The Year of the Wolf (Completed) (Book One of The Almair Series)

Chapter 1 (Edited)

"I'm home," I yelled, walking into the back door. I waited for someone to say 'Hi Martha', but no one did, meaning that they were out of the house, again. I sighed, wishing someone would be home for my fifteenth birthday and not wherever they go when they're not at home.  I shook my head, before I took my bag off my shoulders placed it on a hook, by the back door, labeled 'Martha'.

Normal children, coming home from school, would be asked 'if they had any homework', or 'how was their day', but my family was different. They would leave at odd variables during the day. Sometimes, they would be back at midnight, or they would be back the following day or night. Some days, they would just be at home only for meals and such.

So, basically I was mostly on my own, which was a good thing, because I had 7 older siblings. That meant, I was the youngest of the eight kids, with three sets of twins in the middle of me and my oldest brother, John. The ages ranged from 19 to 15, making us really close to age.

A joke that my mother loved to tell, was when we, or those that ranged from 1 1/2 to newborn, when she changed one of us, then she changed all of us. It was a good thing that we were almost exactly a year apart or Mom and Dad started us potty training at the age of two, because they would've had to deal with a lot of dirty diapers.

I sighed, again and looked out the window to the backyard, wanting to go down there. Something had usually called me when I was younger, but it was stronger now than it had been. However, I didn't know why I wasn't allowed, even though the rest of my family was.

It sucks being the baby, I thought with a scowl on my face. It really sucks.

The backyard was huge and spacious, with a lot of trees, but I wasn't allowed to be back there. My mom had said it was because I wasn't ready to be back there. I didn't know what she meant by that, but I wasn't going to ask her.

Dark ember eyes stared up into my startling blue ones, making me gasp in surprise. I backed up and tripped over nothing but air, crashing into the table, while knocking some chairs down. "That's going to leave a mark," I groaned, checking myself for any broken bones. There were no broken bones, but a mark on my wrist, which wasn't there yesterday, was darker than it had been this morning.

I groaned out and picked up the chairs, before I went to the restroom, wanting to again try and scrub the mark away. However, like the other multiple times I've done it, it stayed put and left the skin around it red, because I had tried so hard to get it off. "What does this thing mean?" I asked, knowing that no one would answer me.

"Martha?" my oldest brother, John, called out, knocking on the door. John was 19, and he had straight black hair and brown eyes. He stood at 6'3 and was the tallest out of the Johnson children. Like all Johnsons, he was skinny with a muscular built. He had tan skin, which all my other brothers and sisters had.

There was a way that people could tell we were related. Why? It was because we all looked a like. We all had black hair, even though it ranged from straight to curly. We also had brown eyes that were almond shaped. Another thing was that we were all skinny, with a muscular built and had a nice tan, even in the summer.

Well, there was one problem with the whole "we", and that was because of me. Unlike my family, I had pale blue eyes, even though they were also almond shaped and blonde, wavy hair. Like my family, I was skinny, but not as muscular as they are. Another thing that was different about me, was the fact that I had light, almost pale, skin, and I didn't get tan in the summer. So, basically I was the odd one in the family. I wasn't the shortest, that being my older sister Julie, nor was I short. I stood at 5'8 while Julie stood at 5'6.

All my other brothers and sisters picked on me, because I looked different from them, except for John. Good, good old John had my three brothers and three sisters under control when he was around, but when he wasn't, they picked on me. However, I think there was another why they picked on me so, but I don't know what it was about.

"Martha," John called out, sounding rather impatient. He knocked on the door again. "I know that you are in there."

I sighed, not liking that I didn't get any privacy when I needed it the most. "Coming." I pulled my shirt sleeve down to my wrist and came out of the bathroom, looking up at my brother. "It's all yours," I said, gesturing to the bathroom.

He folded his arms across his chest and looked me in the eye, making me squirm a little under is hard gaze. "What were you doing in there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I mimicked his pose and raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't doing anything, except for washing my hands. It is the flu season, you know," I said, setting my jaw out. I was being stubborn, and he knew that he couldn't get anything out of me when I was stubborn.

"Oh, I see a lot of Mom in you." He chuckled and shook his head, losing his hard gaze.

"Speaking of which, where is she, and where were you when I got home?" I asked, frowning slightly.

It was his turn to squirm under my gaze. A frown was on his face, and I knew that he was uncomfortable about something. "Are you hungry? Because I sure am," he said. As he spoke, a smell of chicken came from the kitchen.

"You're changing the subject, aren't you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He squirmed some more and didn't meet my gaze. This confirmed my suspicions about him changing the subject, because he was usually blunt and direct with me. "No, I am saying that the food is ready, so let's go," he said, moving towards the dining room.

I sighed and followed him to the dining room, shaking my head. I had a feeling that my questions would be answered soon. I didn't know that they would've been answered sooner than I had thought possible.