The Twilight Circle

Olathe is a werewolf, and a damn pretty one, too (On the front cover :P). Her name actually means beautiful. But when she meets a stranger, her life begins to stir up. Things are turned upside down! In this crazy life of hers, four men are each fighting for the right to claim her as their own. Some girls would dream of this; but circumstances are not on Olathe's side.
~The first compelling novel in the Grey Wolves series~


9. Tears Of Childhood

Eventually, I arrive back at my house, to find my parents sitting at the dinner table. They eye me suspiciously as I pass, but if they have any questions to ask, or any doubts, they don't voice them. I don't dare mention Dante, because I'm scared they might try and hunt him down. We're all silent as I run up the stairs to my bedroom, and slam the door.


I sigh as I slump against the closed door, sliding down until my butt hits the floor. I pull my knees to my chest, and lean my head between my knees. ... Eugh, I reek of wet dog! I think, pulling my head back and wrinkling my nose in disgust. I throw off the sweat-pants and jumper I was wearing, and pull out a clean pair of pajamas and undergarments. Putting them on my bed, I open my cubboard and pull down a towel. Placing the folded towel on the floor near the shower door, I turn on the hot water.

As I wait for the water to heat up, I stare at my mirror, looking into my own eyes. I stare for a long moment, until the mirror fogs up. Even then, I stare for just that little bit longer, as the steam from the shower warms my back. When I turn, I freeze.

Someone is standing behind me.

Someone who's long since been dead.


I want to scream, but my voice has gone, been stolen. I scream and scream and scream until my throat is raw, but still no sound escapes my lips.

It's His ghost. The ghost of the man that did a horrible thing.

The reason I lost my virtue at age seven.




I can't move, I can't see, I CAN'T MOVE. But I can hear the sound of the birds settling down for sleep, and I can feel the grass beneath my bare feet.


Then I can see and hear again.

But I'm not in my bathroom any more.

I'm seven years old, and I'm at the park across the street from my house, at late afternoon, in Summer, because it's still really warm. I'm wearing my favourite bright blue summer dress that goes to the top of my knees. It has no straps, you tie a loop around your neck. I'm running around, jumping over things in my imagination. Then, a big hand grabs my stomach and covers my mouth. Then a low, rough voice whispers in my ear, "Don't scream, or run away. You'll only make it worse." I bite his finger and try to break free, but he pulls me tighter and something hard is pressing between my shoulder blades. It's a zip, and I assume he's hiding a ball in his pants. Oh, I think, he just wants to play ball with me. I let myself slump, my naivety getting the better of me.

Then he drags me in his house.

When he asks if I want a glass of water, I say yes because I don't want to be rude. Even when he drops something bubbly in the water, I assume it's flavouring. He gives me the glass, and I finish the whole cup. He looks pleased. I smile at him, and then the world starts to go fuzzy around the edges.

I hear the cup fall on the ground.


When I wake up again, I'm naked, and he's laying on top of me, and-

-then he puts it in.

I scream. Tears are running down my face. I'm screaming and yelling and crying at the same time. Why does it hurt so much?! What is he doing?! I scream and cry until my throat stings and my eyes burn.

After ten minutes of torture, he whispers in my ear, "Don't tell anyone, or I'll come back and kill you."

Then, he throws me out, me holding my underwear and dress in my arms.


I sprint back into the park, getting as far as I can from the bad man as I can. When I reach my backyard, only then do I get dressed again. After I put my underwear on, I see blood on my legs. Why was that man bleeding? I think, when it was actually the other way around. Tears are still running down my face when I run inside and hug my mummy. "What's wrong?" Mummy asks me, and I know she thinks I saw a spider or a dead bird.

Mummy," I say, "a mean man hurt me and told me not to tell you because he would come back and kill me!" Only then does mummy look down and realise I'm bleeding all over her leg. Her eyes go big and she calls daddy. Daddy runs to me, and asks me where the bad man lives. I say he lives on the other side of the park, and mummy calls the police. I take daddy with me to the park and point to the bad man's house. "There." I say.

Then daddy turns into a big doggy. Daddy told me he could turn into a big doggy, but he never showed me. I watched daddy run to the bad man's house and break into the door. The man yells and then daddy bites him. The man doesn't scream any more and daddy watches him fall to the ground. Before the man dies, he sees me, and says, "I will get you again." Daddy turns back again and hugs me.

"He's gone," Daddy says, "he can't hurt you again."


He's hurting me again.




When my eyes open again, the shower is still running and the bathroom's hot and stuffy. I rub my head, which now has a lump, and lift my head from the floor. Tears spill out of my eyes as that horrible memory bounces around in my head. Blinking, I turn on the cold water as well, and step into the shower.


The water pelting my back gets rid of the feeling of jeans pressed against my shoulder blades. It gets rid of the pain. It calms me down. I sigh as I exit the shower, drying off and putting on my close. Tears are welling up again in my eyes as I put on my underwear and pajamas, and I sprint down the stairs as tears flood from my eyes. Mum's sitting on the couch when I cuddle up to her, crying into her shoulder. She looks shocked. "What's wrong?" I wince. She asked me the exact same thing back then.


"He came back."

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