Chapter Notes: Ava-Rain's POV

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- 'Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. . .' -

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     The annoying sound of my phone alarm blared in my ears, pulling me out of my sleep and away from my dream. After silencing it, I flipped over onto my back and allowed my eyes to close, even though I already knew that unconsciousness was long gone and all hope of returning to him had been lost. For months, my dream—or rather the dream—had always been the same, and for months, I had been slowly losing my sanity trying to decipher what it meant. If it meant anything at all.

          It had always started the same, with me running away from something or someone inside of a forest. It always took place at night. I could hear the wind in my ears as I ran, and the cries that emerged from the earth with each stomp of my feet were the only sounds to be heard in the otherwise silent forest. The only thing I could see was whatever the moonlight had permitted and my only source of companionship was the down pour of rain. As I ran, the only sense of comfort had been the burning adrenaline flowing through my veins. It provided the capabilities of pushing me harder and faster, but I knew that whatever it was that I had been running from would not be deterred for very long. Whatever it was that had always remained hidden in the shadows and cloaked by the darkness was determined to catch me. I felt it, felt it stronger than I ever thought possible you could feel something in a dream.

      I ran in the same direction every time and continued running until I reached a clearing in the forest. Once there, all of my fear and anguish would disappear and the threat of whatever it was that had been stalking me seemed to have vanished. With only one look at the black wolf inside of the clearing, illuminated by the moonlight like a beacon of hope and refuge, I knew that I was safe, knew that I no longer had to run because in there darkness held no power.

     But last night's dream had been different. For as long a I can remember, the big, black wolf had always remained the same. Its thick, shiny fur, it's amber eyes and enormous build never changed. Not even in the slightest. I had deemed it my protector, my hope, my light. Yet, that time—for the first time—when I reached the clearing, I had not been greeted by my wolf but by the guy I had met at the club from the night before.

     That stupid club.

     I forced open my eyes as the previous night's events replayed over and over in my head. It certainly had not been my idea to go because clubbing wasn't exactly my scene. My best friend, Kasey, and I had been guilted into going by our other best friend, Jennifer, who had always been good at getting what she wanted if she whined and begged long enough. Because Kasey was set to leave for her annual summer trek up to her family cottage, Jennifer felt the need to remind us that it would be the last time all three of us would be able to hang out together for a while. Had we not gone, she would have thrown one of her infamous fits and tortured us with a ridiculous rant about how we never had time for her, then followed up with a two week protest of silence. To save ourselves from the ritual, Kasey and I had gone.

     Apparently, it had been her boyfriend's birthday or her boyfriend's brother's birthday. The confirmation Kasey and I hoped to have received never happened because we had not seen Jennifer or her stranger boyfriend the entire night, which was completely and totally fine with us. We had grown accustomed to princess Jennifer and her ridiculous ways, but our loyalty to our childhood friend always managed to force forgiveness out of us and led our way back to her. Past wrongs were always forgiven, no matter how badly she sometimes treated us. It was more than she deserved, but if it were not for her ability to stop herself before pushing us past our limits, she would have been on her own a long time ago. As unhealthy and dysfunctional our relationship appeared to be, everyone had a friend like Jennifer. . .right?

     At least Kasey had managed to escape the drama by attending university in British Columbia. As much as I missed having my BBF—my better best friend—I was happy that she was following her dreams and doing something that she loved. But it certainly did not hurt that she had returned for summer vacation. Kasey truly was the sister I wish I had. Even when we were kids, she had always had my back. She was the only person, other than Jennifer, who had known everything about me and my life, the good and the bad. We knew each other's secrets, and many, if not all, of my happiest memories were created with Kasey.

     Sure, the past year had been hard. I did not have my best friend within physical reach, wasn't able to run over to her house when I needed an escape. But what made everything better was knowing that she was happy. Her happiness and my own were synonymous. I couldn't depend on Kasey forever. I knew that. She was starting to build her own life in BC, and as much as I hated to even think it—let alone entertain the idea—I sensed that it was only a matter of time before Kasey stopped visiting all together. Before she grew tired of protecting me. In the back of my mind, I guess I sort of always assumed that one day she would decide that she had enough, and that would be okay. It would have to be. However, until then, I was going to hold onto my best friend while I still could.

