Ph***e
I stood erect as my hands made their way to the markings of the wall, carefully rewriting an almost erasing line that ran vertically. With my inside raging in anger, I slashed a horizontal line against the four vertical lines before I placed both hands on my head, screaming my lungs out and destroying everything within my reach.
I took two steps away from the wall that I had marred with tally marks while counting the number of the days I had spent in the past since there were no calendars and tally marks were the only method I could adopt in order not to lose count of the number of days I had spent.
I needed to leave this place as I was already sick of it and the mere thought of spending my forever here makes me wish for death instead. But I had to come to the reality that there was no way I could leave the past, not when the portal to the present world had been sealed shut by a group of powerful witches. No one in the world could open the portal, not even a sorcerer… except… The Great Azura, mother of witches.
Searching for Azura was like searching for a god, for all my toiling had yielded fruitlessness. Legends had it that Azura The Great appeared only once a year, in any form, as a shooting star, a butterfly, an animal, sometimes, invincible. The best time to see her was at midnight on New year’s eve. She would be riding on her broom in all her glory, across the bright full Moon.
Some rumours said that she was immortal as a result of the great powers she possessed while some had it that she had died a long time ago but her spirit lives on.
I had kept my hope alive for a hundred and sixty years. Every New year’s eve, out of desperation, I waited for Azura to reverse the spell and take me to the present world where I belonged, but every new year’s eve, I waited in vain.
Was Azura dead?
It better not be because I would slaughter those incompetent fools that said she was very much alive.
Maybe Azura appeared in an insignificant form that I didn’t take note or maybe she was invincible.
Or maybe she hates me as the rest of the world does. Too many maybes!
I was always on the verge of giving up, but the scary thought of staying in the past to rot when I had a life in the present geared me. I needed to break this spell and leave this place of torture.
My personal hell.
Thanks to Esmeralda for getting me trapped here, together with my disciples.
“Damn you, Esmeralda!” I cursed, sending things flying in the air as I kept flinging and destroying things that crossed my path.
I couldn’t keep calm, my whole body was on fire as I remembered the incident that made me get trapped in the past. How I couldn’t wait to see Esmeralda and ruin her life the way she ruined mine.
That bastard!
When I was a child, I had always been daddy’s little angel, the only apple of my daddy’s eyes, his only child. My father showered me with love and affection and made me feel like a princess, until one day.
My father spoilt me silly, loved me to a fault and made my life the easiest, I couldn’t ask for more. He gave me all I wanted even before I asked and he never let me lack a thing. Everybody got jealous and wished they were in my shoes.
I couldn’t deny that I was a spoilt naughty brat that craved power and dominance even at a young age but who cares? Not me, not my dad.
I was from the Harper’s lineage, the lineage of one of the most powerful werewolves. I had all I wanted in my life; money, fame, dominance, authority, boys, and a complete happy family, except two things. Power and happiness.
My lack of power erased every bit of happiness within me.
Every firstborn of the Harper family possessed certain powers like controlling nature and having a melodious voice. The former was at the uppermost part of my mind as I was less concerned about the latter, I was okay with my voice.
A prophecy made by a witch that the first daughter of my father would be mated to the most powerful and most ferocious, coupled with the powers that firstborn possessed sent me wild.
I love ferocious!
I craved powers and more powers!
I love dominance!
How I couldn’t wait to possess those powers and use them at my disposal, making people tremble on their feet as they bow to me, their queen, their Luna.
Call me a power freak all you want, who cares?
I wanted to speak to the celestial sphere!
I wanted to seek refuge in the roaring wind!
I wanted to walk on water!
I wanted to be consumed in the fire without being consumed by the fire!
How foolish I was to be excited. The first sign of my powerlessness was the colour of my hair. My hair was supposed to be strawberry coloured so that my wolf fur would be the same, but here I was flaunting my caramel-coloured hair, still, I kept my hope alive, hoping my wolf fur would be strawberry.
Other wolves’ first shifts were filled with awes and mixed feelings, but mine was filled with anger, grief and hatred. It was one of the worst moments I had.
Having a brown wolf with a white and black strip made me furious!
How?
I was my father’s firstborn and only child.
My dad owed me an explanation!
I remembered walking home naked, feeling dejected and dispirited, ignoring the questionable looks from other wolves. All my hopes of becoming a ruthless Luna and possessing powers of mother nature were dashed. I woke up every morning, feeding my wolf with rage, increasing her appetite for blood and preparing her to be one of the ruthless wolves.
Day in, day out, revenge clouded my mind as I prepared for the battle ahead.
Esmeralda ripped me off my powers! Now she was going to pay dearly with her life.
I know you all don’t know who I am! Guess my name. Hahaha!