The Wolf
“Where were you on the night of October 24th?”
The question puts a sour taste in my mouth. Doesn’t he know the answer already?
Hey, stay calm, stay calm... I tell myself. Don’t mess this up.
Taking a deep breath to steady my voice, I try my best to sound assertive but not threatening. “Sir,” I begin slowly, “if I’m not mistaken, I was just walking home after doing my laundry.” I remember what Marco had said about police officers; they could make anything we do look like a criminal offense, so in your explanations, try not to involve other people. At least then you wouldn’t drag them in.
I was about to add that I had already given this guy the same answer five times when his hand suddenly shoots out like a cobra, grabs the back of my head, and slams the right side of my face into the biting, cold metal table we’re both sitting at. Pain ringing in my ears and dark spots threatening to invade my sight, he puts his big, featureless red face close to my ear and screams, “DON’T LIE TO ME BOY!”
Desperation rises up, sending my heart running at three thousand miles per hour. “But I’m not,” I cry. “I’m telling you sir, it’s the honest to God truth-”
He cuts me off again. “Your kind, all you do is lie. You invade our neighborhoods, take our jobs, rape our women, and then say you ain’t got nothing to do with it.” The pressure on my head increases. As the adrenaline is pumping through me, I start flailing wildly, hoping to make contact somewhere, anywhere, to save me from this misery.
But his grip on me remains firm as he continues his rant. “It’s your culture, isn’t it. All of you stomp around this land acting like you’re entitled to everything. This country doesn’t know what the hell it’s doing letting your kind in. ” He suddenly lifts my head up, brings a meaty hand tight around my throat, and hoists me up in the air, all in one motion. He is now screaming as loudly as the cramped, colorless room will allow him.
My vision is now turning black, the pressure pounding in my head feels like it’ll explode into a bloody mess at any minute, and my chest starts caving in at a feeble attempt to bring in more oxygen. I stop hearing the man screaming his terrible words as I am overcome by the thudding sound of blood pumping through my ears and a monster of disgust and desperation pushing at the back of my throat.
As I claw and kick ferociously, a slave to my instincts, my left foot manages to make contact with his groin. Immediately, he lets go of his grip on me, doubles over, and I fall, taking deep gulps of hot, stale air. Leaving myself no time to recover, I fling myself against the heavy metal door and start banging on it with all the remaining strength left in me. “Help!” I yell desperately. “Somebody, anybody, get me out of here!” I’m breathing in as much of the  The walls feel like they’re closing in on me every passing minute, every passing second. “Help! Somebody please he-” I’m stopped by a stinging pain that has exploded on the back of my neck. Suddenly, the room spins, and I’m on the floor. All the adrenaline coursing through my veins is gone, replaced by the energy-sapping c***tail of drugs in the tranquilizer dart on the back of my neck.
As I lay there on the floor, I see the man reload his tranquilizer gun, put it in his holster, and squat down next to me. He then glares at me and whispers, “Boy, you may think you can fool me, but everyone knows all a wolf does is lie.”
The last thing I hear before I slip away is the man mumbling, “Once a wolf, always a wolf.”
Then I have a dream.
But does it really count as a dream if you already know what’s going to happen in it? Because as soon as I feel the cold, biting October wind, the sky above me flushed a pale red with the faintest hint of a moon and three 3 lone stars, I know exactly what day it was.
October 24th. The day of the incident.
As the sun’s rays disappear behind the dark golden foliage and the web of powerlines running between concrete giants, I see myself start on my usual path to my home on the outer edge of town.
The path winds off of the organized chaos of main street and cuts through a dank, narrow, and secluded alley. From there I make my way past dumpsters, rats, and through five miles of a thick stench that drives everyone else away. I found this path after being chased by a mob of people while walking home on the main street five years ago, and I haven’t walked another path since. While the main street way is only half a mile, I don’t mind this way; I prefer not to be given undeserving dirty looks when I’m walking home. In this alley, the stench leaves me only in the company of the rats. At least they don’t judge me; they’re just as hated by society as I am.
As I make my way around the last stretch of the journey home, imagine my surprise when I spot a little red-headed girl squatting in the middle of the alley. Not wanting to cause trouble, I decide to take a different route when she suddenly cries out, “Mommy?”
It takes me completely by surprise. Did she mean me? Curiously, I peek around the edge, and sure enough, she’s waving an eager chubby arm, thin creeks of tears trailing down her rosy cheeks. Immediately, I duck back behind the wall and quickly walk the opposite way. While the sight of the innocent, desperate looking girl without her mother destroys my heartstrings, who knows what could happen to me if someone saw me with her. Maybe if I keep my head down and walk quickly she won’t see me…
Too late. As I’m walking, I can hear the frenzied little patent leather shoes pattering behind me, running, reaching to catch up. “Please!” she begs. She sounds helpless , no, thoroughly despaired, as if she realizes her last hope of finding her mother is escaping before her very eyes . “Where is my Mommy. I want Mommy.”
I make my pace twice as fast, and sweat has now begun to ooze out of every pore in my body. Go away...go away...just go away...find a nice looking policeman...I try to send to her mentally. Go away and everything will be so much better…
Suddenly, the pattering noise suddenly stops. Relief floods my body, and I let my pace slow down again into a leisurely walk.
That’s when I hear the ugliest, most hair-raising scream escape her mouth and travel across the buildings and throughout the city. “TALK TO ME!” she screams. “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?!” I cover my ears, crouch down, and mentally try and make her stop.
“HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!”. I can feel the weight of her words pressing in on me at every angle, every piece of fur on my body is raised, pulled by the fright of the outcome I hoped desperately wouldn’t happen...
Too late; I could only stand and watch helplessly as two men in dark blue uniforms run around the corner, their tranquilizer guns raised. Panic overtaking me, I hold out my hands and ramble, “Stop, please don’t fire, please, I was just walking home, please-”
The first one hits me in the right shoulder, and before I can even begin my next sentence the next one hits me in the left leg. Immediately, the drugs do their job; I can already feel the ground calling me closer, closer, closer…
As soon as I hit the floor, one of the men handcuffs me. As I can feel the leaden feeling seeping into my bloodstream, I hear one of the uniformed men saying, “Little Red, never go out here alone, who knows what that wolf could have done to you?”
Then everything turns black.