The Night Children

Chapter 2

Edited

I snatched the frozen meat from the freezer and chucked it in the microwave. While the minutes counted down, I glanced out the window, watching as the snowflakes danced in a flurry of movement, twirling on the wind gracefully.

I felt my lips rise into a smile. Winter was beautiful none the less, even if our winter was harsh on those who were too weak to adapt to it. But then the smile fell from my lips, and I remembered the skeletal body of my wolf. He was starving, and I knew from research that he wouldn't last long if he didn't put on weight soon; prey would be scarce.

The beeping of the microwave interrupted my thoughts. I grabbed the heated meat and placed it on a plate. I slipped on my big coat at the door and opened the sliding glass door. Immediately harsh, cold air blew inside causing me to instantly shiver. I fumbled to close the door behind me, my fingers already freezing.

As I slipped on my ugg boots, I saw the white clouds of condensation escape my lips. I walked down the stairs, holding the plate with shaking hands. Reaching the edge of the forest, I squinted against the snowflakes dusting my eyelashes. It would be nearly impossible to find my wolf in this weather, especially because his coat was white.

So instead, I placed the plate on the ground under the shelter of a tree, its leaves protecting the meat from any snow.

After retreating back inside, I collapsed into the lounge room, thankful for the continuous flow of warmth in the house. This winter was forecasted to be one of the longest, deadliest and lethal winters to take a toll on this small town, and I could tell none of us were ready.

I glanced back out the sliding glass doors from my chair, taking in the snow piled ground and bent trees. Winter always felt like a stab in the heart, cutting away at the defences I had created over the years. I used to think that the snowflakes themselves were beautiful, but now as I watched them flitter across the sky, I wondered if they were the same snowflakes that blocked my father's air ways.

Gritting my teeth, I got up to escape into my room. If there was one thing I learnt over the years, it was that I couldn't ever be alone with my thoughts. 

....

I made sure I set my alarm last night especially early this morning. I wanted to see if my wolf had eaten the meat last night before Mum had woken up.

So, clumsily slipping on a knitted jumper and questioning my life choices, I made my way to the kitchen.

Mum was sipping a coffee absently while reading the newspaper. She looked like any normal mother, except I knew the newspaper she was reading. One that marked June 25th 2012. The day my father died.

"Rereading his missing persons case won't make him come back." I said simply, my tone as dead as her gaze. She only looked up, her irises clouded and hazy. I swallowed, realising she wasn't reading the newspaper at all, but only vaguely staring at the headline.

I cleared my throat, causing her to jump slightly. She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts before blinking rapidly.

"I got a call from the school yesterday." She said remotely. I ignored the comment, reaching over to fetch a browning apple from the kitchen counter. Silence stretched between us, and I looked over at her to elaborate but she was staring back into the distance.

I sighed and took a bite of my apple, speaking as I chewed. "Yeah, what did it say?" The old Mum would've scowled me for being so unladylike, but now she only stared at me with glassy eyes.

Blinking again, she went off with a raged voice. "I was told you have to complete ten hours of community service with Miss Anderson."
I nodded silently and continued to eat my apple. There was nothing else to say, Mum was merely stating a fact I already knew.