Wolf Sirens: Forbidden: Discover The Legend (6 page)

Cresida was in my fourth period class.The USB stick
containing the footage had to be in her bag. How
was I going to get it? I had a hint of sympathy creep
over me for her. Surely, no matter what she did for
them she would never get back into their circle?
They were probably using her as much as they used
Giny, exploiting her needy vulnerability in exchange
for popularity. Maybe they used Cresida now too. I
had a sudden urge to run home and never come back.
To call Bec who had been an ear for me via SMS the
last week. Part of me wanted to go home but nothing waited for me there, the city was a cold host. I
remembered Arli having the girls who tagged around
with her push me in halls, and the gossip they caused.
I would have been dragged back nearly as soon as I
got there anyway, and I didn’t want to live with dad’s
girlfriend.The thought made me sick to my stomach.

A dormant spark awoke in me. The clique’s mysterious behaviour, perhaps Shade’s spirit, began to infuse
my body with life. I wanted to be alive like the clique
on the lawn; perhaps I wasn’t so different from Giny.
I wasn’t sure blood actually coursed through my grey
complexion until they looked at me. I felt what I
imagined Giny felt - that it was better to be seen,
than not seen at all. Better to be the least dazzling of
them than be invisible. Something about them beat
with life.

I went straight home avoiding practice, as a conflict of interests stormed inside me. I watched the
land pass by out the window on the bus and noticed
how green the hills were in winter. I messaged Bec
and she called me a few hours later at home.

“So how’s life?” she chirped.
“Don’t ask.”
“Bad, huh?”
“God, I don’t know, it’s weird - half the town is on

Prozac– or drinking the Koolaid and the other half,
actually the popular kids, are trying to get me to join
their clique,” I huffed in disbelief.

“Weird,” she said sounding distracted.

“I know, what a turn-around. I just wish I could
get the fuck out of here,” I sighed.
“Yeah I got your messages about the alternate
universe you’re in.”
“It’s just shit. I’m not one of these kids. I don’t
know what to do. I can’t stay here,” I whined.
“Lila, I told you my olds would kill me if you
showed up…not to mention your mum,” Bec
warned. Rebecca had always been the cautious one
in our friendship. But her warning was unnecessary.
I wouldn’t have wanted to hide at her place, not with
Jeff now permanently attached to her hip.
“I know, it’s just, my God, you have no idea how
odd it is here.”
“Hang in there, it’ll get better,” she comforted.
“What-like maybe the killer wolves will die
and curfew will be dropped?” I thought about Ben
shooting them all. For a second, maybe, I wanted to
join him, as though it was them that hindered my
freedom.
Bec laughed at my melodrama. “Yeah, genius”.
“Maybe a club will open?” It sounded stupid but
Bec feigned a laugh. “Do you think it will ruin my
street cred if I do make friends with the popular, rich
kids?” I added. Her optimism was almost contagious.
Curfew however stopped even the remotest possibility of after-dark fun.
“Why? Are there boys?” She was curious, but the
last thing I wanted to discuss with her was guys.
“No.”
“Well, it could be a new start,” she added
hesitantly.
“Great, so everyone wants me to just roll with it
and change? Even you?” I said defensively.
“I don’t, but you’re stuck there.”
“My God, you’re starting to sound more and
more like your parents.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she retorted.
“Forget it.”I knew I was being grouchy, but things
had been strange between us since she started dating
my crush.
“Fine…look, sorry it’s not working out. Hey,
maybe I’ll visit you over Christmas?”
But by Christmas I’d be a different girl.
“Yeah,” I breathed.
“Bye, Hun, keep in touch.”
“Sure, bye, Bec.” I didn’t ask about her life. I
couldn’t bear to hear how in love she was.
I wasn’t in the mood. We had fallen off the same
wavelength after they became a twosome and now
the distance made it worse. Our friendship was dying
a slow death.
I’d hoped she could make the situation here
clearer for me, but somehow I was just more confused and more alone.

6. Archangel

That night as I undressed in the bathroom mirror, I
caught sight of a discolouration on my upper arm.
I touched the mark and felt the familiar burn of a
bruise in the shape of Cresida’s fingers.

