The Girl and The Fox

The conflict came closer, all the fighting continuing ahead. Most of the shifters hadn't bothered to change into their specialty, just going the old fashioned way with a sword, shield and prayers. When the armies drew so close, you could just about see someone hovering at the side of the battle field. He was dressed from head to toe in black with a long, ink-like cloak stretching from his head to toes. The hood covered his eyes and part of his thin nose, but you could clearly see what he was holding in his right boney hand. An over-sized scythe.

Then came a faint scream. Isabella's scream.

A shriek erupted into the atmosphere, full of only terror. Lizzie jolted upright, horror reflecting in her beautiful, cerulean eyes. The scene replayed in her head over a million times, just like a horror movie would. But it wasn't true, it was just a dream.

The pre-teen was shocked. She hardly ever had dreams. Everyone said you had to have dreams, but that isn't true. Lizzie has only had a few dreams in her life and never a daydream. You would think Lizzie would be happy to have at least some dreams, but she wasn't. This was because they were never usually good.

*flashback*

It was the day before Lizzie's seventh birthday.

'I don't want to go to sleep, mummy. I want to stay up until midnight and watch the clocks change into my birthday,' Lizzie joyfully stated, eager to put her new idea into action.

'You'll be too tired to open your presents in the morning, then. You must get some sleep,' replied her mother.

'Fine,' Lizzie finally gave in. She was already starting to feel sleepy. As she yawned, she layed her head on the pillow and instantly fell into what she thought would be a dreamless sleep.

*dream*

'You can't do this to me! Please, don't reject me. We only get one chance. ONE CHANCE! That is all she gives us,' Crystal screamed at Eric, moisture trickling out of her eyes in return. She swallowed, wiping her eyes only for more tears to roll down her face smudged with eyeliner.

In return, her husband replied, 'I could never be with a mutt like you. Scarlett!! We're leaving. Now!' Scarlett skipped down the steps, abruptly hesitating as she saw her mother's tear-stained face. Just as the teenager was about to ask something, Eric interrupted, saying, 'Your mother has thrown me and our kind out. I know you can transform, I've seen you do it. You should find a better hiding place to turn as it is easily visible. I'd like you to come with me.' Scarlett looked at her father, then mother. She didn't know what to do. What could she do? After every possibility going round in her head over a million times, she joined Eric. He slammed the set of keys down on the table, then walked out the house without a second glance, shortly followed by a sad-looking Scarlett.

*end of dream*

Lizzie woke up in the morning, Isabella waking her up saying Happy Birthday. Lizzie returned the statement, and they rushed downstairs, excitement filling their eyes, to see what presents were awaiting them on their joint birthday. When they reached the bottom step, only their mother was in sight. Around her eyes were stained with blue eye-liner, her raven-coloured hair could be a bird's nest, and lastly, she had a bottle in her hand. A wine bottle.

'Is everything ok, mummy?' Lizzie asked, her voice trembling slightly. Crystal got up, turned around, swaying slightly, and entered the kitchen until the girls could no longer see her. They heard smashing. Lots and lots of smashing. From the small crack they could see through the door, they saw their mother throw the wine bottle on the floor, shattering everywhere.

Lizzie and Isabella ran upstairs, crying. Not because their birthday had been ruined, but because they didn't like seeing their mother like this. "The only other time they had seen her like this was when Isabella had run away," Lizzie thought. "Or was that a dream?"

When the sisters reached their shared room, Lizzie's side neat and tidy, but Isabella's half a pig sty, they sat on the floor and Lizzie explained what she thought happened. Her dream.

*end of flashback*

Remembering this made Lizzie feel sick. She hated that day.

It was pitch black in the room...and it was five years since the night her father left. The night before her birthday. A rather dull one. They had all been since he ran. Nothing was the same.

Lizzie looked around her not so lively room, her eyes landing on the uninhabited bed across from her. A lump formed in her throat. Isabella still hadn't returned.

The golden haired girl trudged grumpily to the door. Just as she was about to open it, someone did it for her. Then, Lizzie let out an shrill screech that shattered the silence.