A Philosophy Of Walking

He caught hold of her leg and yanked backwards. She hung on and flailed both legs, kicking him in the head, the face. He fought to hold her legs down. Sweat lathered her hands. They slipped from the post. He yanked again. She rolled over to face him and punched with both fists. Her right fist caught him in the eye. He growled in pain, then threw himself on top of her, pinning her arms and legs. She screamed.She strained to free herself, lunged up to bite him. He jerked backwards. They slid down one stair. She tried to scream again. He slapped a palm over her mouth, his breath hot on her face.She fought him until they had tumbled down every stair. By the time they reached the bottom, every ligament burned. She stared at him wide-eyed, gasping for breath between his bruising fingers.She trembled violently, longed to run again but knew it would do no good. He stood at a good seven inches taller and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She didn't stand a chance.All she could do now was placate him. Do what he wanted... no matter what it was!

Wulver Pack Series: 1 (standalone) I run. It’s just who I am. Whenever things get tough, I bail. Every new situation I find myself in, I have an exit strategy. Because I know what could happen if I don’t. Things are about to get bad, and I don’t understand how or why. I’ve developed a life for myself where no one could suspect a thing out of the ordinary. I fit in - or at least try to. But here I am, ready to run. Let’s just hope I do so in time. *** I didn’t ask to be in these shoes. In fact, I was thoroughly looking forward to a life of little more than personal responsibility. I never saw my future tied to this place, no matter how much it is a part of me. The position was thrust upon me, though, and with no one else to step up, I had no choice. I do love it here. These are my people - my family - and this is my home. I couldn’t turn my back, even if I wanted to. That’s a type of betrayal I would never be able to stomach. If things had gone how they were supposed to, none of this would have fallen in my lap. Now that we’ve made it through the adjustment of transition of power, I am happy this is how my life has ended up, and my people are, too. Any semblance of my plans years ago have fallen by the wayside, but that’s just the nature of the beast - and I am the beast. Times are changing. I can feel it in my bones. I just hope we are ready, and I am capable of protecting those that are relying on me.

Mom said I needed to toughen up, so she made me walk home alone. "You're ten. Everyone else can do it. Why can't you? If you were even half as capable as your cousin, I wouldn't have to worry so much." I shook my head and signed, [I can't hear. Crossing streets isn't safe.] She gave me that look. Total disappointment. Then she walked off with my cousin, Sadie. What Mom didn't know was that before school let out, Sadie had stopped me. Said she was helping Mom make me independent. Then she snatched my hearing aid. Now the whole world was silent. I followed the crowd down the sidewalk. At a small intersection, a car spun out, horn blaring. Everyone scattered. Everyone but me. I couldn't hear it. My spirit rose above the street. Below, my body lay in a pool of blood. Mom... Sorry. I couldn't do this independence thing.

I have a poor sense of direction. I can go to the same place ten times and still not know how to get there. So, Aimee Thornton spends an entire week putting all the streets around school into a hand-drawn map for me. There are no directions on the map, only places named "The Convenience Store With the Yellow Dog at the Door" and "The Old Man Who Sells Terrible Tacos". She ruffles my hair and muses, "How is this one going to survive without me?" But everything changes when our friend, Dean Sullivan, comes home from abroad. During our trip, Aimee tells me to get out of the car and check if we've skidded. My feet have just touched the ground when the car speeds off. She texts me the next second. "There's a rest area about three miles ahead. Dean and I will wait for you there. Dean has a point. You'll never get over your poor sense of direction if I don't give you a push." I end up trekking through the torrential downpour for an hour, desperate and panicking. Aimee suddenly sends me a hand-drawn map with an arrow, and she's added a cute smiley face beside it. "Follow the map, and you'll be there in 20 minutes." Alas, I walk until my calves ache, only for the road to narrow and cut off in a dead end. I call Aimee, but Dean's lighthearted laughter greets me instead. "Hey, man, congratulations on taking the wrong way! "I made a bet with Aimee that you wouldn't notice the arrow she'd drawn on the map was deliberately pointing in the opposite direction. As it turns out, I know you better than she does. "And that means I'm the only one she gets to hang out with for the rest of the trip, since having you tag along will be too much trouble." I hear Aimee's indulgent laugh going off beside him. "A bet's a bet. Whatever you say goes, Dean." The price of codependency is too much for me—so much so that I'll be lost if Aimee decides to up and leave me. I wipe my tears dry. I want to find my way alone this time.

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.

Since his childhood, Vicky skillfully navigated intricate family dynamics and romantic relationships with people of all ages. He held a steadfast belief that every problem had a solution, and his experiences had only reinforced this conviction. However, he learned to discern when to offer advice, recognizing that some individuals are too stubborn to listen. While his journeys taught him valuable lessons, he remained unwavering in his commitment to his principles and values. Vicky's ultimate goal was to bring joy and relief to others, but he often found himself torn between conflicting desires. Throughout his life's adventures, he remained a loyal companion, always striving to support and empower those around him, regardless of gender. Even when others sought to exploit his kindness, expertise, and experiences, he remained steadfast, refusing to compromise his values. His insatiable curiosity sometimes led him into unavoidable challenges and problems, but ultimately, his lifetime achievements became a beacon of inspiration for others, a testament to his unwavering dedication to his principles and his unrelenting pursuit of joy. His life's purpose was dedicated to the serive of humanity, the core of his being.