MOONLIGHT OMEGA

MACALAH'S POV

I woke to the sound of my alarm clock being as annoying as usual. I groaned and tossed the pillow on top of my head to block out the screeching.

My hand frantically searched for the snooze button. It stopped finally for only a few minutes; it was then that I turned it off.

I rolled back over onto my back, running my fingers down my face, reminiscing about my weird dream.

The men I saw were breathtakingly handsome. I could not remember much of their looks, but only their eyes really. But I was used to the dream that had been replaying for the past few days.

Ever since it appeared during my sleep, I haven't been sleeping much because of its recurrence. It felt so real, but men who looked as they did are a confirmation that it wasn't. A figment of my imagination.

Especially their eyes.

It was only a dream, I would tell myself, but the words still bewildered me; 'You have a choice be wise about it' what did that mean? I played it off as watching too much TV, maybe something I watched from one of my friends forcing me into watching some drama show.

But there was something else in those words that made me afraid; it signified something I did not know of. I have told no one about the dream. I felt as if they would judge me and tell me I was crazy. I probably was.

So deep in my thought I could feel my eyes closing, drifting off to sleep again. I quickly jumped out of bed, almost tripping onto the wall, to avoid having the weird dream again. From being even more shaken by those words.

I sauntered down the ugly carpeted stairs, rubbing my face with my fingers to keep awake the entire way down. Then through the ugly dining room and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

My bathroom wasn't big, nor was it pretty. It had a small toilet that always seemed to overflow or get clogged, a small foggy mirror over a granite counter.

It wasn't even positioned over the sink, so when I brushed my teeth I had to lean over to even see myself. The bathroom had been like that since I moved in several years ago, and my dad still has not done any renovations on the old house.

I did as I came to do, washed my face, brushed my teeth and took a moment to examine the girl in the mirror. Her hair was a long, tangled brown mess, which is what she gets for having natural wavy hair that went to her waist. Her cheeks were a natural rose color; her lips were plump and dark pink.

Her wide brown eyes were dark and mysterious to most people but full of the emotion of sadness if you looked past the facade. But just as always, she seemed to have a scowl on her face, which was in the weird phase of round and oval.

Her small nose was reddish from the coldness of her room, with a small splash of freckles that went across it. It was the same girl I saw every day; nothing has changed except a small zit forming on my chin.

I pursed my lips.

"Stupid hormones." I spat.

After a small tantrum over it in my head, I walked back into my bedroom to get ready for another boring day of high school, which wasn't a big school. My bedroom wasn't big either. The walls were yellowish-white and in need of another paint job to get rid of the ugly color.

A small red chair sat in the corner, next to my window, which had a great view of the dense woods outside. I would watch the birds that landed on the branches of the old trees outside and listen to them sing their diverse tunes. They were always lovely, especially the scissor tails .

Most of my bedroom walls were mainly made up of old windows that took a lot of strength to open. A large queen-size bed was in the far corner of the room opposite the chair, taking up half of the area.

A white dresser sat across from it. And a small makeup table that was handed down to me from my grandmother sat beside the small closet.

Pictures lined the wall of my family, a few of my friends and me, and another of my grandmother, me and my older brother Ladon.

I opened my window with a grunt since it always had gotten stuck, to welcome the crisp spring air. The sun was still down; the stars were gone, well had been gone all night thanks to the rough storm that had happened last night.

I almost had a heart attack from the strong winds that hit my home, blowing sticks against it. I sighed, looking out onto the view. I could see the small lights of the neighboring towns. Getting lost in my thoughts of the dream.

And of the history homework I forgot to do. I ran my fingers through my hair, flustered about it before leaving my window to check my phone that was on my dresser, to see what time it was, 6:25. Enough time to slap on makeup and throw on clothes, I thought.

I sat down on the chair that groaned under my weight at the makeup table, with another sigh I put on my makeup, doing everything I could to cover my self-conscious freckles, when I heard something in the bushes near the side of my house.

