My name is Daisy Lorock and I am 15 years old. I was born in Egypt; right now I am learning how to be an Egyptian Priestess. When I was five years old, I got mad at my parents for not letting me go to a friends’ house, for it was the day of the full moon. I turned and I took out my anger on them so now I am afraid of my wolf form. On my 15th birthday everything hit the fan, for an American showed up and no one in Egypt like Americans not even I. I mean no one not a soul.
So when he arrived I was assigned to deal and protect him from the people. That is part of the job, and I welcome it. For everyone knows what I have done,
it also helps put me at ease. I also have to stay pure so I don’t break my vows. You have to take vows to be a Priestess, I am almost a Priestess. Right now I am an apprentice; the final test is you have to pass a god or goddess’s approval. So as I am giving this American a tour of Egypt, he kept asking questions, all about me, not about Egypt.
“What is your name Priestess?”
“My name is none of your business American!” I snapped at him.
“A little testy aren’t we Priestess? I am going to take a guess okay, I think your name is Daisy Danielle Lorock,” then I slapped him.
“What are you American? A fool or something,” I asked tersely.
“Well my werewolf friend, I know a lot about you and you alone,” he answered. I turned back to him and I was about to cry.
“How do you know that?!” I asked scared, for if an American knows my secret. Then I will not be able to fit in anywhere.
“Well I think I know when I have come across my own kind,” he said. Then I turned on him.
“Don’t you tell a soul, if you do? I will hunt you down, by the power of Ra,” he only smiled and he walked away. That made me extremely mad; I walked back to the temple, and guess who was there… He was reading one of my books.
“American give me my book now, and leave. For this place is for priests, priestess, gods, and goddesses,” he only smiled and kept reading. “Okay misters say my name or I don’t answer. Will you give me my book and leave, I don't know your name and nor do I want to,” then he looked up and closed my book.
“What’s the magic word?” he said with a smile.
“Okay smart alek, will you please give me my book and leave,” he got up and walked towards me, but he was a little to close for comfort.
“Finally, I thought your mother would have taught you your manners,” then he handed me my book back. “Who wrote this book?” he asked. Then I swallowed for I had a bad feeling about this.
“Which one did you grab,” I asked. When I went to grab it, he pulled it back towards him.
“I grabbed Howling at the moon. Why does it matter?” he asked.
“Yeah it matter, for I wrote that one myself. That is the original manuscript,” he just looked at me, shocked. No I must have been mistaken, seeing things; yeah that is what I have thought.
“W… Where did you get your inspiration?” he asked and I swear that his jaw was clenching.
“I get my inspiration from my dreams, I am lucky that I remember them. Every one of them that I have I write them down in the order that they come. So that is all of them in that manuscript in order,” then he unclenched his jaw.
“My apologies, priestess, I shouldn’t have came in here,” he turned his back to me and walked away. Before he stepped outside, he looked at me over his shoulder.
“That book is not fiction; there is only two people that could’ve written that
book, the same way completely identical. Look through your book, go over the names, and connect the dots. Only then will you understand, and remember completely and fully,” then he walked away. Leaving me confused and extremely mad, for I have being confused.