Shifter Vengeance (Appleton Wolves Book 1), page 1
Copyright © 2021 Jack Bowman
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, incidents, and dialogs are part of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events is strictly coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
Cover designed by MiblArt
First Printing, 2021
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1
The sun was shining today in Appleton for some reason, with its long shimmering rays casting over the long rows of tombstones behind the priest. I couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun over me. I felt cold, like my body was inside a refrigerator gathering up as much freezing air as possible.
I couldn’t see any color. The leaves of the cemetery looked like they were pale and dying, along with the trees they dropped from. All I could see was a gray, monotone world with no excitement, no movement, no energy, and no happiness.
The grass was nothing more than withering blades of greenery that were ready to be whisked away by the most violent winds. Maybe it was because of the sunglasses I wore that matched my black, square-neck, sleeveless dress. Or maybe it was because I didn’t want to see any color on purpose. Maybe I wanted the world to be dark to match the color of my life right now.
My ears were numb to any sounds. I couldn’t hear any birds chirping or any butterflies fluttering nearby. I knew and sensed that they were there, flapping their wings and being happy as usual under the radiating sun that lit up their day. But all I could hear was this sharp buzzing sound that prevented me from hearing anything except for the priest delivering his eulogy.
I stood beside my Aunt Carrie along with a crowd of other people who wore black tuxedos and dresses. Some wore sunglasses like me to hide the anguish in their faces, the tears that welled up in their eyes as I had. I held my aunt’s left hand and felt the grip and sweat of it on mine, as if she was sending me a hidden message: I got you, my precious, beautiful, niece and I’m not letting you go. As strong as this grip is on your hand, this is how strong I’m going to be for you because I’ll always be here for you, protect you, and never leave you.
My Aunt Carrie and I looked at my mother Cassidy lying beautifully under the sun in her casket, wearing a long-sleeved white dress. The sleeves were puffed, and the dress was cotton, lined, and had a long column of buttons in the front. It was the most amazing white dress I’ve seen in my entire seventeen years of existence.
My mom also wore the most beautiful white heels I’ve ever seen. The heels were decked with crinkled bows on top, along with rounded heels and a slim ankle strap. My mom laid in her coffin with her hands placed over her stomach. Her fingers intertwined together over a small gap between her hands and stomach, where I would put something at the end of the service.
The funeral home beautician took care to make my mom very lovely for her funeral. Her long, blonde wavy hair was straightened, and her cheeks were rosy red. The pancake makeup applied to her face by the mortuary cosmetologist made my mom look like her appearance from when she was alive. The sun’s rays shined on her, giving light and color to her already paling corpse.
After the priest was done speaking, it was my aunt’s turn to deliver her sister's eulogy. I saw her shoulder-length dark brown hair bob up and down as she walked to the podium to speak. The smell of her rose and jasmine perfume wafted by me as she walked up to where the priest was, and I could smell the trail of her perfume while she walked past me.
My aunt greeted the crowd and thanked them for being at my mom’s funeral. She said that they held a special place in my mom’s life as much as she did in theirs. My aunt talked about her sister and how they grew up in foster homes, which made them pull closer together and become inseparable in their lives. Aunt Carrie praised her sister for her drive to succeed in her life as an attorney and for building a life with a family that she loved more than anything in this world.
After talking about my mom, my aunt turned towards me with teary eyes.
“I look at my niece Ericka over there, and I can’t help but see the beautiful little girl that Cassidy is going to leave behind. Ericka will be a high school senior in the Fall, and I’m so proud of her, as I know her mother would be if she were still with us today. But my heart breaks for her because she won’t have her mom be there for her to help her face the trials of such a difficult year.”
I could feel my eyes well up with tears again. My cheeks were wet from the waterfall that streamed under my eyes. It was the reason why I wore sunglasses to begin with, so people didn’t see how red my eyes were from all the crying I did the previous night, as well as all the days leading up to my mom’s funeral.
When my aunt mentioned my upcoming senior year in high school, I thought about how my mom wasn’t going to be there for me. Ever since my father died, she was the one who I relied on the most for support and comfort when I would face pre-school jitters about the upcoming year. But now that I’m coming up on my last year in high school, the year I thought would stress the hell out of me the most, I had nobody to turn to because my mom wouldn’t be there anymore.
It wouldn’t be the same with my aunt. Aunt Carrie didn’t know how to comfort me and console me the same way my mother would do every year before a school year started. I know she would try her best, but it wasn’t the same without my mom. I was going to miss her motherly words of encouragement, the hugs she would give me where she would stroke my hair to relax my brain and get rid of the stress, and the gentle kisses she would give me so I wouldn’t feel any anxiety at all.
I choked up trying to hold back more tears at the end of this train of thought. A female near me, a colleague of my mom named Paige, rubbed my back and placed her right hand on my right shoulder. Paige was a rather tall woman and was probably the tallest female at the funeral. I looked up and saw her caring green eyes look at me with sympathy as her long blonde hair blew in the gentle breeze of the day.