It was probably another animal; I thought. But still I was curious of what kind. Animals near my home were not anything new since I lived right near the forest, or should I say in the forest.

I glanced out of the window, but all I saw was darkness. The small porch light wasn't bright enough to cover the vast majority of my large front lawn.

After spending 20 minutes putting on my makeup, which consisted only of foundation, chapstick and mascara. I threw on a thick white cotton t-shirt, faded skinny jeans and black converses, brushed my tangled hair out to its normal straight. I never really did anything with it besides brush it, less effort for me.

Pulling it up into a ponytail always gave my head a headache because of how thick it was. But I loved my hair, it was probably the most attractive feature I had. It was actually naturally wavy, but with how thick and how long it was, it became straight.

I checked the time, and it was already 6:49. I sighed. I hoped it would be later so I wouldn't have to wait for the bell to ring at school. I brought my brown eyes to my window, looking outside.

Listening to the sounds of crickets and awakening birds. My life wasn't exactly what you would call fun, no, wasn't even close to that. It felt like I lived déjà vu every day.

You know, wake up, go to school, get tons of homework, come back and then go back to sleep and repeat. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for the roof over my head, the food in my stomach, my friends and family, but I just wished for a little adventure, excitement pumping through my veins.

The only time I had felt that was when I was sneaking in and out of my house to go to a party with my friends, which ended horribly. But there was something else that I couldn't quite comprehend that was missing from my life.

I grabbed my black schoolbag from beside my bed. The comforter was white, with nothing really on it. I had been given for my 17th birthday a few months ago.

I hopped downstairs and into the kitchen. It wasn't at attractive with its wooden cabinets and poorly constructed granite counters. It was an ugly mess.

I pulled out left over eggs and toast from the fridge that my dad had made before he left this morning.

My dad was a handsome man to everyone. He was broad with a six-foot frame, his light brown hair in a slick Superman look. He wore a suit most of the time and always tried to teach me how to cook. But I hated cooking; it just was not me.

I placed the plate on the wooden table and sat down, quietly eating alone. It would get lonely in the house, being alone most of the time because my father always had to do something involving his job.

I grabbed the remote from the couch, sat myself back down and turned on the TV. The first thing to come up was the news, on its usual subject.

"Hello, my name is Michelle Maronè," the news anchor introduced herself, just like she did the morning before, and the morning before that, and the morning before that.

"A 40-year-old camper named Carry Tallene recently went missing at nine o'clock yesterday morning after deciding, as her husband said, wanted to get away from stress. She has not been found, but the residents of Netherwood claim she was murdered by the wolves that roam in the woods that surround their small town, which they have named as the Demon Pack."

Her perfect face was hard, but her blue eyes were amused.

"The same wolf pack that had taken the lives of Garret Parkes, Darius Farry, Cally Money, recently high school graduates from Netherwood High, Jessica Parks and Cordell Patterson. The professional animal control unit — Hartford Red, Aspin Yohan, Larry Burch, and Frederick Losch."

She paused, taking a sip of coffee......" A sad loss for the citizens of Netherwood. In other reports, an attempted break......"

MACALAH'S POV

I quit listening, thinking of the poor victims of the wolves. It was weird of them to have been here, of all places. It was horrible too. I was still in shock that the pack had mutilated the professional animal control unit.

I didn't finish the food, the thoughts of the murderers too fresh on my mind, and I decided I gaveing the remains in the trash along with the paper plate. Gazing out of the window that stood above the green sink.

The woods were beautiful in the rising sun; I couldn't believe that demons could roam them. But I was lucky that they did not roam these parts.

I glanced down at my phone to see the time. I didn't have to be at school until 8:00am; I thought. Maybe I could go see what kind of animal found its way to that bush.

A rabbit, a squirrel, a coyote. Just anything as long as it wasn't a skunk.

As soon as I opened the front door, the cool spring air hit me once again, making m