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Hush, Howl {24}

The ride home was quick. Rosy remained silent, allowing the music blaring from the radio to overcome the thickness of the silence that might've probably occurred. Daniel was following us closely in his car as we traveled back home. The voice of Christina Perry kept me preoccupied as I sang her song mentally along with the music.

"The whole . . . supernatural thing," Rosy blurted, her fingers drumming at the steering wheel. "I don't know how much I can handle."

I gave her a wry but encouraging smile. Using my sign language, I spoke as she began watching my actions carefully. "Don't worry. Everything will be alright. Let's just let the boys do whatever they are about to do. They're doing this for our own sake."

She sighed, "Yeah, I know. They're doing this for our own protection, yadda, yadda. But can't you see what we are getting ourselves into?" she rambled, her hands moving according to her emotions—which maybe is currently frustrated and scared. The tone of her voice made it obvious. She glanced briefly at the road and looked back at me again.

"You need to start seeing the bigger picture Rosy. You always refuse to accept the truth. Be open-minded, it'll be easier." I advised.

She took a sharp breath and focused back on the road.

The conversation was cut short. Rosy decided to keep herself quiet until we reached the house.

As we pulled up, Rosy and I disembarked the car. The house was eerily quiet. Normally, Aunt Farris would be busy cooking with the radio blaring in the living room. Either that or she’s out on a simple call for work. So as soon as we stepped up onto the front porch, I spotted Daniel fiddling with the keypad of his phone. There was a beep, and then he closed it instantly.

"I forgot my keys," Rosy quipped as she stepped aside and gestured for the keyhole. "Can you use yours?"

I don't get it. Why would it be locked during the day? Aunt Farris kept it open at all costs, but gave us spare keys so that we can enter if ever she leaves due to an emergency and locks the door with us out.

I looked suspiciously at her and pulled my own spare keys from the pocket of my coat. I fumbled through the lock and twisted it until I heard a click. Pulling the knob open, I was greeted by a dark living room. With my hands flying towards the room, I flipped the switch open. 

Light beamed through the room.

"Surprise!" Trumpets blared in my ears followed by a chorus of voices. A banner fell from the wall and greeted a 'Happy 17th Birthday, Sapphire!'

Memories from my sixth birthday rushed through my brain. Instead of seeing this people currently standing before me, I saw my mother and father holding out a cake with six lit candles. They are happily singing a wild chorus of the Happy Birthday song with party hats on top of their head.

Tears brimmed in my eyes. The memory was so painful to remember, my throat suddenly felt tight. My eyes were starting to well up with tears. My chest heaved as I let out a quiet sob. So, not willing to show anyone my emotion, I ran straight to the back door and bolted out into the forest, willing to be alone.

Why don't those memories just go away? The memory of my parents occupy a sore spot, that even if I don't want to remember, pries into my mind . . . just to show me what I've lost.

Why do I have to cry over this? Get over them, Sapphire! Get over them! They'll probably want you to be happy right now! Not mourning over their death!

I entered the forest, sobbing quietly.

Get over them, Sapphire!

The voice echoed in my mind like someone trying to get the words inside my head.

But the guilt from my parents' death seemed too intense that it overcomes the tempting encouragement. The voice was replaced by screeching tires, my begging screams and my mother's last words.

My fingers flew to my neck, where the necklace that my mother gave me was located. The pendant dangled, faint chiming noises followed.

I sat down my usual spot, the old tree stump and bawled. My eyes continued to well tears. I sniffed.

I didn't know how much time I spent crying, but the next thing I knew, I heard footsteps on top of the thick layer of snow. The sounds stop, followed by a familiar voice. "Saf?"

It was Darren, I know it.

I shifted uncomfortably from my seat and ducked my face away from his gaze. I don't want him seeing me like this.

"Saf, please."

I ignored him.

"I know about your parents," He blurted, suddenly standing beside me. "Rosy told me."

Now, I'm really getting a little bit angry at Rosy for telling him.

"Listen, you have to get over their deaths, Sapphire. It isn't your fault. They died because of an accident, they didn't die because of you." His words were undeniably soothing, a tone showing care and tenderness.

"Saf," He swept aside my hair, caressing my neck. I shuddered involuntarily. His touch was warm, despite of the cold weather. I guess being a werewolf got its perks. He isn't wearing knitted hand wears or anything to keep him warm. He is warm.

"Wherever they are, they'll want you to be happy." He took my hands in his. "You can't forever live in the past. Can't you see? We're all here for you." He placed a finger under my chin and forced me to look into his mesmerizing silver eyes. "I'm here for you." He muttered, before his gaze dropped and he reached out for something behind his back.

He pulled the object out of his jacket, a silver glint catching my eye at the undeniably familiar sight. He grabbed my fingers and pried them open, laying the long, silver instrument in my palm. I looked up at his eyes with my teary ones, curious and shocked on how he managed to get this. I left it in my room . . .

I don't know why. But he's presence always made me feel comfortable and protected. His touch was always gentle, tender...caring. He makes me feel like I'm...loved. The last time I ever felt this way was before my parents died. Yet, I was blinded by the past that I did not recognize all the efforts of everybody to make me feel like I have before.

Darren.

He's been trying to open my eyes. Take me out of the darkness that held me, the guilt that I felt was washed off from all his reassurance. He was the one who made me feel complete again. Mended my broken heart. Filled the void that was once abandoned by my parents.

That was the last thing I thought before I felt his soft lips landing on mine. My breath was caught on my throat.

After the shock I felt passed, I found myself responding. His kiss wasn't forceful or urgent, but it only portrayed how caring and gentle he is. His lips were full and supple, sweet and satisfying unlike my chapped ones.

I always dreamed of the day of my first kiss. Now, I think it's coming true. Darren was unlike any other man that I've met before. He was sincere about the way he feels, true and honest. Protective and comforting, at the same time, full of hope and reassurance.

Whether if I want to admit it or not. There is one true fact that I cannot deny.

I've fallen for him.

My heart hammered inside my chest like a runner's feet striding across the tracks. I know it, and I'm certain.

Despite of the whole week without his presence, only texts through the phone that still assured me he's there.

How cliché can my life can be?

THE AVES

To clear everything up...

THE AVES are creatures with the ability to shape-shift into forms of gigantic birds--the average human size. They are blessed with the power of flight and also the capability of using their wings without fully shifting to their other forms.

There are many kinds of Aves: One are the Eagles, which are on the top. Born as leaders of the flock. If not, one may be tasked for a higher position in the society, for only Eagle-shifters are of pure power and royal blood.

Two, are the Falcons, average birds but blessed with fast-flying. They are ideal for hunting, and is mostly tasked with the same position. Hunters of the pack as they are commonly known.

Three, are the Hawks. One of the raptors or the second highest forms of birds in the society.

Aves are unlike any other supernatural creatures that lives among us. They live through soaring the sky, in the air, but tribes on top of mountains or deep in the forest. Modern Aves lives among the humans but own their own territory to be able to shape-shift to their other forms.

If packs refer to werewolves, the term for the Aves are called flocks--since they are birds after all.