Post by mysteria on Apr 22, 2007 22:32:56 GMT -5
I've always been fascinated with wolves. Don't ask me why; I have no idea. Ever since I was a little kid I've loved them. I even thought I was one for a little while.
No, I didn't think that. I thought I was half wolf, but on the inside, where you couldn't see my fangs, or fur. I called myself Iceberg, "wolf of ice". My two best friends, Korrie and Karol, were in my 'pack' too, but if I remember correctly, we called it our club... the wolf club.
While Karol didn't quite understand it, Korrie and I loved to be wolves; She was 'Fireball', wolf of fire, and, like I said, I was Iceberg. It was kind of cute actually. We would cross our arms like Power Rangers, and throw them down to our sides, saying Iceberg (or in Korrie's case) Fireball, on!
All of the kids that went to our tiny school were in on the game. At recess, we would chase them around the playground, and if we caught one, we would haul them off to the 'cooking pot.' It was lots of fun.
That changed the day my parents were given orders to move to America. I crossed the hedge that divided Karol's and my house, and bounced in, happy to see my Daddy's tan car, and my Mommy's black one, sitting out in the driveway.
"I'm home!" I shouted at the top of my sixteen-year old lungs, slamming the door behind me, delighting at the loud Bang! it made.
I was a little childish back then.
"Hey! How was your day sweetie?" My mom asked, walking down the stairs, my little brother in the crook of her arm.
"It was awesome!" I replied, racing over to give her a hug, no idea what fate had in store for me.
"Hey Mysty!" My dad called from the living room. I ran in to greet him, pausing when I noticed the video tape in his hand.
"What's that?" I said, excitedly, still bouncing up and down.
I had a problem with sugar when I was young.
I still do.
"Sit down." I plopped down on the couch my month old kitten leaping up onto my lap, and watched as he put in the tape, he and my mom coming to sit on either side of me. A movie about California started up. "Mysty..." He said. Something was up. He had that look on his face, the one that told me I wouldn't like what he had to say.
"What?" I questioned, nervous about what was to come.
"The Air-Force wants us to move to California." My mother finished for him.
"What! They want us to leave England! Tell them no!" I bolted from the couch angrily, and began pacing through the room. You couldn't blame me for acting like a spoiled brat. I was to upset (and hyper) to think straight! And they wanted me to leave the place I had grown up!
"We can't." My mother explained, a slightly amused expression on her face.
"Look on the bright side. It will be nice and warm." My dad said, his tone of voice telling me that if I continued, I would end up in my room.
"Whatever." I said, running out of the room to call Karol.
And that was the end of that.
*****
"Bye Mysty..." My friends muttered, the three of us forming a circle.
"Bye guys. I'll miss you." I turned, and walked up onto the plane, tears beginning to fall.
I cried the whole way there.
No, I didn't think that. I thought I was half wolf, but on the inside, where you couldn't see my fangs, or fur. I called myself Iceberg, "wolf of ice". My two best friends, Korrie and Karol, were in my 'pack' too, but if I remember correctly, we called it our club... the wolf club.
While Karol didn't quite understand it, Korrie and I loved to be wolves; She was 'Fireball', wolf of fire, and, like I said, I was Iceberg. It was kind of cute actually. We would cross our arms like Power Rangers, and throw them down to our sides, saying Iceberg (or in Korrie's case) Fireball, on!
All of the kids that went to our tiny school were in on the game. At recess, we would chase them around the playground, and if we caught one, we would haul them off to the 'cooking pot.' It was lots of fun.
That changed the day my parents were given orders to move to America. I crossed the hedge that divided Karol's and my house, and bounced in, happy to see my Daddy's tan car, and my Mommy's black one, sitting out in the driveway.
"I'm home!" I shouted at the top of my sixteen-year old lungs, slamming the door behind me, delighting at the loud Bang! it made.
I was a little childish back then.
"Hey! How was your day sweetie?" My mom asked, walking down the stairs, my little brother in the crook of her arm.
"It was awesome!" I replied, racing over to give her a hug, no idea what fate had in store for me.
"Hey Mysty!" My dad called from the living room. I ran in to greet him, pausing when I noticed the video tape in his hand.
"What's that?" I said, excitedly, still bouncing up and down.
I had a problem with sugar when I was young.
I still do.
"Sit down." I plopped down on the couch my month old kitten leaping up onto my lap, and watched as he put in the tape, he and my mom coming to sit on either side of me. A movie about California started up. "Mysty..." He said. Something was up. He had that look on his face, the one that told me I wouldn't like what he had to say.
"What?" I questioned, nervous about what was to come.
"The Air-Force wants us to move to California." My mother finished for him.
"What! They want us to leave England! Tell them no!" I bolted from the couch angrily, and began pacing through the room. You couldn't blame me for acting like a spoiled brat. I was to upset (and hyper) to think straight! And they wanted me to leave the place I had grown up!
"We can't." My mother explained, a slightly amused expression on her face.
"Look on the bright side. It will be nice and warm." My dad said, his tone of voice telling me that if I continued, I would end up in my room.
"Whatever." I said, running out of the room to call Karol.
And that was the end of that.
*****
"Bye Mysty..." My friends muttered, the three of us forming a circle.
"Bye guys. I'll miss you." I turned, and walked up onto the plane, tears beginning to fall.
I cried the whole way there.