The Awakening

Amelia wishes to be like her grandfather as he is the most reasonable family member she has that understands her. She loves being around him and for him to read her stories from their family book that has been passed down for many centuries. But during one day, on Christmas with all of her family members, their dinner manages to escape. When it's left up to her family, along with her grandfather, to capture the humans once again, something deep inside awakens in her that has been in her family for years and she acts upon first instincts. Doing something she has never done before.
*It's a short story, only one chapter*


1. The Awakening

     “Get dressed honey, family is going to be coming over soon,” Mother chirped.

      I hold my breath, as I want to release it heavily, but know I shouldn’t because it would be a disrespect to sigh after Mother has told me to do something. But I do manage to release short breathes with each step I take up the steps.

       When I make it up the steps, I have released all of my sigh, but I drag my feet to my bedroom. I close the door, adding a click to lock my door, so I can get changed into proper clothing. I slip inside my dress Mother has picked out for me to wear and slide in my fancy shoes. Why couldn’t I wear something more comfortable to me?  Can’t just a shirt and jeans do just as well as a dress? I can’t even play in this thing!

         I unlock my door, pulling the door open furiously, enraged by the Rules Mother and Father have set me for the Christmas season.

         Then I hear the front door open with Father allowing in our first guest. Upon hearing the guest’s voice, all anger fades away and delight floods my heart.

         “Grandfather!” I exclaim, flying down the stairs and into Grandfather’s arms.

          Father grips his hand tightly around my arm and does a strong tug, pulling me away from Grandfather.

          “No Amelia! What have we told you about this? I’m sorry Grandfather,” Father explains sternly and goes on about the Rules of the Family and blah, blah, blah.

          I don’t care. They are stupid Rules.

          During Father’s lecture, Grandfather interrupts with, “It’s fine. Amelia is a good girl, right?”

          I nod my head feverishly.

         “Now who wants a hug?” Grandfather asks, opening his arms wide for me. I stretch my arms out as far as I can and hug him, squeezing him tightly. Grandfather returns my embrace, just as tight as mine. When we release, I ask Grandfather if he has brought the book. He shows me the dull red cover from inside his coat, and I can barely hold my excitement.

         This book has been passed down for years in our family as everyone contributes a part to the book, with a story of their First. The First are true stories that has happened before to each and every family member. First is a family tradition where it’s our first hunting and we record it down in the Red Book. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to go on my First!

          Grandfather extends his hand towards me. I beam a bright smile and take hold of his hand as he grins back at me. We walk together into the living room and right over to our designated spot for reading the Red Book, which is a towering maroon recliner right in front of the Christmas tree. My baby Brother, Abraham, gazes hypnotically at the twinkling tree and the brightly smoothed wrapping paper that are our presents while being encaged by his play pen. He knows better to not make a fuss unless it is urgent like an emergency.

              Grandfather sits in the maroon recliner while opening up his coat to take out the Red Book. When he is settled, I climb onto his lap. With his gnarled hands, he opens the worn out cover, turning the crinkled pages of the ancient book. Grandfather know my favorite story because I ask him to read it every time he is here, which is his story.

            Grandfather’s parents had died when he was young, but he was old enough to know what the First were and he had the book while in foster care. He never let anyone touch it because it’s a family owned book and if it were to be ruined, there are no extra copies. He went out on his First when his instincts kicked in at age 10 (which is of the youngest ages for the First to be in the Red Book). At that exact moment, he dropped everything he was doing and went out to hunt prey. It took him only one try when capturing his prey, but since he didn’t have a home to bring it to, he built his own shed for hunting, keeping everything hidden.

          Hearing his story makes me wish to be as great as Grandfather. I wish my instincts would come early like his, but throughout the years it shows that the women in the family achieve theirs later than the men.

          Just as Grandfather finishes a couple stories including his, Mother and Father come rushing out of the kitchen and into the living room with panicked expressions on their faces. This is something that never happens, I’m surprised to see that Mother and Father have emotions at all.

          But out comes the words nobody would have ever thought would come out.

         “Our hunt has escaped everyone and we need your help to catch them again,” announces Father, “The first to catch the humans gets to eat the most of them.”

           I turn to look at the rest of the room, shocked by how many family members managed to come over without me noticing. I look over at Grandfather and asks, “May I come along too Grandfather? I promise to be much help with catching the humans.”

           “Sorry Amelia. You are too young and haven’t achieved your instincts yet. Plus it can be dangerous if the humans have weapons with them,” Grandfather explains.

          Frowning deeply, I slide off of Grandfather’s lap so he can stand along with other family members who are old enough to hunt. Each of their eyes glowing different colors as they awaken their instincts. They line up in an orderly line leading out the back door, where each of them start their hunt in our backyard.

          When the last Aunt closes the glass door, instantly something feels like a trigger has been pulled in my stomach. I wrench forward having an entirely new feeling that takes over me, like newly gears being switched on for the first time running smoothly. Joy, anger, hunger, and confidence fills my soul and I dash up the steps, closing my door, I throw on a shirt, jeans, and sneakers. I race down the steps, into the living room, ignoring my mom’s calls for me as I step outside into the cold crisp air.

           My feet hurry in a way like never before as my nose intensifies smelling something that makes my hunger grow even more. My feet and nose have a mind of their own as they guide me aimlessly through the forest in search for something- our dinner.

           Then that’s when I spot it at the corner of my eye, moving figures. The humans. My meal. I rush over to their direction as I collide into Grandfather. In his glowing yellow eyes, there were a list of emotions passing through them: fear, confusion, then overall proudness. He hands over a pocket knife with an engraved design on the handle and smiles at me. I smile back, grip the handle of the pocket knife, and continue on my way to our hunt as they try to run, but they can’t out run me. I capture them and withdraw the lives from the humans in victory and celebration.


          Grandfather and I carry back the humans as most of the family is amused to find out that I, Amelia, had caught our hunt and not Grandfather. But all of them, including Mother and Father, congratulated me on my First. I am now officially the youngest in our family to have their First so early as I am age eight.

           When the hunt is cooked, I give my extra pieces of human to Grandfather. After dinner Grandfather and I meet at the maroon recliner.

          “Amelia, I am very proud of you for today.You did an execellent job. But now I want you to have this,” Grandfather says handing me the Red Book, “It’s time to write your story in it.”

          I grin up at him and dig into my pocket, remembering to give back his pocket knife, “Thank you Grandfather. And here is your pocket knife back.”

          Grandfather smirks at me proudly and says, “It’s yours now. My time for hunting is done. Plus it was your Christmas present, so keep it.”               



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