     Pulling myself away from those depressing thoughts, instead I allowed myself to indulge in one last remembrance of the face that belonged to the stranger that had managed to work his way into my dreams. The perfection within his ridiculously handsome features; the beauty trapped inside of his gray eyes-the colour I was only able to make out when we had somehow inched our bodies closer to one another; his perfect heart-shaped mouth and his innate ability to make the feminine quality look anything but feminine. One final memory before I discarded it down into the deepest parts of my memory, where it would hopefully stay and never resurface. Because, let's face it, wolves and mysterious, gorgeous boys will both tear you to shreds.

     "And if they failed to get the job done, Kasey surely would," I chuckled to myself as I forced myself to get out of bed.

      After my encounter with Mr. Mysterious, Kasey had pounced on me, dragged me out of the club, warned me to stay away from him and insisted that I forget about him. Of course, I knew that it was just Kasey being protective as always, and-as always-I did not fight her on the subject. Meeting random strangers at a club was not something I tended to go out of my way to do. But clearly forgetting him was not going to be as easy as I expected if last night's dream was any indication, nor would forgetting the way he looked at me. The way he turned me into complete mush with a simple touch like some love-struck school girl. The way his very presence had drawn me to him. It was a ridiculous thought to even think, let alone believe, but it was as if-in the short amount of time in each other's presence-he had invaded me completely from the inside out. As crazy as it sounds, it was like he had awakened something within me, or perhaps just simply awakened me.

     Crazy, right?

     I shook my head—as if that would have somehow made the thoughts disappear—pulled myself together and focused on the day ahead. I took a quick shower, got dressed and quickly scanned over myself in my closet mirror before I left my bedroom and headed downstairs. For the first time in a couple of months, I had the weekend off from my luxurious part time job at a local grocery story, and the last place I would ever want to spend my day off was at home.

     With my grandmother.

     As I descended the stairs, I heard the sound of the television and already knew that she must have been watching one of her game shows. Typically, if I had the day off or was not suppose to start work until late in the after noon and had absolutely no where to go, I would have stayed upstairs. The door would have been shut and locked, and the outside world completely drowned out by the sounds of Nightwish or Halestorm, heck, anything that was loud enough to get the job done. Up there, I was safe. Safe from the rants, the arguments, the silence derived from being ignored. But once I left my haven, I was basically in her territory, a trespasser who had to be dealt with through any means necessary.

     Fortunately, yet unfortunately, that day I had plans. And as much as I would have liked to have just headed straight for the front door and escape as silently as possible, the woman had spidey senses. And giving her another reason to express how much of an ungrateful granddaughter I was and how I lacked manners was not particularly on the day's itinerary.

     Get in. Get out. Don't look back. The three rules I needed to remember in order to survive behind enemy lines.

     Strategically, I walked into the kitchen first, not just because I had to pass it before reaching the living room but because it was best to grab something to eat now rather than later. If the next few minutes were to go down exactly how I knew they would, then I would only thank myself later. I always did.

     Get in.

     I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on top of the kitchen table, took a deep breath and made my way towards the living room. The sound of Steve Harvey's voice and applause filled the room as I entered. Family Feud. I glanced at the flat screen on the wall, then slowly—and I mean slowly—looked towards my grandmother, Gladys Washington. Her black hair, which was gradually turning grey—which, I'm sure, could have only been my fault—was perfectly pinned up into a high bun. Although it was a Saturday-and eight o'clock in the morning-and she had no where to be for at least four more hours-and mid Spring with exceptionally nice weather-she was wearing an all black pant suit, complete with four inch heals. A walking, talking, breathing, living contradiction. Heaven forbid one of the neighbours stopped by unannounced to see her wearing an ensemble under two hundred bucks. Appearances were everything to Gladys Washington, and as much as I knew she would have loved to be seen without me on the rare occasions we went out together in public, it proved much more beneficial to her status as a loving and cherishing grandmother to be seen with me.

     I leaned against the frame of the entry way and folded my arms across my chest. "Good morning." I counted down from seven in my head. It always took her seven seconds at most to respond.

