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It seems like forever since I’ve seen Micah’s face, but I truth it’s only been ten years. A decade, 5,258,487 minutes, ten years since I’ve seen Micah. Some days I just want to bite his head off, he hasn’t came for me, and some days I still hold on to the hope that maybe he will. Maybe I just have to give him some more time, but then my wolf screeches at me most of the time she says things like, it’s been ten years how much longer does he need? Other times she’ll just curse at me, but she apologizes later. They’ve kept us here, a place called California, for these ten years. Every day I wish something would happen, they would find us but it never happens. Mom hasn’t been much help, since after the fifth year she just broke down. She doesn’t talk much now; she does her chores, and eats her food cries and sleeps. I don’t think she’s trying to believe daddy will come for her, I think she’s just given up on hope completely. I let out a sigh as I sew together grass clothes, it’s hard to do this because you can’t rush it through the loom because then you’ll rip it. But after 5 years of doing this I think I can go pretty fast. I start to hum, it’s an old song but I’ve heard Cora humming it sometimes. I think it was old back then, the thought of Cora makes my eyes sting with tears so I just hum louder. I hear a whimper and I turn to look at mom, her looks have drastically changed, her brown eyes have become sad instead of happy, her hair has dulled and the only brightness in it is the green stripes. Her face is a constant frown so she doesn’t have the laugh lines she had 10 years ago. She’s trying to make the grass go through the loom but her hands have become shaky so it’s difficult, I let out a frustrated sigh and lean over her,
“Relax, it’s going to be ok,” I tell her as I realign the grass so it’s not sideways, “Micah and daddy will come, and we’ll be out of here” I tell her. I plant a kiss on her cheek and sit back where my loom is,
“Soon,” I say with happiness, and because I don’t believe myself “hopefully” I add.

Hope is a funny thing isn’t it? When you need it, it’s there but it’s only a charade and when you don’t need it, there it is ready to fake you into believing that everything will be alright. Right now I have absolutely no hope, my life has been a living hell, and as soon as those five minutes started I knew that it would last forever. We have been trying to find them for ten years, and for ten years we haven’t succeeded. Her father seems to always be upset and the pack has gone unsettled. My mother died 2 years ago, but I haven’t had time to mourn, I’ve become alpha so as my first motion I moved the pack closer to the dens. Good thing Oregon is like wolf central because there are plenty other den’s nearby. We tried tracking her scent, going to where sprites normally are but so far we have nothing. I just want to hold her in my arms now, just rock her back and forth and never let her go, I think her father is the same way about her mother. He shut down after the eight year so he’s no help with the pack or helping finding them. His blond hair has become dirty his eyes dull and his face grim. Why can’t hope actually be on my side for once?


