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this is a short story for school language arts, enjoy!
“I’m open!” I shouted across the field. The ball came to me and I made a goal. The whole team came racing up to me and lifted me up onto their shoulders. I had made the winning goal, which meant that we were going to the finals. I kicked my feet back and fourth happily, but I hit something. Pam now had a bloody nose with blood that was dripping onto her new soccer jersey.
“Oh my gosh! Are you ok?!” I jumped off of my teammates’ shoulders and began stoking her blonde hair to comfort her.
“Never been better,” and she walked off to the nurse’s office. I whipped my long, black hair out of my face in disappointment. My team tried to get me on their shoulders once again, but I refused. The opposing team that had lost was laughing on the sidelines, having their Gatorade. I pushed through my team to my car and drove home. I received a phone call no later than 9:00 pm.
“Pam won’t be on the team anymore,” said a sobbing mother on the phone.
“Why?” I asked. The mother sobbed for a long time, “She died—”
At that moment, questions started to race through my mind: How did she die? She was one of our best players; will we win the state finals? We haven’t lost a single game because of her, will we finally loose? I looked out the window hopefully, but only the whole silver moon shined back.
Then the mother sobbed heavily and I came back to earth. I hung up on the mother and I went to bed, without supper, without brushing my teeth, without a shower, without washing my face, without changing, without Pam.
* * * *
The next morning, I had more soccer practice. I knew that the rest of the team wouldn’t come because of the bad news, so I went anyway. When I arrived at the soccer field, Janet was shooting goals; she was the first one there. Soccer balls were lined up in a row so that she could keep on kicking instead of going back and fourth getting the same ball. She kicked them one by one.
I got out of my car and I saw her face; it was scratched up and blood was dripping, her knees and hands were scraped. “What happened?” I asked.
Janet kicked another ball, “Nothing.”
“I’m serious Janet, what happened to your face?!” I was afraid of losing another teammate. She stopped kicking balls.
“What! The zits or am I just plain ugly?”
“You’re 16 and you look beautiful, hey, look at me.” I was commenting on how well dressed I was, but I really wasn’t, she giggled. “What happened?” I asked once more.
“Why do you really want to know?”
I had to tell Janet, “Pam died.” I said quickly to get it out of my system.
“What!” she screamed.
“Not now,” I looked back and the rest of the team was coming. “What happened?” I turned back to her. “A strange looking wolf attacked me as I was coming here, you know, I bike? I wanted to come early before dawn to get a little extra practice in and—” I glanced down at my watch, “Dawn was at 7:30! It’s 10:00.”
“I know, I know, but—”
“Shhhh!” the rest of the team was in earshot.
During practice, the other teammates noticed Janet’s face and asked. She simply muttered “Nothing”.
That night, I had another phone call. “There couldn’t be another death!” I thought. I heard a different mother, she wasn’t crying, but her voice was trembling, “Both of Janet’s legs have been broken.” The mother said quickly and started to cry. “How did this happen?!” I asked. “We—don’t—exactly—know.” She staggered. “She-was-at-the-movie-with-her-boyfriend-Kevin. You know, the captain on the Black Hawks?”
“Yeah, right, bye!” I hung up in the mother’s next mid-sentence. I know how Pam died, I knew how Janet broke her knees and got those scratches; Kevin wanted to win the state finals and go to national.
I dialed 9-1-1. “Hello?” said a police officer somewhere through the phone. “Hello.” I greeted back. “Waddaya want kid?”
“I know who killed Pam Wellington and broke Janet Forester’s knees!”
“Well, spit it out,” said the police officer rudely.
“Kevin Johnson!” at that moment, the officer busted out laughing.
“What!” I asked in annoyance.
“It’s just—it’s just that Kevin Johnson turned in Pam’s corpse and called for help when Janet’s legs were broken!” and he laughed more.
I hung up on him and ran out the door with my jacket. I put on my jacket as I speed-walked to Janet’s house. It was night, and it was cold. When I got there, up to Janet’s room after greeting the mother that was crying on the phone not too long ago, she looked sheet-white, like a ghost.
“Where does Kevin Johnson live?” I said quickly, still trying to catch my breath. After she had told me like a robot, a ran out of the house with the address repeating in my head. I looked up into the night and there it was, the full silver moon, the only light source in this neighborhood. Then, this crazy idea struck me: what if Kevin was a werewolf?
The question repeated in my head and I forgot the address. The answer fit perfectly: Pam died on a full moon, which means that Kevin could have been one during that time and Kevin wouldn’t know it. Janet got attacked on the same night before dawn and broke her legs tonight on a full moon! It fit perfectly!
Then I heard something snap in the woods beside me. I gasped and I saw that I was right, it was a werewolf. Thick drool oozed from its jaw full of teeth onto the leaves below, beside its long sharp hands, fingers and teeth. I felt half starved just looking at it, it was so skinny you could see the individual ribs in its sides.
It barked and snarled at me. I screamed and ran. I listened to myself and I sounded like a little girl playing with a dog, surely I wouldn’t see help coming. I looked up to the moon and whispered a short prayer and kept running. It chased me around and around the neighborhood. Finally, we went in a big enough circle to get back to the forest where I had met it.
I ran through the woods and there was a drop off down a steep hill. I wasn’t going that fast so I didn’t jump off the edge. I knew that I would have flown if I went too fast. I staggered down the steep hill and found an old bear den. I hid there, hoping it would save my life. The barking of the werewolf wasn’t far, then I heard it whine and it flew across the opening; it had jumped off.
I heard continuous thudding and whining as tumbled down the hill. Then, it was quiet. I waited, for a sign, a sound. Then I drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
“Aaaaaawwwwoooooo!!”
I jumped up immediately and the skinny wolf’s leg was standing at the entrance. The wolf was hoping for me to come out of the den, I could feel it. I kicked the leg as hard as I could as if I was kicking a soccer ball. It whined like before and grabbed my leg. I screamed. It picked me up. Its claws were digging into my sides. I was face-to-face with my nightmare. Its white eyes stared at mine and drool oozed from its jaw again. I could smell its foul breath I was so close and screamed once more as it opened its jaws to crunch on my neck. Then light shined brightly in my eyes. The wolf whined again and ran into the forest behind a tree. Dawn had saved my life.
I stood and lifted up the side of my shirt where four holes on either side were. I felt weary. I staggered up the steep hill to find Kevin, his fingers were covered with blood, a bruise on his fore arm and he was sweaty all over. I took his uninjured arm and swung him around my shoulder. I tried not to touch his hands for the CSI to investigate. I dragged him to the nearest police station and I knew no more.
* * * *
I woke up in a hospital bed where colorful boxes, flowers and balloons were. My sides hurt like someone had hit them all night. Turns out that I had survived a werewolf. Over the few days, I stayed at the hospital, giving blood samples and vomiting.
When I got back home, I got news that Kevin was being held at a mental health center. I went to visit him, but he had no idea what was happening, so I kept it that way. They kept Kevin until the next full moon to see if I was right, and I was. I was known nationwide for fighting, solving and surviving a werewolf attack, and for being a good soccer player. Later in life, I was known for fighting, solving and surviving a werewolf attack, and for being the best soccer player on earth next to Beckham.
The holes on my sides never went away.
 averywind · Fri Nov 16, 2007 @ 12:57am · 0 Comments |
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