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The night I was attacked, I had gone home and cried for hours in my room. Over the months, I couldn't shake off the resentment and rage that I felt at everyone around me, especially my parents.
“What’s wrong with you, Lana?” my mother, Tiana, huffed when I barely talked to her or my dads for the third day in a row after the attack.
“Nothing,” I said, looking away in case she could read me. No one was allowed to know my shame. “Why are you always trying to control everything I do?”
Sadness filled her eyes as she calmly sat on my bed beside me.
“Did something happen? What can I do to make it better?”
“Nothing,” I said, heading to the closet and throwing my things into a suitcase. “I’m moving out.”
“What?” she asked, dumbfounded as she watched me. My heart ached, and my stomach hurt. I couldn’t bear to be home in this happy family who thought everything was hunky dory, and peachy. They wouldn’t want an unclean girl like me living here. “Where are you going to live then?”
“With Grandma,” I muttered.
“Oh, okay,” she said, and I could hear the relief in her voice. Grandma only lived a block away. “Well, when you feel better, I would love for you to come back home. We all love you. Your siblings, fathers, and I are going to miss you.”
And that’s how I ended up living with my grandparents until I finished college and opened my shop with Papa Grant’s assistance. I still lived with them, but my siblings always visited me like nothing had changed. If I spent too much time with my mother, she would get me to open up about everything. And ever since I moved out, our relationship had never been the same. I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to tell my family what happened to me.
I rummaged through my rucksack, looking for my binoculars which were underneath the pepper spray I carried everywhere. I usually scanned the beach with binoculars while no one was there. If people saw me, they’d think I was weird. But as usual, I couldn’t see him anywhere. I sadly placed the binoculars back into the bag as I could see beach-goers arriving now that it was sunrise. I just wanted proof. Proof that the creature still existed. As I placed everything back into the bag, I felt goosebumps on the back of my neck.
Like someone was watching me.
I slowly turned, and seeing no one- I breathed a sigh of relief. I was getting too obsessed and freaking myself out for no reason.Breathe Alana.
It was sunset by the time I arrived at the annual barbeque for Shadow Hunt's Fest, which was already full of people. I eyed everyone as I stepped out of the car that I received for a birthday present from my dads. I was so conflicted about what to wear, so I opted for denim shorts with a striped tank top of blue and yellow. My hair was in a messy bun with a blue hairclip to match my tank top, complete with silver hoop earrings and white sneakers. I felt good about myself and resolved to enjoy my off day even though I was not too fond of partying.
I was the last to arrive at the park. I saw my dads and other pack alphas surrounding three grills at the front entrance of the reserved park.
“Welcome, daughter!” boomed Papa Grant, pulling me into a big hug. I hadn’t seen him in a while, and his normally chiseled face was now covered in wrinkles, and his eyebrows were gray, matching his hair. He was always so happy to see me even though I moved out years ago. He never showed his disappointment at what I did and was more nicer to me for some odd reason. Every time I visited him, he had the biggest grin on his face like he missed his oldest daughter.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, smiling when I saw the massive pile of burgers and hot dogs on a tray. “You guys have been busy.”
"We're enjoying this nice weather," he boomed. "How's my little entrepreneur?"
"The shop's going good," I said, rolling my eyes with a smile.
“Here, take a plate,” said my father, Tony, hugging me next. He was the father who encouraged us to delve into our dreams as kids. He played guitar to this day, entertaining the people of Howl's Edge Island. The guitar was pretty ancient, which always sat in the corner of his room, which we were never allowed to touch as kids.
“What would you like?” asked Sam, who was already grabbing me a plate and heading to the picnic table. The red bandana on his head was nearly falling off from how frantic he was managing the meats. I followed him and pointed to the various picks of barbequed meats that he picked out with a pair of tongs for me. Sam was the fun dad and the one I enjoyed being around the most. Grant was more of the disciplinarian. “Here you go, daughter. How’s life been?”
“Good. Been working a lot,” I answered, taking the plate from him. After conversing for a little bit about my shop and telling him Grandma was arriving here early after closing the shop for the day, I moved on to my father, Wesley, who was wincing as the hot grill smoke floated to his eyes.
“Why hello there, Lanny,” he greeted me. He was the most affectionate, soft-hearted father. He hated to see me in tears and spoiled me rotten. He rubbed his hand through his blond hair- which mainly had turned white as he struggled to turn the meat on the grill.
“Are you okay there?” I asked him with a smile. Sam took over the barbeque, and Wesley breathed out a long sigh of relief.
“I hate this,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m probably the only alpha dad in the world who hates doing barbeque. It’s just so hot and messy.”
I laughed, and we both stopped when we heard fireworks above us.
“Ooh, they’re already starting the fireworks,” I said. “I’m going to find Mom and everyone else. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Sounds good.”
I walked further into the park, seeing foldable chairs everywhere and people setting up blankets on the ground. I spotted my mother, Tiana, talking with her best friends, Keera and Vanessa, sitting on a large checkered blanket. Around them were plates of food their alphas brought for them.
My sisters Roxanne and Sarah were sitting on the blanket next to them.
