Panic.

The howls came again; they sounded closer this time. My chest felt tight, and I froze in the middle of the path, my eyes darting to the shadows between the trees.

It wasn’t just one. There had to be at least three that I could hear. Maybe more. Wolves, real wolves, out here, in the dark. They were probably hungry. Natural-born predators. And me? I was just a scared, human-sized snack. They would smell me, chase me, and tear me apart before I even had a chance to run.

No. No, no, no.

The next howl was so close I swore I felt it rattle my bones. That was it. I was out of here. So I ran, faster than I ever had.

Branches slapped across my face as I ran through the woods, stinging as they cut my skin. I was panting heavily, struggling to catch my breath. But I didn’t care. I just had to keep moving.

Behind me, I heard the padding of paws. My legs pushed harder and faster, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I knew I’d never be fast enough.

The forest blurred around me, shadows and moonlight flashing before me as I sprinted blindly through the undergrowth. My heart raced in my chest so loudly I thought it might explode. The stings on my face burned where branches had opened up thin lines of blood, and I could feel it trickling down my cheek, sticky and wet. I didn’t dare wipe it away.

Keep going. Just keep going.

The padding behind me grew louder. Closer. Whatever it was, it wasn’t losing me. Panic consumed me. My lungs screamed, my legs burned, but I pushed harder, tears streaking down my face as I stumbled over roots and rocks.

Then my foot caught on something buried in the dirt, a root, a rock. I didn’t know what it was, and suddenly I was airborne, and seconds later, my head slammed hard against the earth. White-hot pain exploded through my skull. Stars burst across my vision, blinding me. My body felt weightless, then heavy, then nothing at all. The last thing I heard was the pounding of paws, closing in.

And then, I was met with darkness.

---

I woke to the warmth of the sun’s rays burning across my eyelids. I groaned and turned my head, the movement sending a jolt of pain through my skull. My eyes fluttered open, and the trees swam into view above me, the thick branches stretching against the bright blue sky.

I was still in the woods.

My stomach lurched. I sat up too quickly and the world tilted sideways, with black spots dancing at the edges of my vision. My hand flew to my forehead, and I winced as my fingers brushed over a hard, swollen lump just above my temple. Right where I must’ve slammed into the ground.

Every inch of my body ached. My head throbbed, and my knees screamed as I shifted to sit properly. Looking down, I saw the scrapes, jagged and bloody, with dirt pressed into the wounds.

But worse than the pain was the panic. I never made it home. My chest tightened, breath catching in my throat. I didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was already high. I’d overslept. I’d missed chores. I’d missed making breakfast. A cold sweat broke out along the back of my neck. My parents would be furious.

I pictured the disappointment etched on my father’s face, the angry words, and the punishments that always followed when I failed. My stomach dropped. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin.

With shaking hands, I pushed myself to my feet. The world spun, my knees wobbling under me, but I forced myself to stand tall. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Lunchtime yesterday, maybe. I’d planned to sneak a bit of pie or a plate someone didn’t finish at the diner, but after what happened… yeah, that hadn’t been an option. My boss had his eyes on me all night after the incident.

Now my stomach gnawed at itself, and the thought of walking home on nothing but fumes made me want to cry. I bent down, wincing at the pull in my muscles, and grabbed my backpack where it had landed. Brushing the dirt off, I slung it over my sore shoulders and rubbed at my raw, stinging knees.

Just get home, I told myself. Face whatever’s waiting for you.

I swallowed hard and started moving. Each step was slow, and my body was trembling; it was practically screaming at me to stop, but my fear was pushing me forward. My legs carried me out of the woods and down the sidewalk that led toward our street.

And then I saw it. Our driveway. Both cars parked neatly, side by side. My breath caught in my throat. The curtains in the front window were open. That was my job. Every morning, it was my responsibility to open the curtains, let the light in, and make the house look “presentable.” If they were already pulled back, that meant someone else had done it. That meant someone had been up. That meant they’d noticed I wasn’t there.

Dread settled heavily in my stomach.

I climbed the front steps, my knees trembling, as my hand hovered over the doorknob, my heart raced so hard and fast I thought I might explode. Before I could touch it, the door yanked open.

My father stood there with a dark and imposing demeanor. His jaw was ticking, his eyes blazing with fury. He didn’t say a word.

He just stepped aside, slowly, holding the door open, his hand gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles turned white.

That silence was worse than yelling. Worse than any words he could have thrown at me. My throat went dry. My body locked up. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but there was nowhere to go.

I knew I was in for it. And I was officially terrified.