Chapter One

How It All Began

It was a summer night, when Bella's muggle father proposed the idea of going camping. This thing where you go outside into a remote area and you live in a blanket propped up with sticks for a short while, usually no longer than two weeks, and you usually go without anything but food, money, water and clothing. Sometimes fishing equipment, and axes and saws are also brought. Bella's mother looked at him, taken aback abit, and asked, "Camping?"

"Yeah," her father replied, stretching the word out more than needed, wondering if his wife knew what camping was. She was a witch after all, and folks of the magical society wasn't that in touched with the muggle society.

"Of course. I've heard so many wondrous things about camping, when I was a young girl and I was at Hogwarts. All these muggle borns going on about it. I've gone on "camping trips" with my parents when I was a young girl, but those were at Quidicth games, with enchanted tents and such. When can we go? Can we go on a traditional muggle camping trip?" She asked, eagerly. Clearly excited about the thought of such an idea.

Bella's mother, Monakee Mengine, was a women whom was very eager to try new things. Whenever a new possibility came to try something that she had not already done she would jump at the idea, and in many cases she got want she wanted.

"How about tomorrow? It is Elizabella's birthday on Tuesday, this vacation could be a gift to her," Mr. Mengine proposed, raising his hand to his face, and laced his thumb and forefinger around his lip and chin, showing early signs of deeper thoughts. Bella, Elizabella to him, was his life, along with Mona. He lived for the moment he would return from work each day and be with his family.

Mona's heart melted at what he had said. It may not have so deep, or a lot of words, but the man wasn't much for talking, so such things as that reminded her of his love for their daughter. "Of course," she said a smile edging over her face.

"So mummy, when can we have the bomb fire?" Bella asked, curiously looking at the rocks her mother was spreading in a circle, like she had been told to do by John.

"In a little bit, sweetie. Here, why don't you go gather us some sticks?" Her mother asked. Then looked up at the sky, examining the mignight sky, when she spotted a full moon. "But don't go too far in," she called after her daughter, whom had already said alright and was heading deeper into the woods. She doubted that werewolves would be anywhere near them, as she hadn't heard any howls or such, if she had she would have ushered her daughter into the tent, or instructed her to stay by her side, while she casted protection spells.

Bella ignored her mother's warning and vengured further into the woods, not truly knowing of any other dangers than getting lost. She kept walking till she found a clearing with many sticks that she found would suit the situation brilliantly. She began collecting sticks into a pile which she would bring back to the campfire. While doing this she heard a stick break, she turned around but found no one there. She smiled and started to begin wondering to herself about if it was some type of creature. Her curiosity getting the best of her, she began walking toward the sound of the snapping stick, when a creature stepped into the clearing.

It was nothing like she had seen in person, but she knew what it was from pictures in her books. A werewolf. It howled and ran at the girl. She screamed and went to run, but she was too slow and it was too fast. It galloped onto her, and began to bite her and tearing at her small, frail body. She screamed in fear, and in pain, and blood was everywhere.

"Is Elizabella back yet?" John asked his wife, wondering if his beloved daughter had gotten lost. He would tell you that she was nothing more than her mother's child. Filled to the brim with curiosity, bravery, and had a knack for adventure and getting herself into trouble. Sometimes he wondered if she was any part of his daughter. She not only had a personality of her mother, she also looked a lot like her. Waist length, blood red hair, lovely brown eyes, and pale white skin.

Just as Mona went to answer, something within the woods began to howl, his wives face grew serious, and then a scream. His wife, instead of saying anything, ran towards the sound of the scream. John, even though he was nothing more than a muggle knew something was wrong, and followed his wife. Worried to death.

They finally arrived at a scene that would change their lives forever. Blood was everywhere and their daughter was barely breathing, a werewolf hovered over her. Mona pulled out her wand, and screamed, "Woliton Frotium." The werewolf suddenly began to transform back into a man.

The man had light brown hair, and shabby robes. He looked at them, then down at the bloodied young girl, who was no longer conscience. His eyes filled with tears, but instead of saying sorry, he appariated, probably knowing that the spell wasn't permanent, that it only lasted for a few moments, then he would transform back. Among the saddest things about the attack, was that the man who had attacked Bella was an old friend of Monas.

"It's all my fault," John cried, feeling more terrible in his life then he ever had. If only he had postponed the idea of going camping till Monday, his daughter wouldn't be laying in her bed, all bandaged up, and having to face that fact that forever on, she would have to face a curse, being a werewolf. But he had to just go on Saturday.

"John, don't you dare blame yourself. You never would have known. I never would have known. She never would have known. Not even that man would've known. Nobody could have predicted that, so don't you dare blame yourself. You don't see anyone else blaming you? No, so you shouldn't either," Mona yelled at her husband, taking his hand, and feeling so sorry for him. Nobody was to blame. John was always so harsh on himself.

John looked up, and whispered, sadly, "I'm sorry."