Chapter 2: Werewolf

My living room floor was covered with sleeping bags. Each was occupied by a very awake six-year-old. They were the guests at my sixth birthday party. Eight tiny boys had arranged themselves around the room, doing anything but sleeping. John, my best friend at the time, a very intelligent outgoing boy with dark brown eyes and sandy brown hair was sitting in the center of the group, his expression showing deep thought, eyes glowing with adventure. Eric, a quiet, rather chubby blonde haired boy, and a red haired boy who whined a lot, named Stuart, were seated on the floor at the edge of the room playing a game of muggle checkers. Brandon, a loud and boisterous boy of black hair and black eyes to match was showing off his new Jr. Flying Broomstick to Robert, a curly haired boy with lots of freckles who insisted that everyone spend all of their free time playing broomstick tag and Sean, a very speedy boy with blonde hair who loved to play football. Joshua, an obedient, calm, and quiet boy, who rather reminded me of myself, and I had curled up in our sleeping bags and were trying to sleep. We had been under strict instruction by my parents, who had both went to sleep, that we should go straight to bed.

"I've got an idea!" shouted John suddenly.

"What? What? What is it?" exclaimed Brandon excitedly.

"We can play hide and seek in the woods!" said John, as though it were the greatest idea ever.

"Yeah," agreed Sean excitedly. "I've done that before. It's fun!"

"I wanna be it!" cried Brandon.

"But you're always it when we play broomstick tag," whined Stuart. "I wanna be it!"

"We should let John be it," said Joshua. "It was his idea."

"Yeah," agreed Eric.

"Okay, I'm it," said John. The others were ready to protest, but I spoke up first.

"We shouldn't play in the woods at night," I said. "It's dangerous."

"C'mon Remus," John had said. "It'll be fun. Your parents will never know." Finally I agreed. We slipped out the back door. Eric was 'it'. Figuring that if I was going to play I'd at least have a good hiding place, I crept deep into the forest, far from everyone else. Kneeling behind a bush, it wasn't long before I wished I hadn't hidden so far away. The forest at night was nothing like I'd remembered it from when I'd played there in the daylight. The light of the moon bathed the night in silvery light and the shadows of the trees danced in the wind. I shivered. I can't go back, I thought. I don't want them to think I'm scared.

Just then I heard a rustle of leaves. I silenced myself and listened attentively. I could hear the sound of an animal panting behind me. I couldn't resist the temptation to turn around and see what it was. A pair of yellow eyes stared back at me. Through the moonlit shadows I was barely able to identify the silhouette of a huge gray monstrous looking wolf. Slowly, I got to my feet and steadied myself, legs shaking. I trembled with fear, my feet unwilling to run. The wolf stared at me, snarling, its fangs dripping. I stared back, still frozen with fear. Suddenly, the wolf's head snapped to the side jerkily and it began to turn around. The peculiar movement of the animal puzzled me, but I wasted no time in realizing that it was my opportunity to run. My feet pounded hard against the earth and my heart raced. I didn't dare look back to see if the wolf was following. Gasping for breath, I staggered on, my pace lessening, still unsure of where I was running. All at once with incredible force, I felt four large paws pounce against my back, forcing me forward. My face in the dirt, the taste of blood already filling my mouth, I felt the animal still on top of me, with crushing weight, as though, aware of its defeat, pondering the best way to finish off its prey.

