Reject Me If You Can! I Dare You...

Y

y mother cannot contain her joyous expression as she bobs her head and drums on the steering wheel. I turn around to observe my br

he truck sl

off the ground... Owen’s scr

moke. I strive to sit up, but it eludes me. My body seems to be undergoing a self-healing process. Blue's whimpering

they okay? You need to track them down. Find them.’ She gro

s no indication of anything. I put my nose high in the air and try with all of my ability to pick up their scent, but I can’t find it. I strain to h

en!?” I s

’s voice respond. “

okay.” I yell back

y body. They struggled, but the weight pinning them down was too much to bear. I can

the car, and then I see her long,

cry out

disappearing from sight. A small whimper escaped my lips as I squ

t. “Where’s mom? Why

ertainty. The thought is so abhorrent that I cannot bear

fear has on

unveil my eyes. “Owen, I need

I'm lying

nderneath of myself and place my hands firmly on

He call

metallic scent of blood fills my n

where’

ken glass, to get to him. I pretend not to hear his question about mom and instead delve into a dif

ost ther

eek and his hair is strewn with pieces of glass from the broken window. The door, which was

Ow

He attempt

completely trapped beneath the door, and t

I’m going to move the door off o

drop to my hands and k

shield is shattered, and the airbag is deflated, but she's still alive. She still hasn’t moved and I’ve noticed that the smell of b

ky

h, O

d to do something scary, we would hold hands and the other would count to three. Despite my effo

nod, even thoug

ush it so that it lies on the other side of him. I carefully roll him over so t

r to get a better look at mom’s injuries so we can help her. By no

looking. The smell of blood is so strong and her lifeless body in the front seat solidifies my worst fear. I look back at

right Sky?”

okay.

. A stampede of howling wolves of all colors and sizes comes storming out of the woods, my father in the lead. Some of them shift

were teenagers. But the mark is different now. It’s fading right before my eyes. My father’s face is the same. Hard and cold, like it’s b

tatue, not mo

ins from

he time to look f

nless, fixating

er’s eyes dart over to us and his pained expression is gone and he’s back to his normal stoic

efore he runs towards us,

n’s hair, knocking some of the glass out

as the chance to answer. My facial expression is unchang