THE WOLF WITHIN ME
PTE
believing lies. The whole purpose of fairy tales was to instill irrational expectations in the minds of young girls. The idea that charming
living out a fairy tale on the outside, but every day was a nightmare. And
lection I had changed today, "Mirror, mirror,
an empty interior. My pale blue eyes were clear with striations of green color. They clashed with my feeble attempt at a dark purple c
reflection didn't help me with my query. The only imperfections on my face we
sts were mediocre, my waist was small, and my light blonde hair was long and straight. If I could have worked and my father
ded to have changed my appearance to look like someone else, I loathed the day I was
er. my s
d in our family history books as an extraordinary,
ieve
dge. She passed away after
too much blood. Twins, indeed. Our necks were both entwined in the birth cor
not wish that our circumstances had been different. Considering his di
day of what our family has
so he always knew what he was doing. He appeared to be the CEO of the most illustrious pharmaceutical business in the world. After overseeing ev
else ever disclosed his
projections made for show. The genuine, accurate world was disclosed by the hidde
hing to do with hi
ia boss in his spare time. His pharmacy served as a front for the manufacture of illicit drugs. His pharmace
ff. We lived in a compounded house with tightly guarded security, and my fathe
on from private tutors who preferred science topics like chemistry. I wasn't sure wh
gid schedule. They were not allowed to make eye contact with either of us, and a
de my
e clothing. Our enormous property was situated on meticulously maintained lawns. My bedroom walls were decorated with custom artwork, and my designated "team"
ghout my day, I was alone. I had a vanity mirror that gazed b
o glitz in
e mansion by myself. I was isolated and enmeshed in my own thoughts for the entirety of
, had breakfast, went to my morning lessons, had lunch, went to my afternoon lessons, took self-defense lessons
rmitted to use the library for personal reading purposes, have limited internet access, swim
wolf-related dream. A female wolf emerged from the shadows of my
king gaze with me and sprinting towards me. She came to a standstill six inches away, her ever-raised hair's finer details clearly visible. She
va.
a pounding headache, panting more profusely t
h t
lf dream, homeschooling, working out, and taking shooting lessons. Who amon
his home included an active shooter simulator and a shooting range. All of
how I feel
8, becoming of legal age, being freed from parental super
t
y. Nevertheless, one had to be alive in order t
thed watching the years pass as I reached my eighteenth birthday and assumed
ing of my dream was that I ought to play White Wolf.
side at the sight of today's cosmeti
o play a supporting role. My name was translated as "princess." When I turned eighteen,
ething else. I'm not interested in torturing and killing individuals i
videos, I learned what mafia life en
s, tapping white shoe and said
, and held out a makeup wipe at my face,
my dark purple experimenting and deep contourin
daily blood draw, and insulin injections. "How are you feeling today?
h chocolate doughnuts made
ut I just can't help it. We wo
," as expected. My words were meaningless beca
racelets?" They were specially constructed to fit at the base of my wrists, and they were two inches broad andew interactions had been strained by the inquiry. By usi
closer. Over clear glass, the name of my father's manufacturing
horribl
t or
terior exposed. The area was covered with tiny
ght f
ove. She drew my wrist closer, rapping the pads of her fingers into my veins as the cable dug into my skin. She used an alcohol pad to clean the ar
her while she grinned. She smoothly dispensed a few drips
and said, "Let go, Nov
ape please." She covered the puncture with a piece of gauze, press
eading a quick glance and
ured,
got to my feet and slowly rolled down the top of m
a s
skin two inches from my navel. I scowled at the light brown and green brui
n inch of my stomach and subcutaneously injected the drug. The bee sting chaser mad
hich way sh
ready be aw
ft." I then slid my pants down even more. I was now st
ted to handle thi
r quadrant of my left buttock. She quickly inserted the two-inch needle into my gluteal
ss between them. I've been doing this every day for the past three years, but I never got used to i
, how emb
sers, paying attention to the
ess mafia, this medical conversation with Kira was the only thing I had all day. Apart
lusion of our fascinating dis
nail against the empty syringe, "Excellent ne
the discomfort on my left
r, Type I diabetes doesn
