Promised to Wolves

enéa

I had not seen her smile in such a long time, I could not help the joy that burst from my heart as she laughed softly with the man beside her. We had no idea who he was, only that he was one of the hundreds of actors who lined the streets of the city, depicting scenes of battle and victory as people passed. Today was Dies Victoriae and everyone was celebrating. Even my mother.

Clapping my hands as a group of musicians picked up their instruments and began to play, I dragged my mother into the centre of the square and took her by her soft hands, forcing her to twirl with me.

"Artemis, stop!" she cried, a flustered look on her face. "You know I can't dance!"

My own laughter was like a breath of fresh air as I lifted my arms in the air and gave her an ungraceful spin. "Neither can I," I pointed out, fumbling with my feet as I attempted to copy the folk dance many were dancing. "But who cares! Today is a day to have fun and get a little drunk so join me!"

Raising the small flask of whisky I had hidden in a pocket in my dress, I took a gulp and then tipped my head back and whooped. I felt so free and so happy that I was able to forget about the events of the past year and relax, soaking in the joyful atmosphere of the festival. And so, I did not notice the broken look in my mother's eyes as she recalled the way she used to dance with my father like this.

The dream suddenly shifted as the music died, replaced with screaming and the unnerving whistling of an arrow slicing through the air. My whole body shook as I slowly looked down to see warm, sticky blood coating my hands and staining my skirt. Collapsing onto my knees, I reached out to the gaping wound in my mother's chest, gently teasing the arrow out in the vain hope it would save her life.

"No," I murmured, tears streaming down my face as I watched her struggle for breath. "No, no, no, no, no. It's just a dream. This is just a dream."

Her cold, dead eyes snapped up to stare at me and I fumbled backwards, unnerved by the callous look on her face. "You killed me," she croaked. "You let me die. YOU KILLED ME!"

"I did everything I could to save you," I pleaded desperately, but she would not listen.

"YOU KILLED ME! YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER! IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Covering my ears with my hands to drown out the noise of her relentless screaming, I rocked back and forth and squeezed my eyes tightly, waiting for this nightmare to end. And it did, but not in the way I hoped. Instead, the voice changed, turning from the soft, sweet voice of my mother to the rich, warm tone I instantly recognised as Marcella.

"Why did you let me open that door?" she accused as soon as I opened my eyes to see why the shrieking had fallen silent. My stomach lurched as I saw the blood dripping from her neck and I looked down to see another arrow clutched in my right hand. "I trusted you! Why did you let me die? Why?"

Tears streamed down my face as I felt her cold, bony fingers latch around my throat and I did not fight her when she began to squeeze tightly and trap the air in my lungs.

"It should have been you! You have no one; no one who cares if you live or die. It is not fair! I hate you! You killed my promised, you RUINED OUR LIVES!"

Sweat poured down my face as I awoke with a muffled cry, clasping my hands over my mouth to hide my heavy, erratic breathing. I felt as though I had been doused in icy cold water and then roasted over the hottest fire imaginable. Every nerve in my body was screaming at me and my brain could not process it. 

I could not think; I could not move. I could barely even breathe.

It took time - too much time - to slow my breathing and heart rate enough that I could begin to unclasp my stiff fingers from over my mouth. However, when I pulled them away, they were laced with warm, sticky blood from when I had clamped my teeth down on my lips and the sight of it made me freeze.