them, but they're there. None I really believed in. They were just something someone once said that stuck on.
Except for one.
We've all hear that bad things come in threes. I don't know who actually made this up, but I thought it was nonsense until it started happening before my very eyes
Number one, my best friend died.
Her name was Charlotte Beatrice Relios and she died on the eighteenth of July, my birthday.
She was planning to sleep over at my house that night and spoil me rotten. She was always happy, I almost never saw her frown which was almost the complete opposite to me, except when she was around. Her smile was contagious and I was not strong enough to force down the corners of my lips once her laughter started ringing in my ears.
She had left to grab some snacks and movies from the 24/7 corner store at the end of the next street. I was going to go with her, but my mum had asked me to clean the living room so I can set up Lotte and I a bed each before she got back. After I had cleaned, I turned on the TV so I could ready it for the movies once Lotte returned, but she never did.
The news blared, warning us about an armed attack that happened at the corner street just moments before, only one fatality.
I still remember my heart sinking and the feeling of almost levitating as I sprinted to the store.
The only thing I said to her parents was I'm sorry, it should have been me. But they wouldn't have any of that, and wished me a happy birthday through tears.
the gunman was never caught.
Number two, my mother died.
I still remember every detail of that day down to a single piece of hair stabbing into my eye, down to the cracks in the concrete that no one actually knew how they got there. And down to the pure fear of waiting for hours in the hospital with my brother by my side, hoping dad would be able to get out of that traffic jam soon and make it to us. Because, surely Mum would want to see him when she got out of surgery, right?
But most of all I remember hearing Tram scream out of agony after calmly walking to the bathroom. After being told that our mother hadn't made it, he immediately put me first, running straight back to me with a locked jaw so he wouldn't cry as I shook with tears of my own.
It was the worst day of my life and it always will be.
Number three, I became a murderer.
After the murder of both my mum and best friend, I started seeing them everywhere I went and hearing what seemed like whispers of nothing, ringing in my ears like rusty old church bells blown in the wind.
My dad became worried, feeling like the trauma and heartache had caused me to go mad. Neither of us knew that was the start of something bigger than we could control.
I kept certain things from him, like my once blue irises turning red at random times, followed by a stream of crimson liquid, running from my eye like a stream of blood.
And the scream, the scream I only did once when I was walking home late at night. I had the same feeling I got before both deaths, the tight throat and blocked chest, and without warning I let out a deafening wail, shattering the streetlights with a sonic boom until there was nothing but darkness and glass surrounding me. Only moments after did a car come flying past me at an almost impossible speed, rolling down the road like a barrel filled with blood and rubbish.
Dad had taken me to the local psychiatric hospital so I could get better, but I knew it was because he couldn't deal with losing Mum and me at the same time. I had begged him to turn back and forget all about this because I could feel my throat tightening by the second. But, he didn't listen to me and ignored my pleas.
Then, when someone came to escort me away, the scream fought its way through my closed throat and past my tongue, vibrating off of the walls and bursting all the light bulbs and windows. Everyone around me dropped to the floor with blood spilling from their ears and eyes. I had screamed so loud their brains had exploded in their head like a strawberry in a blender, now a chunky mess.
The first thing I did, was spin around to face where my family was, letting out a cry of relief once I saw them standing there, terrified but okay. That was the last thing I saw before my eyes closed, and darkness carried me away in its arms.
