Luna Raine

XII. Specist

The school wasn't the same without Cory.

I can tell the student body was disappointed that one of their best athletics and friends was gone.

"Stupid wolf school taking everything."

"Stupid council giving those stupid wolves everything."

"I hate them. I hate them. I hate them."

The depression at school was at an all-time high.

But, the worst reaction comes from the chattering girl beside me. I lean against the lockers and smile, pretending I did not see the puffy eyes or red cheeks. The makeup on her face was piled, attempting to hide the inevitable. Her hair was tied back to escape the frizzed. I could ask her if everything is okay, but it would be best not to do it. Not to release another burst of negative emotions.

I laugh at what she said. Even if the laughter was fake, it was something she needed—some joy in the misery around us. Everyone was a constant reminder that her best friend left. How her best friend left to go to a dangerous school. How her best friends could die at any second.

She doesn't need that.

Notably, from me.

I couldn't deny it. How my past actions undoubtedly lead us to where we are now. Cory said he chose to do this, and he reassures me that helping me go home was only secondary to making his parents proud. But, I knew my depression plays a role in his decision. I moped more than necessary, and it was shown through my eyes.

I work so hard to justify it. But, my subconscious only got more demanding, and it hurts. I talked to the soccer team, and there weren't any bets. No one signed up for the program. Cory's parents didn't pressure him into doing it either. It was all an excuse. Did he genuinely want to do it? Or did he do it for me? And in any possibility, he did it for me. He shouldn't. He shouldn't help someone he barely knew for a year. Not to this extent, at least.

My head hurts.

I'm tired of the fake smile on my face. Helen held me, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not making me sad."

Steadily, I pat her back. I wish I could do more, but in reality, I couldn't.

I'm at a standstill.

I can't go anywhere without fear that someone will kill me.

I can't do anything due to the lack of power.

I knew the reason why. It's because I'm afraid.

I'm afraid of leaving the comfort zone.

Whenever I have a plan of leaving the human community, these thoughts would appear.

What if someone kidnaps me again?

What if I get lost?

What if a monster kills me?

What if no one comes looking for me?

These negative thoughts would continuously cycle inside my mind. In reality, there is some truth to it. If someone took me. If I got lost. If I died. No one would come looking for me.

Helen and Cory?

Wouldn't they simply move on?

Similar to how they witness a corpse vampire.

They moved on.

Maybe, I'm undervaluing my existence in their lives, but perhaps I'm not.

So many thoughts swirl inside my mind, and I felt sicker by the day. I hate it—these negative thoughts.

"Are you okay?" Wolfie asks through the headset.

I shook my head and continued playing the game. "Yeah. Wh-" It's been such a long time since I had witnessed this that I forgot how it looked like.

"Because you just died," Wolfie said. "You never died."

I sat in the darkness and stared at the blinking light. The ones that express my death in an unexisting world. Or perhaps, it's all inside my mind, and the world that I'm witnessing does indeed exist. I've been coming up with more and more theories each day.

"I-I-I'm okay," I said. The remote falls on top of the blanket. My toes curl underneath it, and I exhale into the palm of my hand.

"Something is wrong," he replies. "What's wrong-"

"For god sake. Exchange numbers. Go into a private chat. Some of us-" I cut off the other players—all other players except Wolfie.

"I'm fine, Wolfie. I just-" I exhale, "I'm just-" It felt exhausting, the words continue to jumble inside my mouth.

"You can tell me, you know," he said softly. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

I close my eyes, and my head digs further into the edge of the sofa. The colorful screen became the only light inside the living room. "Do you know the whole Selection Day crap?"

"Yeah. Humans and hunters enrolled in a werewolf school."

"Well-" I smack my lips, "one of my friends, a great one, got selected."

"Congrats."

"And I felt like he went because of me."

There's a long pause on the other end. "What makes you think that?"

"Because he's a good guy and guys like him want to help pitiful girls. Right now, I'm a pitiful girl."

Wolfie exhales, "Don't say that."

"I have a problem, and he's sacrificing himself in a school full of mons-" I stop realizing who I'm speaking to.

"We're not all monsters," Wolfie said. "We're not all bad, you know."

I sat upward, "Wolfie. That's not what I-"

"I mean, we do have a bad temperament." He attempts to laugh it off. "But, we aren't as bad as everyone said we are. Well, at least the majority of us."

"I'm not saying all of you are bad."

"But, you feel that way, don't you?" It stung—the tone of his voice.

I want to explain it to him. Why I think the way I did. How one day, I woke up in a world filled with humans. Then, the next, I arrived in a world where mythical creatures are real. My mind still cannot wrap around the idea. How every time I saw something that is deemed normal in this world still scared me.

He exhales, "I don't know why you feel the way you do. But, give us the benefit of the doubt."

"I'm sorry."

"Who are you apologizing to?"

"I'm apologizing. That's it. It was my mistake."

"The mistake from what you said, or are you apologizing merely because you got caught for what you said."

"I didn't mean what I said to you."

"Because I'm a werewolf, you apologized. What if you were speaking to another human. Would you apologize? Or would you feel comfortable discussing this with another human."

"You're acting like a prick right now," I spat out.

"No, I'm stating the facts. You only apologized because I'm a werewolf. You wouldn't feel sorry for what you said if I was a human or a witch or another creature. You wouldn't have apologized at all for calling us monsters."

I was too stunned to attempt a rebuttal.

"Apologies are a course to clear the conscience. It's equivalent to nothing if you don't truly feel it. Understand it."

I close my eyes, "Please, don't do this to me." I hid deeper into my hands. "Not now."

I don't need this. A crash course on how I shouldn't be racist. Yes, racist. That would be the word I would use in my world. Here, it would've been called specist—discrimination in favor of one species over another. I favored humans because it's a type of species I know - a familiarity.

I'm evaluating all other species based on what others tell me - which isn't good. Humans dislike other creatures, particularly werewolves. Werewolves were the first kind that made an appearance and started this colossal war back in the days. I learned about it in history class. Let's say even my teacher wasn't holding back his emotions toward werewolves.

One thing that seems to be consistent in both worlds is that everyone tends to be more comfortable with their own kinds. In my world, racism is huge. Here, it's specist.

"I'm sorry about off-ing you."

I chuckle, "Clearing your conscience?"

"And understanding my wrongdoings," he includes.

"Look, I grew up surrounded by humans," I said. "You're the first werewolf I talked to, and I'm still scared shitless to talk to you sometimes."

"Why?"

"Because you're a werewolf. Someone with features of a human, but you can shift into a giant wolf. That's not normal. Not in my world, at least."

"Let me show you," he said. "I can show you that not all werewolves are scary."

"How?"

"Little Piglet, let's meet each other."