November 25th
Last night, I became a wolf. It was the full moon, and I heard her voice. She’s never called to me like that before. The sky was a mirage filled with her light and heat. Marcherie was sleeping next to me. We had made love the hour before, but I couldn’t sleep.
I don’t know what happened with us. I used to always find peace when she was near, but now I wonder if peace still exists. Nothing stops my mind. I haunt myself.
I counted Marcherie’s slow, sweet breaths and wanted to make her stop. I wanted her breath to be mine. I needed it more. I don’t know. I don’t know. I was jealous of how easy it was for her to rest. Did she not know I was struggling right beside her? How could she sleep against my suffering?
I crawled out from our bed and pressed myself to the window, aching for the touch of moonlight. For the touch of anyone or anything else. Marcherie had her precious slumber to keep her company. She didn’t need me.
I opened the window quietly and walked onto the terrace. My body trembled. An ache in my throat brought me to my knees. The hair on my arms grew long and white. My teeth were sharp as I ran my tongue over them. I was starved for something I couldn’t name, and I wanted to scream. Back arched, I howled at the moon.
And the moon howled back.
Her sweet song filled me with extreme hunger. A growl rumbled in my stomach.
- Eat, my child, she said.
The light guided me back to my room. There, on the floor, the moon had left a gift for me. Glorious, still hot with life, a deer lay before me. I ran my claws over its tawny ribs, dreaming of gnawing the skin off them. My mouth watered so heavily that my spit pooled on the neck of the animal as I leaned over it.
- Eat, the moon said to me again.
All I wanted was sleep. But I knew who would be waiting on the other side of that nightmare. So I kept my eyes open, and I let hunger lead me. I turned the deer’s face toward me. Its eyes were wide with death. Hunger dripped from my teeth as I planned where to lay my bite. The neck, long and meaty, was too tempting to deny.
Breath quickening, I leaned down and sank my teeth into the animal I thought was dead.
Then it started screaming. This only made me bite harder. I was a wolf! A wolf does not run from the prey in its mouth. A wolf devours.
The deer kept fighting, though, kicking at me with its strong legs. It twisted its neck out of my bite.
I blinked, and
I blinked, and
I blinked.
I blinked back to reality.
The window was closed. I was in our bed. There was no deer, but there was blood.
And there was Marcherie, cowering on the edge of the bed, a wound on her neck in the shape of my teeth.
- March, I said.
- You bit me!
She sobbed. I sobbed. My face felt cold. I touched it to find wet blood dripping down my chin. I didn’t just bite her, I realized. I tore out a piece of her flesh.
I am a monster. I have become the beast I fear the most.
- I’m so sorry, Marcherie.
I reached for her. She fell off the bed with how fast she tried to get away from me.
- Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me again!
She started for the door.
- I’m sorry, I said again.
