Fight or Flight
I remember my tenth birthday all too well. My mother actually made me a cupcake which is weird nowadays since we don't have all the right ingredients- it was more like cornbread shaped as a cupcake with raspberry sauce as the icing.
My father, of course, organized a whole celebration in the village, since the leader's daughter was double-digits that day, he deemed it worthy for everyone to celebrate. I felt like a princess that day, of course I didn't get to wear a pretty ball-gown like the princesses I read about, but I had a whole celebration just for me.
Cyprian and I thought it'd be a good idea to sneak away from the commotion of people we barely knew and head into the woods. We thought we'd be safe since the day before my father and his group cleared out a load of beta werewolves just on the other side and well, since we were staying on our side of the river, we thought it was a brilliant idea.
We headed deep in the forest, where we found our favorite tree. That was the day we carved our names into it. I recall Cyprian saying to me: As long as this tree stands, Amaia, our friendship will too.
Cyprian was a rugrat when he was young. Always wearing some random villager's handmedowns and his blond hair was always messy like he just rolled out of bed last minute. He 'borrowed' war paint from his father and would paint himself silly so he always looked like a dalmation. But that day, my tenth birthday, he didn't paint himself, he wore his best fitted clothes, and he actually combed his hair.
It was just after noon when we saw the werewolf. He looked to be around our age. And Cyprian and I didn't know it was a werewolf at first. He approached us in human form so we actually thought it was some kid from the village that we always ignored. Cyprian called him over and asked him for his name, but he responded saying that his mom told him not to tell anyone his name. We were puzzled- why wouldn't he give us his name if he were just like us?
It occurred to me after as much as ten minutes of talking to this boy that he was not a boy at all. He was one of them. He was what all the adults warned us kids about. He was a beast. He was going to kill us.
I instantly thought what my father told me only days before: Fight or flight, Amaia. Always choose fight.
So I did- I drew the dagger from the sheath quietly as Cyprian kept him distracted. Has he even realized what we're dealing with? I don't know. So I held the dagger behind my back. I counted my raced heartbeats and then I saw it in the werewolf's eyes. He can hear my racing heart. I watch as he transforms from a boy no different from me and Cyp into a creature with long fanged teeth, pointy ears, and his face turned to look like a mix of wolf and human. I was terrified.
He pounced me and all I heard was his growling and the muffled voice of Cyprian. He scratched me from the bottom of my neck and all the way down my left arm to my wrist that now leaves a scar. I slashed the beast across his chest so quickly I wasn't sure what I was doing. The werewolf stumbled back and whimpered. I was just about to finish him off until I heard the calls of my parents and Cyprian's. We turned to look for our parents, me holding a bloody dagger and Cyprian- whose wild eyes were searching me.
When I turned my head back to face the werewolf, he was already gone. He ran away and left a pool of blood in replace. Even though I didn't kill him myself. I'm sure he'll die sooner or later.