Time heals all wounds... or so they say. Bruises, scars, limbs of an amputated nature; they all heal enough for you to carry on with your life. But who are 'they' who say these things? I'd like to give them a piece of my mind. To me, time doesn't take away the memories or the remnants of your deformed skin. It's not healed if all you do is try to pretend nothing happened. You have to live knowing your body isn't normal anymore and neither is your mind. You're stuck forever with the knowledge that you were stupid enough to fall or too weak to save yourself from that scar.

Or even that you've taken a life.

~

I was to hold the fort that night. Uncle David finally took my advice in heading to the bar to watch a football game. He didn't have many days where having the night off was a possibility, but once a month he promised to leave the house. I felt so proud that he trusted me alone. It's not that I would have a wild party -I have a house full of animals to attend to- but it was nice he believed I could handle it.

I looked through the window at the full moon and sighed. It was a clear night and I desperately wanted to be out dancing in the crisp autumn leaves. But homework took precedent and after that I had to feed the pets. We lived in a house caring for injured animals before releasing them back into the wild. I had responsibilities to carry out so there would be no fooling around that night.

Returning my gaze to the scribbled lines of my essay, my dry blonde hair fell over my eyes again. American History was never my strong suit and it bored me out of my mind. There's only so many times I can hear about another old man who 'paved the way'. I took a sip of fruit punch and continued the paper.

That's when I heard it. The creaks in the floorboards downstairs weren't the normal creaks from the settling house. It was too timed, too steady. Like a tip-toeing pace. I turned to the pup asleep on my bed beside my desk. If it wasn't him then something else got out of its cage. I sighed and woke my Husky-German Shepherd mix with a gentle prod. Tarzan stirred, sniffing the air at once and growling softly. He was too well trained to bark but I could tell in the way his ears lowered that something wasn't right. I sighed again and turned my desk light off. Someone downstairs got out again.

Tarzan ran ahead of me as I got the spray bottle and baseball bat. The wild ones were supposed to stay in the roomy basement since they didn't know the difference between a helping hand and a cruel pen. I cautiously took the backstairs down to the kitchen and followed the sound. Whoever it was, they didn't want to go back behind their bars.

"Come on," I said aloud to calm the poor beast down. People say my voice has a way with animals but really it's the fact I don't fear them nor intimidate them. I have, what Uncle David calls it, an organic soul. I flicked the kitchen light on and searched around the table. "Dinner will be served soon. Time to get back to your cage. Come on out, I'm not going to hurt you."

"No?" My heart sank as I heard that man's voice. Tarzan bared his teeth since we both knew I was supposed to be the only human in the house. My breath hitched as the intruder stepped in from the kitchen doorway and into the light. "But what if I hurt you?"

His toothy grin spread on his lips. He didn't bother hiding his face, something I found more disturbing than the gleaming kitchen knife in his right hand. His black beard was grown out with strips of grey in between as was his shoulder length locks. I backed into the cupboards behind me, swearing in my mind for letting Uncle David leave me alone. My dog snarled, ready to attack.

"You're wrong about that one thing though," he said with a malicious laugh. "I'm not going back to that cage. Not now, not ever."

My eyes widened as he lunged forward. It was lucky I had enough instinct to run and grab the back door's keys from the counter. The spray bottle crashed to the kitchen floor. Tarzan jumped at the sound but my loyal dog gave me enough time to run as he snapped at the man. For the first time in a long while I heard his aggressive bark. But the intruder was quicker, kicking my dog into the kitchen cupboard. I paused as his little whimper broke my heart.

Tarzan laid there in pain. I glanced back from him to the shaking keys in my hand. Of all nights I remembered to lock the back door, it had to be that one. The man drew nearer forcing me to abandon the hope of escaping to the woods. We lived on the border of Hìtwike Park, away from other cabins meaning no one would be able to hear me scream. If I could make it outside, I knew I'd be able to lose him in the forest I knew so well.

