gone girl | dean thomas (1)

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IN SPITE OF WHAT GRIFFIN TELLS JENNY, she remembers what happened. She remembers every sound, every crunching branch. She remembers every obstacle in her way, ever hill she ran down, every tree she maneuvered. She remembers the feeling in her chest. The rush, an adrenaline she never should of experienced. She remembered her breath remaining steady, but her legs aching from the constant movement in her joints. Silver shined down onto the woods, giving light to the dark night. Not that she need it; she could see just fine. She remembers not feeling cold in the midst of February. Normally she would shiver and pull her coat around her tighter, but the coat she had on was skin tight. But before all that, she felt the pain.

She remembered her gums swelling, sharp canines forming in her mouth. She remembered her skin burning as a thick coat of fur hovered over her pale skin. She could still feel the tightness in her throat as her bones cracked and shifted, the pain only dulling once she had 4 feet and claws. What she remembers most of all was the feeling of losing control. It was a thrill as she broke through her chains and broke open the door of the cellar. A rush of excitment. Of anger. Of power. Because her body was like lightning, unstoppable. And the first thing she smelt was the blood of her prey. Her golden eyes darkened as her lips snarled up. The hunt had began.

The creature prowled through the forest quiet as a shadow, quick as a snake, its ears perking up at every sound. It could hear foot steps not far away, it could hear them even better when they started to run away. It only gave the creature a rush. Because in those moments, she wasn't human. She was a predator hunting its pray. Except she wasn't hungry. No, no, no. She was angry. In that moment, she didn't know who she was. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know that the person who screamed and cried and begged for help was the same girl she would play with on the playground. And what that girl didn't know was that the animal that was chasing her was also her friend, who was now playing a deadly game of chase. All it took was one bite, Griffin remembered, to stop the crying. 

And she remembered the next morning. She remembered feeling a tightness in her chest that wouldn't go away for a long time, the taste of fresh blood in her mouth. She remembered lying to Jenny, who sat her down and asked if she knew what happened. She remembered Jenny lying to her, telling Griffin that her friend had gotten attacked by a lynx in the middle of the night. But there was no lynx, only a wolf out of control. She didn't tell Jenny she remembers what happened that night because she didn't want to tell Jenny she remembers being a monster.