nly revealed that I had cancer, I made a mental n
y anything, but your father will explain at d
nse as I wondered with whom she had antic
f my father's security escorts, "Ahem, M
ame behind schedule during my 'chat,' which w
y tardiness. I alternated between cardio and strength training six days a week. As
o thick arms already crossed over his
n. He had zero body fat on his chiseled frame. His hazel-brown eyes remained narrowed
hich ran the length of many rooms, reflected the numerous stations, which included fr
r, which displayed my flaws and fai
r than me. I had tried to get his attention before, but he was not interested in me. He
some habit of referr
behind my ears before saying, "Sorry." Despite having long hair, I usually h
with his motions. He has two facets to his personality: annoyance and apathy. His legs and spine became rigid, hi
doubtedly f
d, he pointed to a set of weights
textured metal handles. "Jeez, Flint," I muttered. Was
ifts, then squats and lunges. You're
gonising. similar like
ders, pulling my lips to one side. I clinched my teeth and
ed. Do it n
plans, M
ther's security guards opened the door. I looked up as the glass rattled a
ke a shower, and meet him in t
on the sides of my legs. I cast Flint a quick glance as my cheeks began to bu
he last time my schedule had changed. I quickly racked m
tching my skin. My hurting legs ached as I hurried to my bedroom while dodging the occasional security guard at each
pinafore dress, matching tights, and formal shoes made my nose wrinkle up. Only my father thought I was still d
hair, my father required I always wear it long, straight, and tucked behind my ears with clips. My hair wa
ecause they complemented my light skin and clear aquamarine eyes. If I spent more time outside, my s
nd light blonde hair as physical characteristics. Even my lashes and eyebrows were a lig
his way, M
ive crystal chandelier was arranged in a way that resembled an upside-down glacier. Angles of light and shadow were created by twinkling
I noticed my father seated at one end with two people on either side of him. For the first time in yea
ut my age. She had a petite build, brown hair that was curled, and red cheeks. Her brown eyes were shielded by thin, round
tly has th
and motioned with his eyes. His dark brown hair had grey strands running through it, and his shoulders had a slight forward sag. His tall, muscular frame had
that were clearly evident on his neck and chin. Baron was the muscle, and my father was the brains, of the enterprise. E
Baron in particular had frightened me because of the wa
und in my ears as the silence grew thicker. My arm's back developed goosebumps from the weigh
I had no idea how we were related as my gaze grew closer to him. We didn't re
own hair to become thinner, and he wore it brushed back so that he appeared to be constantly exposed to wind. His dark, usually menacing brown eyes battled with his olive complexion for attention. e
nizing, and irate manner. He never used a different tone with
ed prey, "You. Are. Late." With his elbows on the table and
I managed to say in a tight whi
oom made the girl next to my father tremble. "You nee
er. He frequently spoke in t
ancy in his voice as he spoke, "I
king about my training or lesso
cut through the air an
m and peered down at them. My gaze shifted to the girl to his
right, "Kira." The qu
d
tightly that my jaw sagge
tioning m
d girl curled inward, rounding her shoulders and spine. I sat erect in my chair, my h
was a late bloomer-I'm almost eigh
d be s
ore I gave that more serious thought, there was a startling list of things that had to be
a kiss, touch, embrace, or
piti
fourteen day half-life. She won't be eighteen for eleven more
truation like it's a televisio
den seat. My entire face and neck had reached the "red blotchy stage," a swelling, pink rash that appear
get any wor
r eyes, and I believe her ch
"Once she does, put her on the pill. We must stay o
rstand you
acies surrounding arranged marriage whirled in my head like
ore advanced training, and your academics will change starting tomorrow. You are qui
at's as kind
my mind was completely paralyzed with shock. Normally, my silence was broken by
ified female as "Ivy here.
on that the room was trembling. After a brief moment of silence, I swear that eight or nine security
fter my daughter starts bleeding -" - after which a? Confirmation
gesture with his hand. "N
y -" I said amid i
miss
carried back to my bedroom by a guard. Just as I turned to leave the din
d conversation my father has ever tried to have with me was too much for my brain to digest, and it k
I sat down with my hands in my lap while my ugly flo
que
related and new unanswered is
arth just
irth-control meth
e name on my s