“Cassidy was a compassionate mother to my niece and loved Ericka with every fiber of her being. There wasn’t a thing Cassidy wouldn’t do to make Ericka happy and put a smile on her daughter’s face every day. I’m going to miss my sister dearly. But I know she has departed to a better place, where God is watching her and protecting her alongside her husband. I hope that God watches over you and your families and protects you from the evils of this world. May God bless every one of you. Thank you for attending my sister’s funeral.”
My aunt walked up to my mom’s coffin, where she planted a long gentle kiss on her sister’s forehead. Aunt Carrie walked over to me and we both embraced, crying many more tears as we held each other tight. The hug symbolized how much we needed each other and how much we couldn’t let go of one another. After my mom’s death, we were the only family we got. We now both know how much we meant to each other.
At the end of the funeral, I placed a flower in my mother’s hand. It was her favorite, dark red carnations. She told me that carnations were her favorite because they were the flowers my dad bought her when the two of them met. I knew the two of them would be reunited together in Heaven at last.
My aunt was taking me to her house where I would live. She was now my legal guardian. But before we went to her house, my aunt and I went to my house first. The ride home was filled with emotions as I slumped in the passenger seat against a window while smelling a lavender-scented freshener in my aunt’s Chevy Malibu. The cause of death for my mom haunted my mind, and it was the exact cause of death for my dad, too - heart attack.
My mom and I were making breakfast that fateful morning. We made pancakes with oatmeal. Suddenly, my mom collapsed to the ground while getting the pancakes from the skillet to a plate. I called an ambulance to come to our house and they came in fourteen minutes. They rushed my mother to the hospital, where doctors and nurses tried everything they could to revive her, but it was too late.
My dad Jerry suffered the same fate when I was ten years old. It was a snowy day in November, and we were playing outside in the snow on our front lawn. We had a wild snowball fight that I won handily. My dad and I started making snow angels afterward while snow drizzles fell on his ginger beard and hair. But then I saw he had a hard time breathing. He was trying to get off the ground, but he couldn’t. I saw him grasping his chest as his heart was giving up on him.
I rushed into the house to tell my mom, who phoned for an ambulance immediately. She ran outside and tried her best to save my dad from CPR when he fell unconscious. Paramedics arrived fifteen minutes later and took my dad away while my mom and I followed in her car. But it was too late. Nothing could be done to revive my dad. He was dead on arrival.
I remembered that day quite well. It haunts me to this day, and the memory of that fateful day is stronger more than ever now that my parents have joined each other in Heaven. I believe there is a Heaven above and that my father not only inhabits it, he’s also one of God’s angels watching over me. Even though he and I were making snow angels, my dad died in front of m
Aunt Carrie and I arrived at my house, which is being put up for sale. It was and always will be a lovely house in my eyes. Even though the house had no stairs like I wanted, it was still large enough to contain four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The kitchen was so spacious it contained the dining room in it.
There was a “For Sale” sign in front of the house with the realty company’s number and name on it. But the location of the sign disturbed me. It was pinned on top of the exact spot where my dad suffered his heart attack. The sign's placement brought back the memory of that horrible day into my mind, and I immediately took my eyes off the sign before rushing inside.
My aunt and I planned to return to the house before it was sold to gather a few remaining items and clothes belonging to my mother and me. Aunt Carrie would take all the boxes containing my mom’s stuff and I would pack all my things into three boxes in my room.
The more time I spent in my room trying to pack, the more vulnerable I was to nostalgia. Some of the most memorable events in my life came rushing to my mind. When I saw height measurements on the wall near my closet, I remembered all the times my parents drew a sharpie mark above my head to measure my height. They would cheer me on when they saw that I grew a few inches.
I went to my bedroom window and looked out at the playset in the backyard. It was a swing and slide, nothing fancier than that. I remembered all the times my dad would push me on the swing while my mom would hold me in her arms and slide with me. The nostalgia had become too much for me. I felt more tears coming down my cheeks as I gathered a few remaining things from my room.
After putting everything in the appropriate boxes, I hurried out of my room while tears slipped down my cheeks. My aunt was waiting for me outside and I tried to wipe as many tears as possible from my face so she wouldn’t see me so sad and emotional. When she saw me, she couldn’t help but hug me and wipe the tears off my face. It was at that point that I decided just to let the tears come down.
There was no point in bottling up my emotions and holding them prisoner. I wanted to set them free.
It was my first night at my aunt’s house. It wasn’t as big as my house, but it was just as comfortable. But what creeped me out the most about my aunt’s house was that it was mostly secluded, like a cabin with a dense forest right near it. It wasn’t Aunt Carrie’s idea to buy the place; my Uncle Aaron liked it enough to buy it.
