My name is Clara, and I was raised by wolves.
They have silky fur coats which shine a silvery grey in the moonlight, and their golden eyes are soft and gentle. I was left in the wilderness when I was only a few days old. Although it was so many years go, I remember it like it was just yesterday. I was cold, frightened, and all though I was very young, I felt fully aware of what was happening around me. My mother had jet black ringlets in her hair and wore a white shawl and beaded skirt. I remember her perfume drifting over me like a warm blanket as I nestled close to her. Her cherry red lips widened as she laughed, showing her perfect set of pearly white teeth. She was astonishingly beautiful, inside and out. It still hard, talking about her.
I was born into a gypsy family, so we travelled around a lot. My mother was a keen violinist, it's what she did to earn enough money for us. We were living in poverty, and she always had to scrape the bottom of the barrel in order for us to stand a chance of survival. She practised until the early hours of each morning when the blazing orange sun had just appeared from behind the apple trees, and I would listen contently in my cot. I still remember her, sitting in our trailer, concentrating as magnificent music filled the air. I can still hear her playing, singing me my special, soft lullaby.
I was lying peacefully in my cot one day, while my mother was chopping up vegetables for dinner. The clock struck seven and filled our trailer with a ear splitting chime. I sensed something was wrong when there was a loud bang on the door. The banging wouldn't stop and it wasn't until the hands had forced their way through into our home that we knew were under attack. Blades, and pitch forks plunged through the wooden door and my mother screamed in terror, her back up against the wall. The whole world stopped and my mother's vegetable knife crashed to the floor. She edged her way towards me, lifting me carefully out of my cot and holding me tightly in her arms. I couldn't believe what was happening. My tiny fingers clutched her raven black hair, praying for some sort of miracle to happen.
But it didn't.
I coughed as a large axe hacked another colossal hole into our home, and dust gathered in thick clouds around us.
"There she is!" shrieked an old woman, pointing her bony finger through the door and viciously scowling straight at my mother.
"It's the witch who lives among us! She weaves her black magic and must be burned at the steak, like all of her poisonous sort!" she spat. I could sense the venom seeping from her tongue as she hissed every word. There was jeering from the mob as more pitchforks stabbed through the walls, tearing our home apart.
"Kill her, plunge your blades through her stone heart!" screamed a chorus of people.
A man fought his way through the flames and chased my mother and me with a dagger dripping in deep red blood. My mother shrieked and staggered out of the village; through the forest with me still firmly clutched in her arms. I peered over her shoulder as she staggered shakily away from the villagers, and what I saw made my heart skip a beat. Our home was alight with monstrous orange flames and thick black smoke. The windows shattered, unable to withstand the intense heat. I screwed my eyes up tight and tried to wish it all away. I listened to the imaginary violins, playing loudly in my head, blocking out each agonising scream. Suddenly, I sensed someone lunging towards us, and my mother let out a shriek of horror. The music stopped.
I thought everyone had left us alone, that we were free at last.
But then, I opened my eyes.
My mother was staring at me, her face drained to a ghostly white, mouth twisted in shock. She swayed unsteadily, and let out a gasp, before dropping to her knees. I thought she was just tired from all of her running, until I saw the blood.
"Clara," she whimpered, before curling up in the snow.
I cried and screamed until my lungs were on fire. I held out my tiny freezing fingers and desperately tried to make her wake up, in anyway I could. We lay down together in the ice, our hearts beating in unison, until I could only hear my own. I felt flames in my throat. I choked back hoards of tears as I stared into my mothers lifeless eyes. As soon as I looked at her, I knew it was all over, but I didn't want to believe it. She had left me forever, but she wasn't ready, and neither was I. We had to stay together, for that was how we had always been; I couldn't imagine living any other way.
I screamed helplessly as her murderer ran back to the village, to boast to his friends of his triumph. I nestled into my mothers cold body, which lay limply in the snow. The soft glow had disappeared from her cheeks, like a candle, blown out for eternity. It was the longest night of my life, filled with fear and frustration. I could still hear the villagers merrily singing in celebration, clinking wine glasses and laughing heartily. I had nothing to celebrate. My mother was dead, and they were the malicious monsters that had taken her away from me.
As my eye lids grew heavy, I remember seeing two bright golden eyes, gazing at my tear sodden face. They seemed to search deep into my soul, shining like two flickering torch lights. I wasn't sure whether I was dreaming or wide awake. It was hard to tell what was real anymore. I flinched in fright, my heart racing. Had a villager come back to kill me, as well as my mother? I crawled closer to my mother, dragging myself to safety. It was only after a few minutes that I realized the figure staring at me wasn't human. It was crouched on all fours, nuzzling it's cold wet nose against my face. It breathed gently upon me, as if trying to warm me up with its hot breath. For the first time that night, I felt safe.
The creature broke it's gaze away from me for a split second, and howled at the silvery white moon. It returned it's large eyes towards me, as if fascinated by my face. Then, the creature lifted me up gently in it's mouth, and I felt my frozen body start to regain it's warm temperature. I'm sure it was trying to keep me warm, but then, could it really know what it was doing? Surely not, if it was just an animal. Can they really have the same thoughts and feelings as a human? As my mind wandered, the strange creature carried me deeper into the forest, slowly treading across each snowy mound, taking great care not to jerk me too hard in any direction. I felt my eyelids drift shut and I dozed off, into my dream world.