I never made it outside.

The man chased me through the house, finally catching me up at the dining room table. I still clutched to the baseball bat with dear life, regretting my choice of running there. We were at opposite sides of the table which made a barrier but a terrible one. He faked right, I almost ran right. He lunged to the left, I flinched to that side. We were at an impasse.

"I've got to tell you," he mumbled. His dark eyes glared over at me, looking up and down my pajamas. I covered my thin tank top and shorts as best I could with my arms. It didn't do much good. "You are an amazing sight. The first chick I've seen in quite some time."

"How nice," I tried bantering with him. With a prayer of hope, I grabbed a handful of newspapers and coupons we were cutting earlier from the table and threw them in his direction. He drew back, letting me to run from the corner and toward the front door. His hand reached out for me but I quickly swung the bat around. It was just enough for him to lose his balance and fall.

I ran. The front door was just in reach. I could make it outside and flee to the trees. But the man was faster than I thought. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled back, throwing me to the ground.

"Stop fighting and I'll be gentle," he told me. I wasn't dumb enough to listen. I jabbed him away with the baseball bat, scrambling backward to the front stairway. He was more aggressive than I was. In a swift move, he took the bat from my hands and climbed on top of me.

"You aren't getting out of this, sweetheart," his voice growled. The blade he held caressed my cheek. I sobbed hard, stopping my struggle for a second. "I haven't had any for seven years. Know what that does to a man?"

My hands tried to claw again, refusing to give up the fight. I screamed and kicked with fury. His arms overpowered me easily. I couldn't move, couldn't think. His knife was at my throat and I could barely breathe. The man, frustrated with my resistance, sliced the knife into the skin just above my breasts. All my mind could tell me was that this was it. I am going to die after being violated.

Suddenly, I didn't feel his pressure anymore. Tarzan had limped over and charged at the man, biting furiously at his arm. The prowler cried out but couldn't remove Tarzan's clamped jaw. The knife flew from his hands too far away from him to reach. I took the one instant of release to take the baseball bat in hand.

And I swung.

~

Uncle David came home an hour later. Tarzan was lying beside me, curled up in pain and barely conscious. I took to petting his head, a comfort to me and him. My eyes hadn't left the corpse on the floor with the gash in his skull. The living man cursed and slammed the front door behind him, raking his hands in his receding hair on what he should do.

We couldn't call 911; there was too much for them to find in our house. We had secrets, scary and dangerous secrets. We had lives to protect. Uncle David scooped me up in his arms and carried me to my bed. I barely registered what was going on but as he pulled the covers up to my chin, I began to let loose the storm of sobs inside of me.

"No, no. It's okay," Uncle David whispered into my hair. His chapped lips kissed my forehead as I balled in absolute horror with myself. "No one will ever know. You're safe now."

I stayed in bed as my guardian went back downstairs. He bandaged Tarzan as best he could before he was given back to me. The mutt was left gingerly on his bed in the corner of my room. It wasn't close enough; I owed him too much. I forced my numb limbs out of bed, took my blankets and pillows and slept beside Tarzan. My loyal dog, my loving friend.

The next morning I was told that the intruder was gone, taken out to the woods and several feet under the soil. Uncle David stayed up all night digging a hole deep enough so the animals couldn't smell the rotting flesh. The prowler would never again harm me and no one would ever know the newest of my secrets. We were safe... for now.

That memory stays with me. Sometimes I still wake at night thinking about it, not being able to do anything to change it. It haunts me. I was fifteen years old and I was a murderer. That's the cruel truth and no matter how long time goes on, this wound will never heal.

The bones of the wicked man are buried in my back yard.

.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It may not have werewolf aspects in this chapter but it will be heavily influenced by the lore of werewolves while being meshed with modern day life. I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think! ^^

Pic of Maddie Hasson who 'plays' Kayla on the side as well as Nature Boy by Kerli, a song that will go with the rest of the story. :)