I was four when the world ended. Or at least I thought it did. My dog, Jesse and I were out in the backyard playing in my sandbox. Jesse, my giant hound dog, was watching squirrels race across the yard. I know she was dying to chase them, but she didn't want to leave me alone.
We lived in a crappy neighborhood, full of violence, but my mother never noticed. She wasn't home long enough to notice anything amiss. My latest babysitter, Shellie, was sitting on the porch smacking her gum and talking loudly on the phone, complaining about her latest boo.
Suddenly, a deer shot out of the woods and Jesse couldn't stand it anymore. She chased it, and in fear the deer went straight into the street where a car was going dangerously fast. Along with killing the deer, it also took Jesse's life.
I ran after her, shouting my new found cuss words that I learned from Shellie's conversations. Shellie came running out and shooed my to the backyard. She clearly didn't know what to do with a hysterical child. I reluctantly went to the backyard, where I sat confined to my sandbox.
That was the first day I saw the wolves.
As I cried myself to sleep for months after that, the wolves would come and comfort me. I would sneak out of bed late at night and sit on the porch, running my hands through there warm fur. Never did it occur to me that these giant animals could hurt me.
I was six, when I was first bitten my one of them. Again, I was in my backyard, with a new babysitter sat inside watching TV. My backyard was my haven, the place to be. The place where I could wander endlessly with no worries. One of the most frequent wolves, who I had nicknamed Marvin, was sitting with me as I sat staring into the forest. The trees loomed over me, giving me a sense of protection I desperately needed.
Marvin and I sat there, Marvin sitting straight and alert, and me, my short brown haired-head in his gray fur. I failed to notice how desperately skinny he had become, the air growing colder day by day. I was too young to realize he was running out of food.
I heard the timer go off in the kitchen, and I jumped up, running inside to retrieve my hotdog, that just came out of the oven. I quickly ran back outside, where Marvin faithfully sat in the grass. I sat down next to him, taking a bite of my hotdog when I heard Marvin growl. I glanced at him, not understanding the meaning. I turned back to my hotdog; loving the warmth it brought my growling stomach.
Before I knew it, Marvin had my arm in his teeth, and he ripped the hot dog out of it.
By eight, I realized I was becoming one of them. I stayed up late at night, way too late for an eight year old girl. My smelling and hearing had improved greatly. I was able to pick up the sounds of my mother's car, turning down the street a mile off.
I could see clearly at night, as well as the day. My hair grew abnormally fast; it was down to my waist in no less than a month. Neither my mother nor my babysitter noticed anything, and I went on hanging with my wolves. I just wished I realized the danger I was putting myself in.
The wolves were my family, my shelter, my whole world. In a way, they replaced Jesse, the only living being who ever loved me. As I grew older, the real world became a blur and the wolf world took over.