The Child You Never Believed
My mother never believed me. To her, I was always just a lying pup.
In my pack, every cub wore a Moon Oath Collar.
Red meant you lied. White meant you told the truth.
My sister’s collar always glowed a soft white.
Even when she pretended to be sick to get out of an exam, her collar only gave off that gentle white light.
Mine was different.
Even when I was truly sick, my collar would burst into a violent red, and the punishment current would follow immediately.
On my sister’s birthday, Mother prepared a bonfire feast for the whole pack. Just before they left, a splitting pain tore through my head, and I collapsed on the floor, begging her to help me.
For one second, she almost picked me up.
Then my collar flashed red.
“To ruin your sister’s birthday, you’re even pretending to die? What a vicious child.”
Then she walked out with my sister and left me alone on the floor.
I died alone on the cold floor.
But when I opened my eyes again, I was no longer inside my body.
My soul drifted after my mother as I whispered the truth she had never believed.
“Mom… I wasn’t lying. I really died.”
And when they finally found my body, the red collar on my neck was still flashing.