Two large trays of pepperoni and sausage pizza sat right in front of us while we watched Star Wars: The Last Jedi. My aunt and I hadn’t seen it since it came out, and we planned on watching The Rise of Skywalker soon. The steaming hot smell of the sausage and pepperoni entered my nose as I saw the death of Luke Skywalker, a scene that made me somewhat emotional. I’ve seen enough tragedy already.
I was blessed to live with my aunt, who was the only immediate family I had in this rough. But what made me love her even more was the fact that she dealt with her tragedy when my uncle died four years ago. He was a firefighter who perished one night when an apartment complex was set ablaze by an electrical wire. He died trying to rescue a trapped family.
Aunt Carrie was honored at Uncle Aaron’s funeral and he was given a hero’s burial funded by the town council. Here my aunt was trying to cheer me up and comfort me with my losses when she still couldn’t get over her own. This made me reach over to her and hug her with all my might, and she placed her arms around me.
“Thank you, auntie,” I said in a low voice. “I’m very blessed to have you in my life. I love you.”
“Aww. I love you, too. And I won’t stop, either. We’re going to get through this, Ericka. I promise.”
After this sweet moment, she and I continued watching the movie while wolfing down our pizza.
2
Five months later.
My senior year started in the shittiest, most brutal way possible. Not only did I have to deal with the tragic death of my mom, but my two best friends Hillary Washington and MacKayla Devereaux left my high school. MacKayla switched from Angelwood High School to River Bend Charter School. She was still in Appleton and I would see her from time to time outside of school. But it’s not the same anymore.
I liked how beautiful MacKayla was after she dyed her hair in a salt and pepper combo. It was one of those features about her beauty that made the boys in the hallway stop and stare at her when she walked by. Some of them would drop their jaws, drop their books, and others would fantasize about dropping their pants. But I never wanted my light blonde hair to ever have that effect because it would make me feel dirty.
I would sit with her every lunch period and vent about how much some of my teachers pissed me off. MacKayla had good ears and would listen to every word I said. She was my personal Dr. Phil. There isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t tell her that she wouldn’t comfort me about or hear me out about. I loved her for that.
Damn, it sucked not having her here anymore.
Hillary moved out of Wisconsin altogether. Her dad Lance landed a lucrative job in Virginia that he couldn’t pass on if someone held a shotgun to his head. It was one hell of an emotional day for Hillary when she had to say goodbye to us. MacKayla, Hillary, and I did so many things in the final days before Hillary had to move. We had a lot of movie nights, sleepovers, roller skating, and bowling trips, where I would beat both of them all the time and gloat in their face because I was just good at it.
All three of us met at a park on the last day Hillary was in Wisconsin. We discussed what’s next for the three of us and how we would interact with each other after she left the state. We talked about long-distance Zoom chats, but there were no other ideas for how MacKayla and I would talk to Hillary.
Hillary begged MacKayla and me to visit her in Virginia Beach whenever we had the chance. She wanted to see us there every summer, a time of the year which she planned for the three of us to do so many things. But MacKayla and I couldn’t promise her anything. We couldn’t just say yes and break our promise later on. It would disappoint the shit out of Hillary.
Hillary burst into tears when we couldn’t commit to her request. It was a windy day at the park, so while the strands of her short, bright blonde hair were blowing with the wind, her tears were also whooshing from her cheeks to whichever direction the wind was going. It was a sight that made MacKayla and I cry.
I don’t think Hillary looked at her father the same way after the family moved to Virginia. It was like he committed a crime when he forced her to separate from us. The day after Hillary’s family arrived at their new home in Virginia Beach, Hillary talked with MacKayla and me on the phone and told us she didn’t speak to her dad that much. She added that she didn’t want to be in the same room as him and couldn’t look at him or be in the room with him.
Even though Hillary was visibly emotional that day, I was also crying on the inside very hard. My mom died and my friends left because of life circumstances of their own. I didn’t want to add to the misery even more by telling them how I felt or shedding some tears. It would’ve been too much. I blocked any tears from rolling out by building a mental dam to guard my emotions against escaping.
I'm all alone now. Perhaps the feeling didn’t hit me so hard until I walked through the doors of the cafeteria. I saw busybodies and carefree students walking around the place with trays in hand and food in their mouths. I could smell some of the food swirling into my nostrils from a mile away - the meat from a corndog, the greasy oil of tatter tots and French fries, the patty of a chicken sandwich, and the BBQ sauce that came with the way-too-peppery chicken nuggets.
I also heard students unwrap their food from the intricately wrapped tin foil and the sound of their TruMoo chocolate milk cartons opening up at the mouth. The smell of the cafeteria food drifted through my nose as I walked up to the lunch line and got my meal. I only wanted a chicken sandwich, a cup of fresh fruit, and a chocolate milk carton.
I went to a table at the far east side of the cafeteria where not too many students sat. The students who sat there mainly were pop culture nerds discussing the next episode of the Shadow and Bone series. I knew they wouldn’t mind me sitting at the other end of their table, eavesdropping on tidbits of their passionate discussion. They wouldn’t even know I was there.