     "And where exactly are you headed at eight o'clock in the morning?" It took her another five seconds to actually pull her eyes away from the television to look at me, and another five to confirm her suspicions with the perusal of her gaze that I most certainly was not headed to work.

     "I have the weekend off from work. Thought I'd go visit mom and dad." I quickly glanced at the floor, not wanting to see the eye-roll I knew I would have witnessed had I not looked away. "Do you want to come with me?" Even before the words had left my mouth, I knew what her response would be. An excuse, because there was always something that would come up whenever I made the offer.

     "I'm expecting Diana Woodbridge any minute. Not all of us can cancel plans as easily as others."

     I smirked and shook my head. I knew that less-than-subtle jab was obviously directed at me. When I announced that I wanted to take a year off after high school before going off to college or university, hell would have been a nicer and more welcomed summer vacation compared to what I had to endure for three months after graduation a year ago.

     Get out.

     "Okay, well, I'm off. I'll be home later." I turned and headed out as quickly as possible, grabbing my keys and bag off of the foyer table on my way out.

     Don't look back.

     It was pretty early in the day, but the sun was shining as bright as the May weather would allow. The wind was nothing more than a whisper, and if, for whatever reason, you actually had the desire to listen to it closely, you would have been rewarded by its comforting kiss. By the time I reached the end of the driveway, I had already retrieved my iPod from my bag, popped the headphones into my ears and navigated through my playlists before landing on theirs. It did not take very long—probably half an hour, at most—before I reached my destination, but the comfort the music had provided made the journey seem much shorter.

     I ventured over the sea of green, my eyes already fixed on their targets. Every couple of steps, splashes of colour harassed my peripheral vision but the beautiful mix of floral scents in the air demanded my undivided attention. I inhaled deeply, wanting nothing more than their comforting aromas to fill me right down to the core. The dark and dreary feeling I'm sure I should have felt, I did not feel at all. Instead, I felt warm. And it wasn't the warmth from the sun nor from the light cardigan I was wearing, but the kind you felt when consumed by love. The kind that filled you from head to toe, entirely and completely.

     I pulled the earphones from my ears, shut off my iPod and stuffed it into my bag as I came face to face with the tombstones of Angela and Robert Tolbert. I knelt before them and ran my fingers over the stone. For as long as I could remember, I always made sure to trace the letters of their names, a ritual that had been started when I was four and maintained ever since. With my finger on the first letter, I would close my eyes and trace their names, memorizing each and every curve, the space between the letters. And as I did that, I would will myself to remember their faces. I guess that must sound sort of silly, but I thought that it was the only way to make sure that I would never forget them. That I would never forget their faces so long as I remembered them.

     "Hi mom. Hi dad."

     As I always did whenever I visited their graves, I filled them in on everything that had happened since my last visit, although that time I had not been as enthusiastic. In all honesty, over the past couple of months, every trip to the cemetery seemed to be void of any real enthusiasm. My visits had become less enjoyable. When I was a kid, I loved visiting the cemetery, had even listed it as my number one, all time 'favourite place in the world' in an assignment back in first grade. Every month when my grandmother would bring me, I had always been too excited to cry. It was my escape, the only place in the world where I felt I belonged. And when I got old enough to go on my own, I would stay for hours just rambling about anything and everything.

     But now I felt like I was becoming disconnected to them, that no amount of silly rituals like trying to remember their faces or the insignificant spaces between the letters of their names on their headstones could repair the connection that had broken a long time ago. Even if it was that same decomposing connection that kept me coming back.

      I was angry. I was hurt. I felt betrayed. But most of all, I felt hatred. I hated them but not as much as I hated myself for hating them. I hated them for leaving me. For dying. And as irrational, as unjustifiable and unfairly misplaced my hatred was towards them, it seemed to rationally justify itself every time I looked into my grandmother's eyes. I knew their deaths was not their fault but the fault of a drunk driver, but the anger, the unhealthy, evolving anger that had been growing inside for a very long time was only now beginning to suffocate me, and my only shot at survival came in the form of resentment.

