Wolf's Whisper

A cold breath crept down my back. My mind must be playing tricks on me, there's nothing there. Or is my mind tricking me into thinking it isn't there?

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2. Last Night

 

The white darkness of the month of December spread across the sky, like a blanket that I should have over my shoulders, or a coat. There's no point in going in to get a jacket now, it's starting to get dark, and time is becoming heavier. The bitter wind twirled amongst the trees, trying to rid of it's purpose, and trying to display some beauty here. Well, here, that's quite a lot to do. It's always been quite a job to make this place look beautiful, or even remotely nice in-fact.

 

I lifted my neck to the sky, examining the whiteness. Shouldn't it be snowing? I mean the sky looks so white, (grey sort of) and it is December, so it's not like it isn't cold enough. It hasn't snowed in London (yes I know, bad place to live) for fifteen years. Coincidentally, for how long I've been in this place. I bet it's not a coincidence though, probably me scaring the snow away. Even though I know that's not possible, knowing my luck, it is for me. The garden is so miserable and wet, the closest thing we get to snow, is sleet, which doesn't have a purpose. Just tempts us, saying 'Ha, you'll never have snow.' The weather is harsh.

 

I laboured myself up the tree onto my numb feet, after being in the cold for hours, your legs tend to get a little, well frozen. I hobbled across to sludgy mud that was once grass. Occasionally hopping over a football or a piece of sports equipment. I'm not really paying attention to what they were, but to where they were. When I got across, I stamped my feet, attempting to free my shoes of mud. Failed. Oh well. I entered the living which has had the seasonal makeover since I was outside. I rolled my eyes at the sight of it. It's been done so poorly, it looks so... cheesy.

 

 

The originally green sofa has had a red cover pulled illy over it, green peered through the corners. Looks terrible. As for the rest of the room, it wasn't so bad. Actually, the rest was better than last year. The Christmas tree was up, green and red lights circling it in amazement at the sight of the not bad looking tree. Tinsel zig-zagged around the tree too, in gold and silver. There wasn't a star or an angel on the top this year. I think one of the kids broke it last year while packing the decorations away, I'm not too sure. Cards of different kinds have been hung or stuck to the walls. Most of them being the classic Santa in a chimney or reindeer pulling the sleigh. In my opinion, Christmas cards are a waste of time. I don't send them out, it's a waste of paper. I can say 'Merry Christmas' and all that myself. I don't need to write it down on a picture that's so cheesy and give it to them. Especially when they know what it's going to say.

 

I rushed upstairs, not wanting to see anymore Christmas stuff. I have reasons for hating this time of year, it's also why I'm here. I almost ran up the stairs, which also caused me to tripped occasionally. But to my luck for once, I caught my balance. I slammed the door behind me when I got to my own room. I starred at the walls, as if there was something about them that was different. Being crazy, I shook it from my head and threw myself onto the bed. I twisted my curly red hair around my index finger, while looking up at the ceiling. The white ceiling over the years has grown less and less clean, I never thought about cleaning it. Maybe because I'm not the cleaning sort of person.

 

I turned my head to the white frame window, which also has grown dirtier. And no, I'm not unhygienic, it's not like it's growing fungus. Yet. I kicked off my shoes, my socks still on. I slid under the duvet, and curled up like a cat. Completely underneath the duvet, from head to toe, I fell asleep within minutes.

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