A few seconds later, I felt the weight lessen, claws removed from my flesh. I remained facedown, and thought perhaps the wolf had gone, but I felt warm breath on my face. Terrified to run or make any sudden motion, I kept my face down, clamped my eyes shut and remained still. Without warning, I felt sharp fangs sink into the upper portion of my arm, which was sprawled out straight on the ground from when I had fallen. I silenced myself from screaming, but felt the wolf begin to effortlessly drag my lifeless body further into the forest. It was going to take my somewhere where I'd never be found and kill me! I felt the sleeve of my shirt growing warm with blood pouring from the bite. I was too overtaken with fear to feel any pain from the wound. I felt my limp body being dragged across the ground, face down, being scraped by brush and twigs. I had to do something. I reached out my other arm and was able to grasp a rather large stick. The energy came to me, I'll never know how I managed it, but I swung the stick as hard as I could in the direction of the wolf. Its grip on my arm loosened, and I heard it moan in pain. I forced myself to my feet, at the same time trying to free my arm from the wolf's fangs. As I pulled, I felt a horrible pop within my shoulder, and the wolf's teeth tearing through flesh, but I finally broke free. Powered only by adrenaline, I sped away, my arm hanging lifelessly at my side, my head pounding and unclear, the wolf chasing along behind. Vaguely able to think, I managed to force my weak limbs to quickly climb a large tree, the wolf nipping at my heels. Finally, I was able to seat myself on a safe branch. I sobbed, my mouth tasting of blood, dirt and tears, every limb of my body too weak to make another movement, and still the wolf stood at the base of the tree howling furiously at its escaped prey. Finally, it appeared to grow bored and darted away into the forest. Too weak and afraid to descend the tree, I remained there, my good arm maintaining a tight grip on the branch. I had no idea where I was. I couldn't see my house, and it felt as though I'd run for miles from the wolf. I was beginning to feel the throbbing pain in my arm, which had now thoroughly covered my shirt with blood. Helpless and worried that I was lost forever to live in the forest, because it seemed that I'd never find my way back, but perhaps if I shouted loud enough someone would hear.

"Help!" I cried out weakly, my voice barely audible. I tried twice more, before I had no strength left and felt my grip from the tree slipping. I fell downwards, tumbling farther and farther, never feeling the impact of the ground.

***

"He'll be fine," I heard an unfamiliar voice saying.

"You're certain there's nothing wrong?" asked a voice I recognized as my father's. I opened my eyes and squinted. I was lying in a bed in a tiny white room. Warm rays of sunlight were flooding through the windows. The man my dad was talking to was a doctor.

"So, how likely is lycanthropy?" asked my dad.

"Well," said the doctor. "Given the night it happened, it's highly likely. The test results should be finished in an hour or so. I'll go check on it." The doctor left the room.

"Lyca- what?" I asked.

"Oh, Remus," my dad was startled. "Nothing... important. I'm glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?" I thought for a second.

"Tired."

"Well, you'll be needing to get plenty of rest, but you'll be just fine," said dad. "It's a good thing your friends realized you were in trouble last night."

"What happened?" I asked, trying to remember.

"John helped me find you. You'd fallen from a tree in the forest, and we discovered that you'd been bitten," said dad. "You know, it was very dangerous for you kids to go out in the woods at night like that." I knew he was right.

"I'm sorry," I said, beginning to cry.

"I'm just glad you're alive," said dad, hugging me. "You could have been killed. That was so dangerous, Remus." There was a long silence.

"Where's mum?" I asked finally.

"She's gone to speak with some doctors," said dad.

"When can I leave the hospital?" I asked.

"We'll see," dad replied, ruffling my hair. "I'm going to go find your mum now. We'll be back soon." Shortly after that, dad reentered the room, accompanied by mum, who was teary-eyed.

"What's wrong, mum?" I asked when she entered. She simply shook her head and pulled me into a long hug, staring at me with sympathetic loving eyes.

"My baby," she said as she rocked me in her arms.

"I'll be fine, mum," I said confidently. To this she had no reply.

Two days later, I was allowed to return home. During that week my mum ran about fretting over me constantly. I didn't understand why. My bite was bandaged, my shoulder had been placed back in correct location, and aside from several minor scratches and bruises, I was feeling like normal. That was, aside from my dreams. Every night I'd have nightmares of the wolf. I was never there, it was only the wolf. I could hear it talking, and the things it said terrified me. I never told anyone of these dreams, so they couldn't be the reason my parents were so worried.

After a week out of the hospital, I returned to school to find myself amidst the most peculiar situation. All morning in class, I noticed people glancing at me with their heads turned to the side, as though I was something unusual to them. Everyone seemed to maintain their distance. Josh, who I sat next to, had moved his desk over to sit next to Eric instead. I'd even caught my teacher staring at me as though trying to see something deeper than visible to the eye. I was glad when recess finally came. On the playground I talked to John.