During the night I dreamt of the wolves. They
were different colours, with tanned legs that padded
through the wet earth, as they ran in the woods. One
of them stared into my face with clear as ice, blue
eyes spattered with brown specks and then it wasn’t a
white wolf ’s face - the dog’s features became smooth
and the hair over its face became luminescent white
skin, it was Sam’s face inches from my eyes. I awoke.
All the down time in Shade caused vivid dreams.

It was an image that stuck with me the next day
on the way to school, as I caught the bus. No one
from the team had called about my absence from
practice. I didn’t know if Sam would take offence to
me declining her invitation. Maybe they thought I
was making other friends, being that I had stared at
them whilst lunching with Monica and Tealy.

The day was uneventful until lunch. I waved at
Tealy only to have her assume a blank look and walk
briskly from the canteen, though my look at Monica
was surprised disappointment. She shrugged at me
also and went off after her. It wasn’t just my imagination, something was up with this whole thing,
the un-cool girls were ditching me while the coolest kids in school pursued my company – and so far
I had avoided them because my instincts told me it
was wise, especially given the whole Cresida James
strangeness. So there I sat by myself. Sam was out
on the lawn despite the overcast weather, sitting on
a bench. Giny and the rest of the gang joined her or,
rather, settled around her. I threw my lunch in the bin
and went to the library for the remainder of the hour.
I was relieved Cresida wasn’t there. I didn’t really need
the stress of confronting her. I didn’t need to suffer
any more rejection. I was disappointed I couldn’t steal
her bag for the video footage. Under the fresh spell of
my anger from being ditched at lunch by Tealy and
Monica, maybe I was capable. Sam was in my next
class and she handed me a note, touching my hand
as she did, not saying a word. I unfolded the paper
warm from her body. It read: ‘Coming to practice this
afternoon?’ in scrawling black ink. She nodded at me
with a friendly expression. I shrugged and nodded
back as the teacher began to address the class loudly. I
turned my attention to the front and then glanced at
Sam from the corner of my eye. Reid seemed to feel
my eyes, he looked my way, I flushed crimson and the
hairs on my arm stood on end. Perhaps I had enjoyed
looking at him too much. Not only did I think him
the most beautiful thing I had ever seen but that I
was infatuated. I swallowed hard and tried to steady
my heart as my pulse raced. God, how embarrassing,
I thought, as if he would even dream of acknowledging me, the chubby new girl from the city.

On my way back from the toilets in fifth period a
warm hand grabbed around my neck pulled me back
into the shadows of the hall adjacent the bathroom
into a store cupboard. For a second I thought it was
Reid. But the hands continued with force. The arms
were strong, rigid and stiff, like warm marble. The
other hand cupped my mouth and pressed down
hard as I struggled; my gasp was muffled and futile. I
thrashed as his other arm bonded around me and my
scream was stifled.

“Ssshhhh,” a hot breath hissed in my ear. It
burned like steam over my skin. The tactile texture
of plastic scooped over my head. I wriggled feebly
in panic.

“Don’t go with them,” came a low whisper.

Hands covered my eyes, then, forcefully stuffed
something in my mouth and thick tape stripped
from its roll, wound around my hair rapidly and covered my mouth.

“Are you going to go?” it hissed as my blood
pounded beneath my flesh. And drained from my
face.

I shook my head as best I could under the iron
grasp and a moist tear rolled from the corner of my
eye. I was dragged away further, disorientated in the
dark. I thrashed my legs about to little effect, against
the force.

“I don’t believe you.” The harsh whisper burned
my ear. I felt a heavy push then, downwards. My
hands were hurriedly bound with tape and, too suddenly to believe, I was thrown backwards onto the
floor of the store cupboard. And the whoosh of cold
air flowed over me as the door closed quickly with a
thud and a snap as it was locked from the outside. I
lay sprawled and bound, stiff on the floor in shock.