     It was as if I had to hate them in order to love them. I had to throw myself in the darkness and sink deeper and deeper until I hit the bottom because once there, the only place left to go was up. I had to resent them and allow myself to be consumed by my anger in order to forgive them. To forgive myself. And even if I was able to forgive myself, I knew that no amount of that forgiveness would ever take away the crippling effects of shame because it was already infused inside of my soul.

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     I trotted my way through the the unruly forest just behind my grandmother's house,  maneuvered my way through the fallen trees, swatted at branches, all the while maintaining to keep my presence unbeknownst to the wildlife life, who ensured their survival by keeping themselves cloaked underneath nature's protective embrace.

     Alright, maybe my little escapade was not as thrilling as that. Maybe the forest was actually a sort of back yard forest—or massive clump of trees—just off the land behind the neighbourhood I lived in and void of any real wild life or any life other than birds, squirrels and insects. Maybe the fallen trees were actually just broken branches, casualties left behind from the wrath of spring and her thunderstorms. All in all, that forest was probably as scary and deathly terrifying as a Scottish Fold kitten.

     It was a place that I had always escaped to since I was little and had earned a spot on that same first grade 'favourite places' list. I couldn't even tell you how many days and nights were spent there, how many sunrises and sunsets had been witnessed in the forest with Kasey and Jennifer. It was our place. A place that inhabited our laughter, contained our secrets and disposed of our tears. A place that sort of strengthened our friendship, maybe even defined it at times. The three of us had not been there together for years. I guess you can say that we had simply outgrown it, but I think the truth of the matter was that, even if not completely or entirely, we had sort of outgrown the people that we were back then, the kids that we used to be. And didn't it just totally suck once you realized that you could not stay young forever?

     I ventured in a bit further than I normally would have. I hadn't even planned on making a trip to the forest but I think my sanity had threatened to rage a full on war if I didn't comply with its terms of restoration. I had left the cemetery a complete mess, feeling ridiculous for where my thoughts and feelings had taken me and allowing them to drag me through the dirty grounds of misery and self-pity. But if there was one place that still held true to its promise of comfort, it was that forest. When I deemed that I was in far enough, I laid down on a small patch of grass and stared up at the sky. I popped my headphones back in and allowed my iPod to comfort be in the best way that it could: with an offering of unconsciousness.

     I watched the scarce bundle of clouds as they changed their forms every couple of minutes before allowing myself to succumb to the gentle tug of unconsciousness. My eyes closed and soon the music became nothing more than background noise as my thoughts and feelings danced around inside of my head. With every kick of sadness, a trail of blue painted the walls of my eye lids. Although I had tried to suppress my earlier anger as best as I could, the flickers of red had joined the blue, guiding it like a beacon. Soon, my conflicting thoughts along with my never-ending guilt showed their yellow and green heads easily fell into step and happily trailed behind their leaders. I tried to enjoy the show and all of its beauty for as long as possible, but it wasn't long before the darkness, as always, extinguished the lights.

     I awoke to a slight chill and was prepared to pull my bed sheets up to my neck when I remembered that I was not in my bed but, in fact, still laying on a bed of grass. It did take another second or two for the impact that it was night to hit, and once it did, I sprung up and quickly gathered my things. I picked up my long deceased iPod and pulled the headphones from my ears before shoving them in my bag. I took out my phone and hit a button to light it up. The time on the screen staring back at me showed that I had been out for almost five hours. Below the time was an alert that I had ten missed calls. I had assumed they were all probably from Kasey, who had probably arrived at her cottage and was now entirely shut off from the outside world. I checked them anyway, deluded by my hope that maybe, just maybe, one of them was from my grandmother. But that hope had been short lived once I unlocked my phone and browsed through the list of missed calls.

     Well, who was I kidding? Other than myself, that is.

     Just as I was going to call Kasey, hoping that she still had a connection while trying to come up with the best excuse as to why I had not answered, the sound of breaking branches gained my attention instead. I glanced up for only a second, already convinced that it must have been a squirrel or something before refocusing my attention back to my phone.

     I never really considered myself stupid, you know, like those girls in those scary movies. The ones who always yelled out into the darkness instead of hiding and staying quiet like any normal and sane person would have done. And because I was not stupid, I knew that the chances of a killer being in our secluded forest was unlikely. Just as I knew that memorizing every path, every bend in the woods, every trail, every short-cut and every inch of this forest would never go in vain if the need to escape ever arose. But smart people did not fall asleep in forests by themselves, right? Smart people did not leave themselves vulnerable. Smart people did not easily give into paranoia. . .right?

