Misty

[6] To The Woods

Just a week ago, Gran and I were sharing our sorrows with lemonade and sunlight out in the backyard in afternoons. Now, from past two days since my birthday, we couldn't get out of the house in fear of any bad thing that could happen to us.

The moment Pete left, Lexi and Ryan came and handled a worried Gran and me, a sobbing mess. They had heard everything and couldn't see because of their windows being straight in front. I was thankful for that. Next whole day, I didn't have the guts to meet Gran's eyes who seemed way too scared for any tragedy coming. But I knew what she was fearing for.

Her death.

But Gran being Gran, couldn't see my pain so she gulped down her fear and made my favorite dishes, telling me to celebrate that she was alive enough to see me reaching my eighteenth summer. That was a funny taunt from her, but I was highly scared.

These two nights I tried to dream of a parallel world where I had a beautiful family, a human family. Instead, werewolves were dancing in my dreams, rolling me on the top of flames, cooking me. No matter how much I was trying to distract myself, the fear of worse wasn't going.

We were paranoid.

Even now, I had a magazine full of advertisements for business schools and Universities in my hand, sitting on the couch, with TV on. But my mind was still filled with Mom's hurtful expression and the fact that I was the cause of it. Did I know her enough to guess that she cared for my anger? Would she come trying to convince me for a patch up? Did I want her to come?

Honestly, yes.

A scream escaped my mouth at the sudden hand on my leg. I was shaken while Gran winced at my outburst, "Jeez, Gran. Warn me at least."

No reply came from her.

I shifted on the couch, putting the magazine away, waiting for her to say something. "Gran?" I couldn't help asking at seeing her staring into some far land.

"Misty." Gran chuckled humorlessly. "Did I ever tell you how you got your name?"

I shook my head, even though she wasn't looking.

"There was a mere grunt. A grunt of anger, sadness, revenge and so much pain."Gran 's eyes filled up as she recalled, "After, killing my son. That fucking-Gilbert, had bitten your mother here," she pointed at her neck.

I gulped the saliva that collected in disgust at the imagery that formed.

"Malina was writhing, struggling but then, the old love consumed her. It was visible in her eyes when he pulled away from her and showed her his bloodied canines. But just then, she had passed out. I was stunned from seeing my only son's death and I remember I had little old you in my arms." She sniffled, her eyes blurry from the tears. "He came towards my powerless body on the floor, holding you anyhow. A cruel monster like him forwarded his head, his canines on display. He looked at you, observed you and sniffed you."

Shivers ran down my spine.

"Immediately, he had pulled back and spit your mother's blood in anger near my feet. His eyes flashing golden glares at me."

"Mist," he roared. "Mist."

For the first time in this conversation, Gran met my eyes. I shuddered as she said, "He started laughing like a true monster. He pointed his finger at your little form and laughed in my face, showing me his bloody teeth."

I rubbed my palm over my thighs absentmindedly in suspense.

"Her name's Misty, he laughed. I want you to call her Misty."

My lips parted in utter self-pity. "Why?"

She shook her head. "I neither asked, nor he told. I had told him to kill me. to let me go where my son was." Her voice cracked along with a tear from her eye. "But he wanted you alive and to take care of you, he kept me alive."