blood wars

In the middle of the forest,trees passed me by. I was racing with inhuman speed, chasing a scent, so fresh and bold, unlike anything I have ever inhaled before. Above me, stars shimmered against a black velvet sky, a silver moon hanging amongst them. Sudden howls sounded in the distance, signaling the hunt was on. They were faster than I though. Already at my heals, the pack leader snapped his jaws at my flank. Claws raked against my sides, red, sticky liquid flooded the qwound, exposing my flesh. I yelped in astonishment, at the quick reflexes of the wolf. Growls erupted from me, and I stopped running.. That smell, the scent of my blood, was what triggered my halt. I felt my eyes begin to burn, but I ignored it. Turning on the others, I lashed out, tagging the nest wolf,my claws fully unsheathed. With the might of my ancestors, I tackled the one I tagged. The leader yipped in surprse. Howling with fury, I raked my claws along the Alpha male’s muzzle. Again, the sudden sent caught my nose. I was hypnotized, intoxicated, by the stench. It clouded my mind, breaking my attack. The wolves saw something, something that made their eyes widen in horror. That something was me. Not knowing what I actually was, I fled from the scene, across a narrow path, and deep into the forest. Stopping only to catch my breath, I sniffed the air around me, to find any dangers possible. Nothing, I thought gratefully. A small pool of water lay close by, shining with the light of a full moon. Perfect timing to catch my reflection. Taking a deep breath, I leaned over the bank, amazed yet afraid of the image I received. Two large green eyes, two triangular pricked ears, a long snout filled with razor sharp teeth, tipped with a black nose, and light gray fur greeted me..



I woke in my bed, in my parent’s house, still gasping, my neck and back sweaty from the dream. The dream! I thought. It was so real, I thought if I looked at my hands I would find paws and claws. The aroma of the blood satill haunted me, clouding my mind. My alarm clock read 5:52 A.M. might as well get up now. No use in waiting for the thing to ring anyway.. I thought. Getting out of bed, I got my clothes for school together, and went to the door across the hall to get my shower. Knocking out of habit, I was surprised to find the light glowing under the door, steam billowing from the two and a half inch gap. No one answered my knocks, so I pounded louder. My 17 year old sister Clare, yelled from the other side of the door.

“Sorry, Jimmy, but I gotta leave at six thirty so I can rehearse before the competition. Clare was your average Prep, captain of the cheer squad, and Valedictorian to boot. She was stuck up, snobby, and also a vegetarian. How could she not need the proteins and fibers from the delicious beef and pork, but can do round offs and flips and whatnot so perfectly?

“C’mon Sis, I need to take a shower. If you used up all the hot water, I’ll--” I didn’t get to finish. Clare had swung open the door, dressed in a fuzzy pink towel, and nothing else.. She looked aggravated as hell, but oh well. She can get over it. I needed a quick shower, mostly to get the sweat off/ plus, the hotness would soothe my muscles. Coach Tucker had gave us extra drills yesterday at football practice.



“What do you need so badly it cannot wait another ten minutes?” Clare griped, eyes narrowing. The sight of her, like a freaky pink flamingo, made me laugh the slightest bit.

“ What? What are you laughing at, huh?” she demanded.

“If you really want to know, look at yourself in the mirror. Pink might be your color, but you cant rock a fuzzy towel too well, Clare. I think it even goes against the dress code. “ I retorted,m snickering. Clare stck her nose in the air, a sign that she thought she was much btter than the vermin standing in fron oif her. She stepped out of the bathroom, and headed to her room, slamming the door behind her. For such a snoody Prep, clare sure dressed fast. By the time I got another towel (she had used the last one for her hair), she was already out of her room and starting downstairs. I don’t know how she does it,. Probably that stupid high matabolism. Here I was, a whole ten months younger than she, and I could barely dfrag myself out of bed in the morning. I got back to the bathroom, finding out the floor wasn’t so dry as I would have liked.. I slipped across the floor, nearly falling many times. When I got to the large walk-in shower, I was relieved to find the water still scalding hot. As soon aqs I got undressed and into into the water, I was s0othed. Then the water shut off. Someone was operating the kitchen sink. The watter came back on, but it was ice cold. I screamed in surprise, and leapt out.

“Clare!” I bellowed.

No thanks to Clare, I had to finish my shower quickly, because she wouldn’t lay off the kitchen sink. Every few seconds, she would turn on the hot water, making the water cold, then the cold, making it hot. I wish mom or Dad would hire a plumber to fix that. I would greatly take my shower in peace. After I got rinsed off, I just said screw it and got out. Drying off, I saw something very disturbing. Clare had left her thongs on the floor. We had already had this discussion once or twice, ending with me putting my boxers all over her bed and make-up desk. She tried to punch me, but hey, her weak little cheer leader’s arms can’t impact. I just grabbed her hands and shoved her to the ground. I guess football practice really helped in beating up my big sister. My little big sister, as I liked to call her.



Now it was time to eat breakfast, consisting of a granola bar, a protein shake ( Root beer float) and a few pieces of bacon. Mary Thornhart, A.K.A. Mom always baked stuff, like homemade breads, casseroles, and pies. Not that I’m complaining. But Clare always says that Mom never spent a lot of time with her. Well, what do you call helping with homework, making promotional cupcakes for Homecoming, and teaching her new moves in gymnastics? Clare, oh poor little neglected Clare, never thought of anyone but herself. Typical. Whoa, what am I saying? I never thought of anyone but myself either. But at least I had my moments. Clare had too much drama to have moments.



Heading out the door to school, Dad called a quiet ‘have a great day’ as he left for hi construction site. Layne Thornhart, Dad, always had time, but us teens found it awkward to ask dads for help. I never really had to ask for any help on school stuff. Or on football. Dad was always a football fanatic, which is probably why I was forced to try out in my sophomore year. I hate football, but I only do it for Dad, you know, to make him proud. Dad never hustles me, but I know, by the way he looks at me, that he wished I would do much better, like making straight A’s ad being quarter back of the Varsity team. I was just a wide receiver. Oh well. I would rather be water boy, but little Mickey Randolph got that gig.



In the little town of Fayette, Alabama, there wasn’t much to do. Go to school , go home, or go to an after school tutor of job, athletics practice, go home again,, become tired, eat dinner, go to bed. Some people like to throw showers in between, but my schedule wasn’t flexible. My showers had to stick for morning else I was blown off track, and my sanity fully alleviated. There was no skate parks, local teenager hangouts, or even a Dairy Queen. All we have is KFC/Taco Bell (the same3 building!) and Guthrey Smith Park. , and a lot of other restaurants, part stores, and Wal-mart, which served as our small town mall. Did I mention about twelve churches?



I lived in Rich Folk Land, as Dex and Annie called it. I ‘m not rich, but the house I live in isn’t exactly low class either. We paid big money to buy this house. Which reminds me. Where are Dex and Annie? They usually meet me at Movie Gallery, then we walk to school. Across the four lane. In morning traffic. Playing Frogger, is probably a better phrase that walking to school. We don’t have people who direct Fayette rush minute. We basically fend for ourselves.