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When I’d get home, my father would be there holding a belt. He’d remind me of my responsibilities. How I was supposed to take care of my mom and Cole and study my late grandfather’s journal about becoming an inspiring alpha worth following instead of putting myself in danger from hunters and wild werewolves whenever I was out there alone.
In order to focus and fulfill my duties, he told me not to go to Skyhigh Falls again.
Ever.
* * *
Ten years ago…
I should’ve known betterwhen my parents informed me about their upcoming trip to Paris. I should’ve been a better son.
“While we’re away, do not forget about your duties, alright?” Father reminded me, his voice stern. “Instead of playing and sleeping at that meaningless place you call a paradise, practice and be the best you can be so you can take over my position as soon as possible. I need you to be the kind of leader everyone can trust their whole lives with, and protect your family, your Aunt Suzy, and Cole. Do you understand?”
I nodded as I bit my lower lip, fighting the urge to protest.
“My dear Gray,” Mother said, her lips forming a small smile as she handed me a yellow umbrella. Looking down, I noticed it had my Korean name initials—YYW—poorly carved on its handle.
“I don’t want it,” I mumbled. “I want a chopper and a box of cement instead.”
“This will come in handy one day,” she said. “What if it rains and I’m not there to pick you up at school?”
“I don’t care. You have to pick me up. I don’t want to be alone,” I whispered, tears traveling down my cheeks. In my stomach, their planned two-week vacation felt like forever.
“Come on, Son. You will not be alone. Aunt Suzy and Cole will be with you,” Father butted in. “Now do not be silly anymore and take the umbrella. You will need it.”
“I said I don’t want it,” I whined, tossing the umbrella across the room before darting outside and running away, hoping they would change their minds and take me with them instead. I could’ve let it slide, but I acted like a spoiled child.
Father yelled at me to come back, but it didn’t bother me until it was too late.
That day, despite the promise I made, I went to Skyhigh Falls and lingered there longer than usual, determined not to face any of the responsibilities my father had left for me. I screamed and screamed until my throat hurt, and my little legs gave in. Before I even knew it, I dozed off.
I woke up on the ground the next morning, and only then did I realize I did wrong, that I shouldn’t have ran away.
On my way back home, I grabbed a dozen oranges so I could give them to my parents and apologize before their planned departure, but when I arrived, Stan was the one waiting for me at the door.
“Where are my parents?” I asked. “I got them oranges for their trip,” I said, grinning as I proudly showed him my orange-filled arms. “Do you want to try some, Uncle Stan?”
Stan looked surprised, as if he’d seen a ghost. I didn’t pay close attention, but as soon as I set my foot on the fluffy welcome mat, his crippling sorrow engulfed me.
“Gray …” he hesitated. A second later, he was pulling me into a tight hug. One I never saw coming. “Oh god,” he muttered with a sigh of relief. “You’re okay.”
“Why are you here, Uncle Stan?” My parents should have opened the door and scolded me for being a bad child, but there was no sign of them. I wriggled out of Stan’s embrace and barged into the living room, dropping the oranges. I reached for the telephone to try and call them, to ask them to come back before they could get to the airport—to say goodbye.
Stan gently took the phone out of my hand. The movement wafted the scent of blood up my nose, prompting me to look up and notice his swollen eyes.
“Gray, listen to me. Last night, we were ambushed,”he said, his voice hoarse and trembling. “Your mom and dad …” He couldn’t even look me straight in the eyes. Perhaps because if he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop his tears from falling.
“What about them?” I demanded.
“They’re … dead,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save them.”
I froze. “What?”
All I could do was fall on my knees, completely aghast over the news.
Day by day, my chest kept getting heavier, as if Earth itself was pressing me down to the bottom of the ocean, drowning me with nothing and no one to hold on to.
* * *
