I always believed I was special.
My mother always told me that I would never be anybody, just like my father. She told me about the day he left and how he spat on me. She would remind me of the awful things he said and the meaningless days he had. She would repeat the same story of how I was never meant to be, and how I was the competition. I never understood that. I was the competition? But why? What did that mean? It wasn't until years later, that I figured out my mother had always been jealous of me. I was the 'other girl' in my father's life. Even if he didn't love me, I was always another option than my mother. At least, that's the way my mother's mind worked. She had never truly cared about me. Even in the worst moments of my life.
The day I heard my doorknob rattle, was the end of a normal life.
The noises around me were illuminated and thinking straight was out of the question. The fever was taking over and I was hallucinating. I saw pictures of wolves running around in my room, and the sounds from the door were crickets in a bayou. The sound soothed me, until I was stolen by the tide.
The tide picked me up and set me on something soft. I saw the images around me like a moving picture show, that I used to sneak into when I was younger. Everything was soft and fast. The tide set me on the soft kelp of the sea, and I became suddenly cold.
The smell of the ocean was unpleasant. Oil and dirt was radiating from an unseen colporate, and I was resisting to cough again. Instead, I had become immediately freezing. I moved my hand against my stomach and felt skin. I moved my hand against my leg and felt more skin. Where had my dress gone?
I felt a horrible pain shoot through my lower half. I screamed in the ocean, and was drowned out by the sounds of the currents. Something had hit the side of my face and everything went dark again. I could see no more ocean, and no more dancing wolves...
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