“Ouch,” I gasped as I tried to stand up. I’d hit the
back of my head on the pile of boxes about me. It was
pitch black - no matter how wide I opened my eyes
I could not see - covered in soft plastic and secured
with heavy tape that pinched my hair. I panicked and
struggled with the restraints on my hands. The terror of claustrophobia tensed my body and I writhed,
struggling in fright to be released from the bonds.
I stopped and told myself not to panic, though my
heart was beating furiously. I sat up on the linoleum
floor, twisting about feebly. Enough of my fingers
poked out of the binding tape to touch the cold floor
but were of no use to reach. What had just happened?
I suppressed some tears. Would they come back for
me? Was this part of the clique prank? Or was this
some other terrifying incident? Would I be raped or
tortured? How violent or cruel was this person who
had taken me, exactly? Who was it that had followed
me and dragged me in here? Was it one of the guys
- Reid or Sky? Surely they were the only boys in the
school strong enough to single-handedly drag me in
here - with such swift force? I tried to think if I’d
seen anything: a look before I’d exited class, anyone
missing who could have grabbed me at just the right
spot. Did Cresida have an accomplice? She was the
only one who had expressed the idea of not wanting
me to attend the after-school practice.

I stood up and tried to budge the door with a
kick. Of course it didn’t budge, it was heavy.They had
thought this out well. My cries were muffled moans
that frightened even me.

I struggled and pulled the tape from my hands to
no avail, it was tight. I hit the door and began to kick
it repeatedly but it was solid. Maybe I could dislodge
the lock. I beat it again and again as my heartbeat
thumped.

I didn’t give up at first. As my legs tired I lay kicking the door with one foot, repeatedly, and my mind
began to wander. As it slowed my subconscious began to entertain me.

