Finding Hope
Prologue
Legend says, "Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey".
Papa never told me why this legend was so important to know, but he did tell me that I should never forget it. Said it was something that would make a lot more sense as I matured and reached my late teenage years. I'd always respected his lectures and his words of wisdom; but to be honest, I never really gave them much thought.
Native American tribes such as mine, the Athabascans, they always believed the past lectures of our ancestors held the solutions for future generational problems. If ever we faced an issue that we could not seem to resolve, we should seek refuge in the wisdom of those that have lived before us.
I never thought I'd get to a point where I'd ask them. Where I'd beg for someone to help me; for someone to guide me in the right direction. Hell, I don't even know if they'd listen to me, or if they'd even try to help at all. I mean, it's not like my blood is compatible with theirs... it's never been.
Everything I ever thought I was, no longer is. Everything I thought I knew about myself and my family is now a complete blur. It's like the world is spinning all around me, and I am stuck in the middle… screaming at the bright full moon, pressured to choose which direction I shall follow.
I'm lost and confused, and hurt. I don't understand how I couldn't have known, why it never hit me? All those feelings of solitude, those feelings of being different, the emptiness I'd feel when I'd stair out at the moon lit sky; how did I not recognize the signs?
My family, or the people I thought I shared my heritage with, have kept something so sacred from me. Something that prevented me from knowing the truth for seventeen years. They've forced me to believe I was someone I wasn't, and have made me question who I've become and who I would've been, had I known the truth…
There are things about me that I'm not proud of anymore; things that I simply cannot believe are true. There are instincts buried deep beneath my veins that make me a servant to the moon and a slave to the smallest droplet of blood. I am the enemy I was forced to stay away from my entire life; the enemy I believed to be considered a monster, is right in the reflection of my mirror staring back at me.
Ever since I was a little girl I've liked my steak rare, I've enjoyed the flavorful remains that would ooze out of the meat as you carved into it. Mama always told me it was because I held a hearty appetite, and it was because of that appetite that I was so healthy and strong. Why not speak the truth? Why not tell me that my desire for rare meat was not a mere healthy appetite; but rather a bloodthirsty desire of my inhumane and monster-like instincts?
It was all a lie.
Every part of my being was untruthful. How can someone feel so foreign in their own body? So out of touch with reality and where they belong in it?
Rivers… Hope Rivers… that was who I was, or who I thought I was. But now I don't know who I am anymore. I guess I'm on the same journey everyone else has been following for all these years…
Finding Hope
A/N: Please review :)