Learning To Trust Again

Chapter 3

When my imprisonment first began I used to daydream about the outside world constantly. I would crave to feel the sunlight again, the way it'd warm me as I laid on a big blanket in my backyard I'd endlessly try to recall the rich earthy scents of my pack's territory that used to surround and calm me. The desire to be with nature one last time was strong, but as time passed the desire wilted away and reality set in. Now years later, the yearn for nature is being reawakened but only to be used as a form of torture. Sitting in the far right corner of my cell I rub my hands up and down repeatedly on my upper thighs as my anxiety takes control of me.

I won't be able to outrun them. They're all faster and stronger than me. There's no way out of this. Just like a broken record these thoughts persistently loop in my mind and I'm unequipped to stop them. As my anxiety increases an extreme wave of nausea hits me and I try to refrain from puking. Puking would only cause me to waste the food I was given early, and I'm uncertain of when I'll be fed again. My broken ribs leave me capable of inhaling short shallow breaths, but unable to take deep breaths to calm myself. In this state, only feelings of hopelessness and fear are present because in mere hours my pack will be hunting me.

One massive disadvantage I have is even thought I'm 18 years old and most werewolves shift at ages 14 to 15 years old I haven't. The constant weak state, my body is in has prevented me from shifting. All the pack members who'll be hunting me will be able to shift into their wolf form. Also, I don't know my pack's territory very well, and that's something each pack member learns in their adolescent years. I'll have no sense of direction while I'm being hunted making most of my efforts useless.

Suddenly I'm reminded of the earlier years down here and how I used to map out escape plans. I used to spend all of my time away from Dale and the pack to create these elaborate escape plans for any time I had a chance to escape. After each beating, I'd chant to myself quieting "I'm going to escape" and wholeheartedly I believed I would escape. However as time went on there was never a solid opportunity presented to escape from my brother and pack, so the belief died off. I think of my past self, 13-year-old me, and how invested they'd be in planning some elaborate escape plan. The hope I possessed at 13 years old is long gone; does this mean Dale won? I've given up on escaping this nightmare instead of trying to find a way out, and this is what Dale's wanted all along.

Am I letting him win? Or has he already won? I don't want him to win, but I can't seem to win against him. So Dale's already won...right since I can't win against him? Or has he not won yet but will if I give up now? Internally I'm at war with my thoughts, but something is progressively being revealed to me. Bening hunted by Dale and the pack might be the opportunity my 13-year-old self had been searching for. Since being locked down here I've never been taken outside or let alone out of my cell, but that's changing now. Giving up now I could miss the only chance offered out of this cell, and that's what would allow Dale to win.

With a new sense of clarity, not allowing myself to give up yet, I begin laying down an efficient escape plan. Werewolves depend on their sense of smell too much, especially when trying to track someone or something. In my elementary school days demonstrations were held to teach us tactics we could use in dangerous situations as children. One demonstration was specifically over how werewolves track using mainly their sense of smell.

I remember a teacher saying to my class, "Okay pups, the next thing we're going to be talking about is how important a werewolf's sense of smell is when tracking. Since you're all too little to outrun a big bad werewolf you'll instead get all....muddy!"

My class and I had laughed at that because it sounded so silly to hear our teacher tell us to do such a thing, but our teacher continued, "Getting muddy will make it hard to smell you so that a big bad werewolf can't find you." This tactic works fairly when anything is trying to be tracked by smell, and it could allow some extra time to create distance between the pack and me. Another tactic I was taught as a child was to climb a tree of some sort, as a method of short-term hiding. I'm unsure of how well I can climb a tree currently but there'll be no harm in trying, compared to the injuries I receive already.