It started with a wolf


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1. Lone Wolf

Hesitantly I picked up the glass ring, whilst staring deeply into the wolfs eye. I knew if I were to let my eye slip from his I would be in danger. The smell off burnt meat lingered heavily in the wasted air. A body of smoke slowly gobbled up the reminents of the once dazzling cottage and left a state of burnt down scraps. "You idiot!" he bellowed furiously. "You absolute idiot. Think you can get away from me that easily?" The anger following his curses spread like flames "I will burn your escapes to stump and one day you will not escape!" His eyes pierced a foul hole right through me. His feet started to pace towards me getting quicker and quicker. Advancing each stride. His arms plunged for me. For a bare second I thought I had dodged his attack but to only find his arms tightly strung around my neck, pressing me harder and tighter to the wall. I couldn't say anything or move so I just stood there piercing my eyes into his. The wolf's. They were as black as night but when you stared deeper a flame, an inferno, sprung wildly out of no where. Quickly I placed the ring into my pocket and began to push back. As much much as I tried to wriggle and squirm out of his grasp, I was getting no where. I had to use the only karate move I ever learnt from youtube. They called it; The windmill. I locked my legs with the wolf; clenched my fists tightly together; threaded my arms through his that sent them away in shock. As fast as I could I grabbed the back of his head and collided it with my knee. Now he was all mine. I pulled my leg further up and  bashed it up from under his chin. As he collapsed heavily into the burnt, murky floor I limped out the door and dragged my swolen foot behind.

The fresh air harshly cleansed my throat and lungs, leaving me there, flushed and kneeling on the hardened ground. I opened my eyes and squinted around me. Fields of golden flowers glistened brightly in the golden sunlight. I closed my eyes. I saw myself sitting on an old oak bench, the one behind my dad's old barn. I saw my dad. He was smiling. 'I wish I could see him again' I thought to myself. The sight of his smile brought the image of the rest of my family into view. I could see my little brother and sister run around the cobbled yard trying to catch one of the loose chicken as my mum stands in the kitchen, door wide open, cooking up a traditional Sunday roast. Mum calls us in for dinner when suddenly the sky turned a deep threatening gray as a black BMW pulled up into our drive. I tried to get the thought out of my mind before he stepped out of the car but it was to late. The man hesitantly strode out of the glistening car. It was obvious that he had never has been associated the the country side before and I guess he never wanted to be. His face was already embeleshed with anger as he paced towards us. He held his hand closely behind his back and asked if all family member could gather in the kitchen. I instantly fled inside the barn, jumped up into the pile of hay and sat there till I thought he had gone. After a while I started to get nervous, every where around me had just fallen silent. Not a sound had peeped form the house, the instant he came. Five minutes had passed then several shots came from near by. A hurricane of screams came from the house but I couldn't do anything. I sat on the heap of hay and cradled myself, tears pouring from my eyes until I fell asleep. I opened my eyes and stared blankly into the distant fields. Because of that man, that wolf, I had lost my family, my home, my life. He's known as most commonly 'the wolf' for many reasons but the main reason is his keen hunting skills, and I don't mean hunting down something for tea, he will never give up.

The village was quaint and quiet but happiness blossomed all around. It was as if no one noticed the burning cottage. It bared a resemblance of the village the farm used to lay near. In fact it was exactly like it; the small stone church, grey wolf pub and the small duck pond in the middle of the wood. I used to go for walks down there, you know, to smell the fresh air and to feel one with the earth. I puled myself up from the ground and walked down the old farmers lane. 

The house was empty, no furniture, no mess, no sale sign just some spare clothes. I checked the kitchen and as soon as I entered, a wave of rotting meat flooded through my lungs. I checked over the stove to find a small turkey swarmed with flies. "That turkey has been there for two years!"spoke a voice from behind me. I spun round frantically grabbing the rolling pin that my mum must have used for making Yorkshire puddings as remnants of stale batter was glued to one side. A large blond hair boy stood in the door way. "So my instincts tell me you're not from around here, anymore. Am I correct?" I just stared at him, disturbed and suspicious. I stayed silent. "Cat got ya tongue? You're not the most chattiest person I know, that's for sure." My mind began to fog up  "What are you doing here? This is my house!" This is my house... The words crossed my mind over and over again.  "Look if you really are considering to hold this little game on longer then I might as well refresh your memory!" I stared at him in disbelief. 'Refresh my memory'? What was he talking about? Carefully, he took me by the wrist and walked me to the fridge. "There." He placed his finger on a framed photo, stuck on it. I was there. I must have been about five, dressed in a furry deer costume. Posing, ridiculously, next to me was a tall, blond boy who was just skin and bone but was dressed as well in a deer. Behind us was a giant man. Toby I think his name was, who always frightened me. Toby was in a grey wolf suit and pretended to snarl and eat us; he knew my fear of wolfs. "Michael?" I frowned as the words came out of my mouth, in case I was wrong. "Olivia!"

We had always been best friends and we were inseparable. The very first day we moved to this farm, Michael and his parents came to visit us. I was only one but so was he and we still became attached. When we were four I  had my first party. I invited everyone but I sent about a dozen invitations to Michael so that he would come. After he visited I didn't no where to go. I should have went to Michael but I kept running. For years I convinced myself that the only reason I never asked for his help was because I didn't want him to be in danger, but it wasn't true, I was scared. Scared enough to just run into the middle on no where and starve to death. Leaping into his arms, I gave him a giant hug. After a while of serving ourselves to any left overs, we eventually discussed what had happened. "I could have helped you!" Moaned Michael.                                                     "You would be dead if you did!" I snapped back, glancing over my shoulder to only find a small nest of birds (for some reason, I imagined my family would come back into the house as if nothing had happened) Silence filled the room.                                                                                                                                                     "Look at you," Michael must have wanted to fill the awkward silence, "It looks like you've ran through a bush!" I  glanced at him with a look that roughly translated- 'Are you serious?' but I knew he was joking. "What do I do?" he looked puzzled, "People, everyone, think I'm dead-" Michael jumped up out of his seat and ran upstairs. Quickly and clumsily, I followed after. "Here!" He handed me a small parcel, decorated in red wrapping paper and decorated in a coat of dust. "You disappeared before your birthday, I know you were missing for more than  one year and I did buy you other presents but mum took them away." I tried to take my eyes away from the parcel but they were stuck tight. "For four years you bought me birthday gifts." He dropped his head down, "I'd imagine you thought I was dead too?" He looked at me with one eyebrow up the other down and smile spread on his face then wrapped his arms tight \around me whispering 'Not a single moment did I think you were dead!' All of a sudden he pulled my head under his arm and rubbed the top of it. I tried my most convincing laugh but cries of pain occasionally slipped out. Eventually he stopped and pushed the present in my face. Carefully, I opened the lid. Inside was more paper, then more and more. Inside was a small box, most likely a jewelry box. Empty! Michael chuckled to himself

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