They say there’s a fine line between good and bad, a distinct line that separates one side from the other. You can be either all good or all bad, you can’t be both and you can’t be neither.
But does one bad act cross the line and make you bad? Or does one good act cross the line and make you good?
Not everything is black and white.
I know I should be sad and depressed about being apart from my family. . . but the truth was, I loved feeling so free. No one was there to compare me to Aria, no one was there to tell me who to be. It was a terrible thought but I liked these rogues better than my own family, even if some of them acted cruel. At least they saw me.
Did that make me a bad person?
Day seven came around faster than I anticipated. I hunted my own food, which was mostly fish because I couldn’t stomach eating squirrels or birds. Even if they were werewolves, that doesn’t make me one. Austin was helpful, he caught the fish for me and I got used to eating charred fish everyday. Though, I never really got used to the cold.
Or the fact that I hadn’t washed or brushed my hair in a week. It was absolutely disgusting, my hair dry but also drowning in oils. I was frustrated by my hair. It was a gigantic mess on the top of my head.
I asked Sofia if she wanted to braid my hair but she told me to do it myself.
But I didn’t want to tell her that I didn’t know how.
“I’ll braid it for you.” Bruce came up behind me and told me to sit down. I sat down in the snow, drawing words. I wrote my name with my pointer finger, my mind blank for a few minutes as he braided, until a question popped into my head.
“How did you learn to braid?” I asked as he swiftly moved his fingers, taming the ends of my hair.
“I had a sister so I’d braid her hair everyday.” That was surprising, I got the notion that these rogues had broken all contact with their family and friends.
“You have a sister? Where is she?”
“She died.” I didn’t get a chance to apologize because Bruce quickly stood up and walked away. I wondered what he was really doing here, what his story was, what all of their stories were. Even if they didn’t belong anywhere. Kind of like me.
I stood up and shivered, the cold, refreshing air hitting the back of my neck. I touched my head and marveled at how free I felt with my hair tightly interlaced. I dragged my braid onto my shoulder and saw that he tied my hair with a string. Who knew a guy could braid so well?
I spent the day walking and gathering some sticks to feed the fire. I breathed in the musky scent of the woods and sighed. Out here in nature. . . I felt different. New.
When I return home, I won’t be the same person. It was a slow change, but it was there. And that’s even if I make it home, I could stay in these woods forever. Somehow, that thought made me sad yet relieved.
The sun was low in the sky when I got back. I threw the branches in the pile and picked my head up, spying their resting bodies on the snowy floor.
I looked at them, sitting in a circle around the roaring fire. Sofia, Mila, Austin, Bruce, Ever, North and four others were talking, Bruce laughing and Sofia scowling at what was said. Ever continued to sharpen her wooden spear with a knife and Mila talked quietly to Austin. They were all eating, enjoying themselves, an air of tranquility around them.
They were suspended in between the sides in my mind. They came from bad places, but did that automatically make them bad people? At a glance, they’d seem selfish and cruel; but they watched each other’s backs.
Like a family would.
And in that moment, I wanted to be apart of it.
“Hazel, how was your walk?” Ever spoke up, the first one to notice that I was standing behind them. Everyone turned their heads to glance at me.
“Her name’s Hazel?” Sofia asked in disbelief.
“Well, it’s not ‘human’.” I didn’t stop myself from blurting.
Sofia grinned, a grin to be careful of, “Oh, so she does speak.”
“Yeah but nobody listens.” I voiced my private thoughts instead of keeping them to myself.
Sofia just laughed. “Tell me about it.”
“And it was nice, just so you know,” I answered Ever’s question and sat down between Austin and Bruce.
“Hey, we should tell her some wolf legends!” Bruce exclaimed eagerly and Sofia jumped on the offer quickly.
“I’ll go first.”
“Excuse me, it was my idea, I should go first-”
“Ladies first.”
“It would be but you’re not a lady.” Sofia flipped him off before starting. I got comfortable, crossing my legs and snuggling into the furs draped over my shoulders.
“Once upon a time, many moons ago, there was a young, little girl-”
“Just say ‘little girl’, you don’t need ‘young’ and ‘little’, you know,” Bruce rolled his eyes.
