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Bitch (Awakening of a Werewolf)

I was never happy at home, but I didn't know just how out of place I was there until I met BigGuy. I first saw him the day after my fifteenth birthday. He came out of the woods bordering our property and just sat there in the shade under the trees. Whenever I would look out my window, he would be there, staring right back at me, just watching. The following night, he was there again. And the next.

I took to calling him BigGuy, due to his large size. My father dismissed him as a stray; there were many of them around, making a living hunting out in the woodlands that ran for miles just beyond our property line. A whole pack could live out there for years without ever being seen, but they might come into town occasionally to raid garbage or snatch up pets. Mother told me he was probably filthy and could even be a wolf, but got into an argument with my father about wolves not coming this close to civilization.

During the day, I would watch out for him, but he would only come out at night. He always seemed to know when I was watching for him, because he wouldn't appear until I walked away from the window and came back. Then he would be sitting there, looking right at me...into me. I became fascinated with wolves and dog-packs. For the first time in my life, I convinced my parents to take me to the library and began reading everything I could about canines and their social hierarchy. The Alphas, and their mates. The more I read, the more I felt something awakening inside me. I would fret and fidget all day and stay up late into the night watching out for BigGuy. Once he appeared, we would gaze at each other for what felt like minutes, yet hours flew by. Every contour of his tall, stoic body burned itself into my memory. Whenever I would close my eyes, I would see his staring back at me from behind my eyelids.

I withdrew from everything else in my normal life. I had already given up on school, and my parents were too busy fighting with each other over the divorce to care much about what I did during the day. I spent more and more time alone. Things like casual friends and music, that had felt so important before, now seemed absurd and petty. All they did was play to the fantasy called civilization that we had built around ourselves. The connection I felt for the dog became more real than the connection I felt toward the family I lived with. When my mother would barge in to tell me to turn my light off and go to sleep, I would look at her like I didn't recognize her. Suddenly my original family seemed completely alien, and the more detached I became to them, the more I yearned to be with my four-legged guardian.

I absorbed everything I could about canines, and through all of it was a word that resounded through me. I went to see a guy I knew about who did tattoos and had him put it into my skin, yet the pain of the needle still didn't sate the burning I felt inside.

I stopped going out altogether and started sleeping during the day, spending the nights gazing out the window at my watchful canine sentinel. My old parents would wake me up during the day to yell and scream at me, but I wouldn't hear any of it; it was as if I had stopped acknowledging their type of speech, and I would go back to waiting for my nocturnal keeper.

Then came the first full moon since my birthday. I couldn't focus on anything even remotely "normal". When I opened a book, the printed text just didn't translate into words. I tried to lay on the bed, but would rather curl up on the floor under it. I wanted to run - run fast, but not on my hind legs alone. I didn't want to wear boots - I wanted to feel the grass under my paws and the night air in my fur.

Suddenly, without consciously knowing why, I jumped eagerly to the window, my trained eyes going straight to the edges of the lawn. And there He was. The moonlight lit His dark grey fur with silver light, seeming to create an aura around Him against the backdrop of the dark woods. His piercing eyes locked with mine, and I stared transfixed, feeling every muscle in my body quiver with tension. With deliberate suddenness, He stood to his feet, His eyes never leaving mine. My body ceased as if all my joints had frozen together at once. I could feel myself sweating, my fingers gripping the sill with all their might, my body like a coiled spring. With a slow, purposeful movement, He turned his body back toward the woods, looking over His shoulder at me as if waiting.

All at once, my muscles unlocked and all the quivering energy in me was released in a wild outburst. I threw open the window and leapt outside onto the cool grass. As I rushed out across the lawn to Him, He turned unhurriedly into the trees while I came loping up to follow. As I passed under the shadow of the dark, but inviting trees, I thought I heard a voice calling shrilly from the house, but I didn't recognize the words.

How He knew, I can't say, but He knew all along that I was meant to be part of the pack. As I knelt before Him for the first time, my mouth opened reflexively, my small tongue lolling out as He stood over me. His own broad tongue dipped down into my welcoming mouth, His touch an affirmation of my existence, and His baring a confirmation of my roll in the pack.

I knew now what I was, and where I belonged. As my Alpha welcomed me, the rest of my new family came out to greet me.