"So, are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm not in the hospital anymore," I replied, as we swung next to each other on the swings.

"That's not what I mean," he said. "I mean, you know. You got bitten by that wolf on full moon. So, you know. People think, well, that you're a werewolf. I told them you're not. I'm right, aren't I?" I was appalled that anyone could think such a ridiculous thing. Of course I wasn't a werewolf! I'd scarcely heard of them before, in fact, I reckoned they might not even be real.

"Sure you're right," I replied confidently. "I'm not a werewolf. That's a dumb thing to think."

By the end of that day, my entire class had heard that I wasn't a werewolf, and after John convinced them, no one believed it anymore, including myself. Outside of school, my life remained the same as well. The only slight difference that I could sense was my parents' treatment of me since the incident. My mum was constantly asking how I felt, and checking on me. She and dad would both exchange worried glances and have long discussions that I couldn't hear. I assumed they were just worried about me getting into danger again. But nothing seemed that out of the ordinary in my six-year-old eyes.

One night, however, that all changed. I had tossed and turned awake for quite a while, unable to sleep. Finally, I crept out of bed and, planning to go downstairs, overheard a conversation between my parents.

"How are we going to tell him, Chris?" demanded my mum, who sounded as though she'd been crying.

"We're just going to have to tell him like it is. There's no way other than letting him see the truth and face it. That's just the way it is."

"But couldn't they do something? There's got to be some sort of treatment."

"We've been through this a thousand times before. There's no cure for being a werewolf. It's something that you, me and him are all going to have to deal with. Granted it won't be easy." I couldn't believe what my ears were hearing. I was a werewolf. I began to feel sickness spreading through my stomach. A werewolf? It couldn't be! I'd know if it was true. I'd feel it or something, and I felt fine. My parents must have been mistaken. Perhaps the hospital had been wrong.

"What's he going to do on full moon?" asked mum.

"He'll have to go out," said dad. "Perhaps I could build him a shed or something in the woods for him to transform in."

"My poor baby going out all alone," cried mum.

"We've got no choice," said dad.

"We got a letter from the school today," said mum. "It asked if Remus was a werewolf. We're required to tell them of his condition if he is. They could expel him, Chris!"

"Let's not worry about that now, Sarah," said dad. Terrified of what I'd just heard, I crept back up the stairs and to my bed. I crawled back under the blankets, but I couldn't sleep. All I could think of was the wolf that I'd been seeing in my dreams. Could it have been me? I sobbed and sobbed. I just wanted everything to be normal again. I was still crying when I heard the creaking of my door opening. I shut my eyes and tried to remain silent. My dad walked into the room.

"Goodnight, Remus," he whispered, leaning over me. I accidentally let out a soft sob.

"Remus, are you awake?" he asked. I turned over. "What's wrong?" he asked, noticing that I was crying. He sat down on the bed next to me.

"I-I overheard you and mum talking earlier," I said. "I don't want to be a werewolf." Dad's face had grown pale.

"That's not the way we intended for you to find out," he said quietly, as though he was at a loss for more comforting words.

"What's going on?" asked mum, walking by the room.

"Remus heard us talking earlier," said dad, giving her a look.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, rushing to my bedside. "Remus, I want you to understand that you're going to be fine, okay sweetie?" She was crying uncontrollably. I hugged her.

"I'll be fine, mum," I said confidently. I'd make it through somehow. Even at six I knew I was responsible for my own actions, and it had been my foolishness that made me a werewolf in the first place, and the only one who should have to deal with it was me.

Despite my decision to deal with the misfortune I'd acquired from my own mistake, my parents had seemed to hope for some eventual miracle cure; that if they took my to enough doctors, I might eventually be cured. In the next few weeks I visited many random hospitals and strange doctors of all sorts. We traveled all over Europe by floo powder, always to find the same conclusions. There is no cure to lycanthropy. I later learned that they'd spent most of their life savings on this, which wasn't much, mind you.

The next full moon came much to quickly for my liking. Though at six I was determined to face my problem, I had no idea what I was facing. At about five o' clock on full moon, I found myself shaking with nervousness.

"What's going to happen to me?" I asked dad.

