The White Wolves

Arming

Maya

The tattoo, the first successful one they gave me, did not repulse me as the others that had failed did. In a way, if it wasn't for the consequences of what I had come to think of as my ink sensitive skin, I think I would have rather liked the way it looked. It twisted down my bicep from my shoulder, the dreaded tattoo artist gave up on most of her designs after about five attempts but I had been unable to hide the overwhelming disgust some of them caused me. That was how they had found this particular design, showed me at least a hundred designs until one didn't elicit the same reaction of the others. So here I sit, swirling lies of ink twining their way around my skin and each other in a strange dance of skin and darkness.

She told me what it was just before she left, long after it was permanently etched into my skin, I had been trying to work out while she was working but it wasn't until she told me that I realised... it was supposed to be the wind. A whole part of nature, distilled into a human creation on my body. Yet it made perfect sense.

Fatigue replaced the normal sudden onset of paralysis. It was as if I had run a marathon and not been stuck stationary in this cell for... well I had been given around 30 meals, purhapse 2 a day? Maybe less on a recovery day? If I am honest I had no knowledge of the passing of time, never before had I understood people when they told me time was just a concept, but I can say that I do now. As happy as I was not to be in pain, I missed my sacred time of human contact with the kindly doctors. Every time we had a period together we pushed the boundaries of the conversation, I now knew their names, Charlie and Molly, and that they shared a last name. Not out of luck or anything like that, they were married.

Thus my last thought was of them as I slipped into sleep and the transcendental realm of dreams pulled me back to another night I would rather forget. A night 4 years ago.

Blue light shone around the edge of the curtain, it oscillated in a way that both reassured me I was not going to be abducted by aliens but also brought about a concerning number of worries. Had I been in my bed at home the lights would have been nothing to worry about, when you live on a busy road the emergency services often went by in the night, but I wasn't at home. I was at my childminders, in her spare bedroom, and she lived on a residential street. There were two things that made the concern build enough for me to get out of bed:
The lights were not moving on, the vehicles must have stopped.
The doorbell just rang, at midnight, the time my 12 year old self had only previously dreamed about due to the BFG.

Out of habit, my small hands found the overly fluffy and teddy patterned dressing gown and tossed it to the floor to take my dressing gown from beneath it, the one that was supposed to make me look like I was wearing Iron Man's suit.

In hindsight, creeping down the stairs may not have been the best decision as the front door was directly at the bottom and the police officer that stood in the doorway talking under her breath to my childminder had a full view of me.

I recognised her at once as one of my Dad's colleagues and smiled but the expression soon dropped when I got nothing like it in return. She looked morose, like I did when I could rather be anywhere else in the universe than where I was. Still, dutifully, she raised a hand and beckoned me down the stairs, her hat was tucked under her arm.

She insisted I got comfortable before she would explain anything and it would have been maddening if Clair -my childminder- hadn't made us both tea with the same expression as the officer. I unknowingly positioned myself opposite Dad's colleague on the pair of battered old sofas and the single armchair. She opened her mouth as is to speak before closing it once more.

Then she managed, as if she had thought of a good way to handle this, or had remembered her training, to speak, "Maya... have you seen the news these last few days?" The voice was comfortingly like my father's but that couldn't change my answer and confused glance to Clair, " No, um, why?" My voice felt so small in that moment, helpless. Winters, for that was the name I knew her by even if I couldn't recall her rank, gulped before continuing, "there has been an attack, an invasion, an alien invasion." She was going to continue but I naively cut her off, " Did Dad ask you to come protect me? From the aliens?" I was a smart child, but there are some possibilities the young brain is too innocent to consider. "No my darling," she comforted, she was so very Irish, "the attack was in New York... where your parents are at your mother's conference. It happened three days ago, on Sunday. Your parents went missing after the attack, the hotel reported then missing. The American authorities think that they have found some people who could be them." The subsequent pause was too long for a child not to fill, " Could be them? Can't you just ask them?"

The moment the words left my mouth the realisation hit me, it wasn't like a brick wall at all, more like slowly drowning in the truth.

Still Winters had to say it, " the authorities found bodies Maya... we need you to identify them with some pictures. I'm really sorry darling."

The Earth stopped spinning, the first of an ocean of tears created a cold track down my cheek. The unimaginable had suddenly become a reality.

(Sorry this is a tad short but I hope you enjoyed it!)