“Thanks, grammar police,” Sofia snarled sarcastically and cleared her throat loudly, returning to the story,
“As I was saying, the girl grew up with two loving parents, her mom loved to shower her with pretty dresses and her dad took her out everyday to teach her how to hunt. The pack loved her, and she loved them. Until one day, her perfect life was ripped away from her when a rival pack invaded her home. The rival pack was led by a cruel, heartless Alpha that didn’t have a second thought about killing innocents. So when he slaughtered the little girl’s parents, he didn’t care.
The girl watched as everyone she loved disappeared, their bodies burned to hide the evidence. And soon, she didn’t have any reminders of her pack, the only one being the blood stains on the floor hidden by rugs.”
I realized that this story was going to be very dark, twisted.
“Her new pack tortured her, whipped her for her insolence. She and the unlucky ones that survived were forced to be servants. Her new Alpha was heartless and cruel, taking out his anger on her and other children. And as years passed by, the little girl found herself transformed into a young woman. She was at the age when she would find her mate, someone who would save her from her abusive home.
She waited, all the while staying hopeful that her mate would find her. But he never did, and she continued to suffer in her own pack. Her Alpha would become harsher, burning her and whipping her until she fainted from the pain. She wondered. . . what she did wrong. After another torture session, she couldn’t understand why someone would want to hurt her. She wondered why she was so weak. And so, the young woman decided that enough was enough, and left. She never looked back. The end.”
Sofia finished abruptly, tentative silence filling the air.
“That was. . . very dark.” I gaped, not expecting that.
“What a downer,” Bruce shook his head, “Who wants a story that’s a little less. . . downer-y?”
“Me!” Austin interjected.
“Okay, here goes,” We all looked on as Bruce told his werewolf story, “In a modest pack of healthy wolves, there was a girl who lived with her handsome mate. They were known as the perfect couple, the Moon Goddess couldn’t have paired them any better. Everything was going as it should’ve been, the couple was expecting a baby boy and they were happy.
Or so they thought. What they didn’t know was that a freak accident would cause the girl’s mate to drown. No one had to tell the girl that her mate had died, she felt it in her heart. Soon, the mate bond was called into effect, and the girl and her unborn baby were sentenced to die. The Moon Goddess had cursed them, taking all three lives because only one had died.”
“That wasn’t any less sad.” Austin spoke up first. Bruce shrugged.
“At least they died together, it’s kind of like Romeo and Juliet,” I added but Bruce glared at me.
“So someone should die just because their mate died?” He challenged and I’d never seen him so riled up. He was always so laid back and never took things seriously.
I nervously replied, “I don’t know.”
“The whole thing is stupid.”
“But aren’t mates perfect matches. Wouldn’t you want to die with your perfect match?” I asked curiously but no one answered. I could almost hear the crickets chirping. . .
“I have a story,” Mila adjusted her messy bun.
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful werewolf girl who was desperate to find her mate. All of her friends had found their mates young, making her the odd one out. She searched everywhere and one day, when she was out hunting, she found her mate: a normal human. Back then, it was almost unheard of for a human to be a werewolf’s mate, but the girl didn’t care. She loved him, regardless of his blood, and he learned to love her.
The girl wanted to tell her pack, so a month after they met, she introduced him to her pack. But her Alpha didn’t react the way she thought he would. He lashed out, he didn’t want humans in his pack. So he killed him.”
I inhaled sharply, stunned that all of these stories had dark twists. Why were werewolf stories so terribly tragic?
“But not before he severed their mate bond,” She added, looking down, “Saying the words that saved her life.” Mila ended her story there and I was left with a question.
“What words?” I asked but Mila didn’t answer.
“I think I’ve had enough for one day.” A rogue, whose name I thought was Harp, yawned and stood up, leading three others with her.
“So,” I almost forgot Ever was there, “What’s your story?” She turned to me.
“Me?” I pointed at myself, “I don’t have one. I’m just a normal girl.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.” Sofia scoffed.
I shook my head fiercely, “Really, I don’t-”
“We told you ours, tell us yours.” Bruce’s words made my heart stop.
“Ours?” I repeated and looked around the circle. In horror, I realized that they were relaying stories of themselves, everything they had to fight through.
How was I supposed to side with them? How was I supposed to side against them?
Not everything is black and white, I learned.
And sometimes the lines became blurred.