“Mom,” I shake her up, she’s fallen asleep again “zhafar wants us” her head pops up and she fixes her hair. It’s best if we not go to zhafar bad-looking. I learned that the hard way, he got to punish me and I don’t like being punished by him, no more than I like to be punished by mom’s dad. I am not to call him grandfather because a grandfather wouldn’t do what he does to me to his granddaughter. She stands up and together we walk up the stairs, out of the basement and into the darkened hallway. She stops me and fixes my hair, puffs up my cheeks and wipes off some of the dust off my clothes; I do the same for her. Together we walk into the living room and together us smiles. This is standard procedure when it comes to zhafar, he doesn’t like to see us sad, and at first I thought it was nice but later on I realize he’s a monster. And his face isn’t handsome at all; it’s ugly and disgusting, just like the soul beneath it.
“Hello ladies” he says smoothly, he’s sitting on one of the leather chairs that are in the living room. I never liked this room; it has that whole grunge thing that I don’t like.
“Hello” we both say, this is the only time I hear my mother’s voice, and even then it sounds broken, he has to have noticed and just doesn’t care.
“Well I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you?” when we both nod he points to the main door,
“Open it” he says lightly. I’m afraid to, grand mom says we are never to open the door, and we’re never to leave, this could be a trick. To get s to be punished again, I look to him and he raises an eyebrow. I know what this is, a silent question, asking if I dare to defy him. Instead I smile and walk to the door with slow careful steps. I look up the stairs to grand mom and mom’s dad rooms, there’s no sound. They must be sleeping, it is pretty late, and I wonder why zhafar is up. I close my hand around the knob and turn it, nothing’s happening, no alarms are going, nothing is attacking me. I open it and breathe in the night air, oh how much I’ve missed the night air!
“What do you think you’re doing?” I hear grand mom’s voice hiss at me and I slam the door closed. Her eyes are red, and her hands are on her hips,
“I thought I told you no opening the door and no leaving” she yells at me, I put my head down and sneak a peek at zhafar. He’s fighting off a smile and tries to look furious,
“Sorry grand mom” I say low with my head down,
“You don’t know the meaning of sorry” she sneers, then from the corner of my eye I can see her look to zhafar. Oh no,
“Take her to her room, and punish her” her voice is cold and unloving, I put my eyes back down and I hear her walk up the stairs. He walks to me and grabs my arm roughly, he drags me all the way down the hallway to where I and mom’s room are and he pushes me onto the mattress on the floor that belongs to me. I get up and kneel on the bed,
“Please you don’t have to do this, just please let us go” I beg, he has to see this is wrong. He has to see he can’t do this.
“Your mother should have been with me” he says angrily “you should have been my child, and because of her whorish ways you belong to another”. I’m hurt by his words; my mother is not a whore!
“If you cannot belong to me by blood you will be mine another way” he pushes me on the bed and climbs on top of me, I kick and squirm trying to get away from him trying to grab anything, anything that will help me escape. That earns me a slap in the face, it stings like a million spears of ice shooting at my face, and that was the last straw. I howl, but this isn’t a normal howl, this howl moves heaven and earth, it shakes the ground, it explodes ears. While he covers his ears I push him off of me and snap his neck, the punisher is no more, I run into the living room and hold my mom’s hand. Her face is confused she doesn’t know what’s going on, I don’t have time to explain so I settle for,
“We’re leaving” I say fast and short me run and open the door. I don’t have time to bask in the air that hits me or the smells that waft into my nose instead I run onto the lawn. I take a breath and howl, a searching howl, I don’t think we’re that far from Oregon and maybe they can hear me. I listen hard; I hear grand mom and mom’s dad getting ready to come down. I can’t hear anything else, I howl again longer and louder this time, I think I hear the faintest sound of a howl, not well enough. I howl again an angry searching howl and this time I hear a reply. It’s to the north of me and there is nothing but land there. I look to mom again,
“Can you fly” she nods her head and I spread my wings,
“Then get ready” we fly away just as grand mom and mom’s dad comes out. I happily think hahahahahahaa we’re leaving.


“Their coming” is all her father says after he shifts back, his face is clearer now and I can see his smile,
“She called me and their coming”
“Whoa whoa whoa” I hold my hands up “you mean to tell me that a wolf can howl and you think that it’s Elizabeth?”
“One, I know my daughters howl, two have you heard any other howling in the past ten years?” his face is understanding bordering on anger.
“I guess your right” I’m giddy with hope now, but the question is when will they get here, will they fly, will they walk, and do they have money? So many questions so little answers.


This air feels amazing, especially when we’re so high up,
“Can we fly any faster?” mom asks being a little annoyed; this is the 8th time she’s asked this
“You know for a person who’s been catatonic for almost 5 years your very chatty” I spit back at her, I want this moment to last forever but she’s right we should fly faster. I howl again and this time I hear him, that low throaty growl I’m too excited to hold in my happiness,
“Daddy?!” I yell and I listen
“Elizabeth!”
“Michael” mommy yells and she jets off toward the direction of his yells
“Alexis!”
“Micah!?” I yell
“Alexis!” and soon I’m flying fast with her too. We’re giggling and holding hands all the way to the clearing, where we see Micah and daddy. We land and we start running, we haven’t run in a while so we’re kind of slow but they run to us too. Micah has gotten older and more handsome but I don’t really care about how he looks, as long as he’s there. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist. He holds me close to him, nearly squishing me

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