"Well, Remus," he said slowly. "I've been doing a lot of reading on the subject, and from the best sources I've determined that you're going to go through about a five minute changing period, where you'll change into the wolf. After that, you most likely won't remember anything until the next morning, when you change back to yourself."

"Will it hurt a lot?" I asked.

"I don't know, kid," said dad sadly.

"But I won't bite anyone like the other wolf did to me, will I?" I asked curiously.

"No," said dad quickly. "You'll be safe and sound in the shed I built in the woods. There'll be no way for you to get out while you're the wolf."

"Okay," I said uncertainly. I didn't want to bite any person who might be in the woods.

A bit later, when the sun had nearly set, after mum had told me to be careful about thirty times, dad accompanied me to the shed he'd built. With a last wish of good luck, I closed myself in. The only thing left to do was wait. Trembling with nervous fear, I stretched out on my back on the floor of the shed and closed my eyes. The last traces of sunlight disappeared from the cracks of the boards of the shed. Still nothing. Maybe I'm not a werewolf! I thought excitedly. There must have been a mistake! And then I felt it, all at once. Pain ran down my spine, to every inch of my body. I began to twist and turn unwillingly. I could feel my bones transforming with horrible pops and cracks underneath my flesh. I felt the tickling sensation of fur sprouting all over my body. Then it felt as though someone had grabbed my nose and pulled. Finally, my eyesight changed, and that was the last thing I remembered.

I felt the warmth of sunlight blanketing me. I opened one of my eyes and peered out. I was back in human form again, and it was morning. No sooner had I awoken then I felt a horrible throbbing pain run through my head. I attempted to stand, but could hardly move. My limbs were extremely weak and I had numerous scratches and bite marks all over. I drifted back to sleep and when I awoke again, I was lying in my own bed.

After recovering from full moon for two days, I returned to school. That day I was questioned and prodded by most of my class. Rumors flew rapidly.

"Remus was absent after full moon."

"That must mean he's a werewolf."

"He's dangerous, stay away from him." I listened to all of this, not sure how to react. Perhaps I shouldn't tell anyone, I concluded. But I knew one person I could trust to tell. At recess I caught up with John.

"John, I am a werewolf. I didn't know it before, but I am. Will you promise not to tell anyone?" I asked. What a foolishly hopeful six-year-old I was.

"Well, uh... gosh, I can't believe you really are..." John began, looking at me differently than he ever had before. "I—uh... I'll... talk to you later. I've got to go now." He walked away, into a large crowd of kids, leaving me to myself. I still had confidence in him. He was my best friend, and he wouldn't tell anyone.

After recess, I noticed I was being treated very differently. The entire class seemed to be excluding me. Other kids moved their desks away. A girl near me dropped her pencil on the floor and when I picked it up to give it back to her, she screamed and wouldn't take it. A boy in the class asked the teacher if I was going to bite someone and turn them into a werewolf. Then I realized what had happened. John had betrayed me. He'd told the rest of my class. From across the room he sniggered at me as I began to cry. The rest of the day was miserable. The teacher insisted that I work alone instead of with a group for the rest of the day, and scolded me for being a distraction to the rest of the class. The fact that I ended up turning her hair blue didn't make her much more pleased with me. That day, she sent a letter home with me to give to my parents.

I never returned to school again. Mum and dad simply said they felt it was better that I stayed at home and learned from them. From then on I was home schooled. I knew the real reason I couldn't go to school though. No one wanted me there. My teacher had probably kicked me out.

It didn't take long for me to grow used to being alone. None of my friends ever visited. I hadn't spoken to John since that day on the playground. I didn't mind being lonely much though, and my parents tried to make up for it. We'd travel to the beach or over to London to spend days having fun. I grew to love learning. Since I had little better to do, I'd spend the majority of my time studying the things my mum taught me, or reading books.

On the outside I was a perfectly happy child, quiet and polite. But inside I was troubled and torn between my feelings and acting like everything was fine. And I was terrified of full moon. There was nothing more terrible to me than becoming that wolf. But somehow I managed. Of course I'd grown accustomed to the fact that I'd never have to face people again. After six years of solitude, that changed.