My mind kept flashing images of Sky. Did he
look like a bad guy? What did bad guys look like?
Could that be why Cresida played a part in this
to get back in with him? It was cruel and though I
didn’t know Sam, she was the leader, and I sensed the
most heartless of the group whether it was due to her
upbringing or her money, or both. But how cruel was
she and how many strings did she control, how come
no one knocked her from her pedestal? Why did they
let her play leader – if that’s what she was? Sam had
been the one to invite me, someone who didn’t like
them had uninvited me it seemed – Cresida was the
only one who fitted the bill.
Minutes ticked by, then, it seemed, hours. I
pushed the door, I banged, and I yelled and slowly
gave up. I pressed my knees into the hollows of my
eyes and prayed to get out and that whoever released
me wouldn’t hurt me further. My fingers stung from
trying to pry the tape off and work the door handle
from behind me. I panicked, writhing in my restricted bondage. I felt weak, helpless, and my muscles did
not have the strength to free me from the bonds.
I knew mum wouldn’t notice me missing for hours,
maybe not even then. I heard the bell for end of class.
It was faint but it ran a jolt through me. I beat the
door, jumping up, and yelled again louder. Everyone
would be in the halls, this was my best chance to escape. ‘Somebody, please help, I am trapped, help get
me out!’ All I could manage was a muffled moan. I
felt the tears, trying to escape the plastic blindfold, as
weak and as cold as I felt. More minutes passed - it
could have been half an hour, it could have been an
hour. I sat again, crouching with my hands pinched
in the stretched electrical tape, my head throbbing
and shoulders bruised from slapping and punching
the door with my body weight. I waited, shivering,
my eyes wet as my mind raced and my body throbbed
with adrenaline. I started creating scenarios. Was this
to save me from my date with the dance troupe?
I thought with terror that perhaps I was now the
victim of a serial killer.
I waited. Would it be dark outside? Would anyone come back? Would I be left in here until the
Janitor found me?
All of a sudden I heard a clank, a rattle and a click
and the door creaked open, my heart stopped and
then beat like a drum. This both terrified and gave
me hope. My adrenaline surged once more. Under
force I was lifted, I was on my knees my hand bonds
were severed and my palm felt the hard cold of the
linoleum and then I was crouching and he was gone.
I heard the sound of footsteps echo, running away
fast against the floor in the still hall. I waited momentarily in anticipation of my captor’s return. I used
my hands to grapple with the bag, tearing it off and
pulling at the tape around my head in desperation,
glad to have the sense of sight back. I tore the tape
off my mouth without feeling the sting and cleared
my throat, prizing the rag weighted with saliva off
my tongue. Throwing it down I tensed but there was
only quiet. I crept out the door all the while terrified
something might grab me again. My surroundings
came into focus like a kaleidoscope. Nothing greeted
me but silence. I shivered. No one appeared when I
reached the hall, ready to fight or run. I ran, I didn’t
think of anything except getting out of the building. My eyes adjusted to the light. I just wanted out
into the open air. I pushed through the doors. It was
dusk and birds flew from the pavement, back into the
trees, startled by my presence. I momentarily thought
of going back into the office for help. I glanced at the
bus stop under a streetlight. There sat my bag near
the phone box and the bus sign. No one was around
and the only sound was the dry leaves scattering
across the pavement in the breeze. The office would
be closed. I searched for anyone, but no one appeared.
I ran over to my backpack, wondering, as I did,
if it was a trick to get me to a spot where they could
ambush me. I looked all around, there were no cars,
no people. Only the noise of traffic in the distance
broke the eeriness which spun around me. A note
taped to the top of the bag read:
‘Keep quiet, no one
will believe you – sorry I had to do it. They are dangerous, leave town now P.S-’
an arrow pointed to the
edge of the paper. I turned it over
‘I wouldn’t tell your
mother.’
My hands were shaking; the late bus rolled
up, as I tore the note off and fumbled with the zips to
find my phone. Relieved to find it, I jumped on the
bus, glad to see the driver. I was visibly shaken and
panicked, I fumbled in my bag pockets to pull out a
bus ticket and called mum from my mobile as I sat. I
stared at the sparsely seated adults; they were traveling home from work. I took a shaky breath and noted
the time, feeling disoriented. I’d been trapped against
my will for around two hours and fifteen minutes. I
knew it was a terrifying prank.
The phone began to ring, one, two, three rings -
for once I begged for her to answer, contemplating
what to say in my mind:
Mum I’ve been attacked, it’s
okay, mum sorry, I would have called if I could, I’ll be
home soon
. I heard the words in my head –
I was locked
in a store room
- and then failed to say them. She answered, sounding groggy. I knew she’d been asleep.
When I heard her voice my heart lurched.
“Hello?” she croaked.
“Hi mum, it’s me,” I said meekly.
“Lila?”
“Yeah.”
Her voice was raspy. “Did you want me to make
dinner?”
She assumed I was out, having fun.
“No.” I thanked God she was okay.
“Good, I’m tired, I had to work an extra today, are
you coming home soon?”
“I’m on my way,” I said.
“Could you pick up some painkillers? We ran
out.”
“Not now I’m on the bus, can it wait?” I was
annoyed.
“It’s okay we’ll go out later and get some, sorry
baby I’ve got a bad headache, is that it?”
“Yeah…”
“Bye.” She hung up.
I tipped my head back; I don’t know why I was
so surprised.
I told myself the reasons I didn’t tell, I didn’t want
to cause a fuss, that I didn’t want her to have to deal
with me and this right now, not when I wasn’t sure
what had happened, myself. Not after we had just
settled. I was fine, maybe bruised, shaken, but otherwise okay. Nothing seemed real as I reread the note
left on my bag. The bus driver glanced at me in the
revision mirror.
I slumped home in denial. I guess after a hot
shower that was far too long I contemplated never
going back, and then shelved it. There was one person I would need to talk to, one person who used
to know them and had been chewed up and used.
Someone who had tried to warn me. I had ignored
her warning. In my room I re-read the note again.
I remembered my dream in pieces, the one of Sam’s
eyes, blue like ice, flecked with copper and metallic
brown - looking into my face, and of the wild dogs
running in the woods. I needed to talk to Cresida and
I knew where to find her.
I had been locked in the storeroom securely and
long enough to miss practice and released without
harm. I found the yearbook in my room and it fell
open on the page with her photograph. I had looked
it over before, the picture of Cresida’s face. I skipped
through the pages further along to the school portrait photo section, where there was a comments
page and a few words hand-written by students in
pen printed over the page. Amongst others was one
sentence signed by Cres. I matched first the scrawled
note Sam had passed me in class, then the note from
my bag to the handwriting on the page. I was no expert but the scribe matched. Under the photo she
had written the line: ‘
Give peace a chance – Love Cres’
.
One thought occurred to me, was I attacked or was
I protected?

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