     I glanced around again and clutched my phone tightly in my hand before making a break to leave. But before I could take a step, the sound of what I can only describe as a growl kept me rooted in place. Again, my eyes darted in every direction of the woods. I did not know if I should have been glad or even more worried that I had not seen anything. Perhaps my exhaustion was playing tricks on me? Cruel and scary jokes?

     Forcing my feet to move, I managed to take a couple of steps when a faint glow of amber dots appeared in the darkness, causing my heart beat to increase dramatically. I thought maybe it was just my imagination, that I had allowed my paranoia to get the better of me. I had even closed and reopened my eyes to confirm my temporary moment of insanity, but the only thing that accomplished was bringing the amber dots closer and made them glow brighter. And within seconds, out of the darkness emerged a huge wolf. It entered the clearing slowly, its eyes staring directly at me and its dark fur blowing in the slight breeze. I was immediately taken aback by its beauty and almost convinced myself that my fear was unreasonable. How could I be frightened of something so beautiful?

     What the hell was a wolf doing in the secluded backyard forest? Better yet, what the hell was I doing standing in that backyard forest, standing face to face with a wolf and two seconds away from asking if it wanted to dance?

     The wolf, who had not moved so much as an inch, kept its eyes pinned on me. Very slowly, I took a step back. But if the low growl that escaped the wolf was any indication, he had not been very pleased with my manners. The light on my phone decided in that moment to fade to black and I knew that it was all over then. The wolf, who had been as still as a statue, broke into a run.

     In that instant, even though fear had filled me to my fingertips, I felt an urge of adrenaline flood its way through my veins. I hit a button on my phone, which caused the light to reappear, and threw it in the direction of the wolf, hoping that it would distract it for even the slightest second. Before I could even see just where exactly my phone landed, I turned and made a run for the other end of the forest. I kept my eyes wide open, kept my destination within my sights and simply ran as fast as I could. Just as I was about to exit the clearing and enter back into the mass of trees—the place that had been my shelter and playground for so many years—a sharp pain jolted up my right leg and I felt myself being pulled down to the ground and dragged backwards.

     When I hit the ground, I finally understood what it meant to have the wind knocked out of you, and let me tell you, it was not a good feeling. Instinctively, my hands shot up to my head and neck, shielding it from the wolf. I heard its every breath, its every terrifying growl. I felt every scratch as its paws tore at my skin and prepared myself for the bites that I was sure would soon follow.

     I'm sure that I should have been crying, should have been screaming or yelling and doing everything that only would have ended up being completely pointless. But I had done none of those things. My heart was still pounding rapidly and the adrenaline was still pumping throughout my body right alongside my fear. But I had not felt any pain. I shoved and kicked, hoping to connect my hands or feet somewhere on the wolf that would have caused it to stop long enough for me to get away, but it seemed to have figured out my plans because it had pressed itself down on top of me, crushing me with its weight as if to remind me that I was nothing compared to it. Nothing.

     With its teeth barred, it looked down at me. 'Enough is enough', I could only assume it would have said in that moment, you know, if wolves could talk. I saw the flicker of a decision flash within its eyes: it was time for me to die. Clearly, its mother had taught it not to play with its food. . .for too long.

     I felt the adrenaline as it slowly receded. Although I was grateful for its aid in my rescue, it was always going to be a battle that I was not going to win. My arms and legs stilled, the energy to fight no longer there. I don't really like to say that I was giving up, more like accepting my fate. Accepting the only true escape from my life that I was ever offered.

      With no other choice but to stare death in its eyes, I looked deep into the amber pools of death and searched for my peace within the wolf's gaze. When I felt the sting of tears, it was only then that I turned my head to the side, embarrassed by my own display of weakness. As I felt their burning caress trailing down my face, I closed my eyes and waited for the wolf's teeth to pierce through my skin. But when I felt it's heavy body move to attack, I hadn't felt an ounce of pain, only the release of the crushing pressure on top of me.

     And then I had not felt anything.