I sat in the principal's office with wet pants and glass in places I didn't want to talk about. Across from me, Principal Hardy looked like he'd just walked off the lot of a failing used car dealership.
His tacky, mustard-colored suit clashed violently with the caterpillar mustache squatting on his lip. Normally, he looked like he was about to sell you a lemon with a fake smile. But right now, he looked like he wanted to strangle me with the tie he probably bought at a gas station.
"So," he began, voice full of forced patience, "you mean to tell me a woman is stalking you. But not just any woman—a woman strong and agile enough to climb to a second-story window and punch through annealed glass?"
I said nothing. Just stared at the floor.
"She's also a werewolf," I mumbled.
He blinked. Then rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might pop out of his skull.
"You think I'm Boo-Boo the fucking fool?!"
With that tacky-ass suit, you could've fooled me, I thought, but didn't dare say.
He slammed his fist on the desk hard enough to rattle a bobblehead of Teddy Roosevelt.
"You broke that window. Just admit it!"
"What reason would I possibly have to break a window?!" I snapped.
He leaned back in his creaky office chair, sighing dramatically like I was the one being unreasonable.
"I don't know what you kids do anymore. Last week I had to chew out one of your little shits for trying to steal a sink from the boys' bathroom."
I blinked. "...A sink?"
He held up a hand. "Don't ask. Just don't."
I leaned forward, desperation creeping into my voice. "Sir, you've known me since freshman year. I haven't caused any trouble. Not once. You have to believe me. I didn't break that window."
He looked at me with a skeptical gaze, then sighed, rubbing his forehead like he was trying to wipe the stupidity out of the air.
"When all else fails, logic and reasoning prevail," he muttered. "Isaac, if you didn't break the window... then who did? And don't say it was some werewolf girl."
I groaned, just as the door knocked.
And then walked in my mom and dad.
Uh oh.
Shit just hit the fan.
My mother cradled Unis in her arms—my baby sister, sleeping peacefully like none of this was happening.
"Mr. Hardy," my mom said, her tone so serious it gave me chills. "We'd like to talk to you about the window."
"Mom, Dad, I—" I started.
But my dad placed a firm hand on my shoulder, his voice low and heavy. "Go wait outside, son."
I froze. That tone—the solemn, disappointed dad tone—hit harder than anything else today.
With a quiet nod, I stepped out and gently closed the door behind me.
I leaned against the hallway wall and softly slammed my head against it. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to check if I was awake. Maybe this is all a nightmare. Nope. Still here. Still insane. Still covered in shame.
This day cannot get any worse.
A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped.
But it was just Jack, Daniel, and Flynn. I sighed in relief.
"Hey, guys," I mumbled.
Daniel jumped right in. "Dude, what the hell happened?! People are saying you broke a window and pissed yourself when you got caught."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, screw what they think. I've got bigger problems."
They exchanged uneasy glances.
"I don't know how to say this," I started. "But I'm being stalked... by a werewolf."
Jack and Daniel's faces slowly twisted into something between concern and please God let this be a joke.
Flynn looked down at the floor, avoiding my eyes.
They think I'm crazy. Of course they do. Who wouldn't?
Daniel opened his mouth. "Umm... Isaac, dude—"
Jack quickly put a hand on Daniel's shoulder, stopping him. "Listen, Isaac," he said, gently. "We're your friends. We're gonna stick by you. No matter what."
"Yeah, man," Daniel nodded. "We got your back. Every step of the way."
Flynn gave me a soft nod. She reached out and patted my head.
But I could feel it. The silence. The awkward kindness. The fear in their eyes. Their words were saying we support you, but their tone said oh God, he's snapped.
This wasn't how people react when you say a monster's after you. This was how people react when you say you have cancer.
"Listen," I said, my voice rising a bit. "I know it sounds crazy. But I'm telling the truth. I'm being stalked by a werewolf!"
They looked away, like my eyes were too heavy to meet. My throat tightened.
They don't believe me.
No one does.
Who would?
I grabbed Flynn's hand from atop my head and looked into her eyes with a pleading gaze.
"Flynn… babe, you believe me, right? I'm not lying."
Her eyes stayed locked on the floor.
Then she took a deep breath and finally looked up at me. "Isaac, I—"
Click.
The office door creaked open, interrupting her. My parents stepped out with Mr. Hardy behind them. His expression had shifted from rage to something softer—apologetic, even.
"Mr. Windsor," he said, addressing me. "I'd like to apologize for how I lost my temper earlier. I wasn't aware of your… condition. Please don't worry about the window. Your parents have agreed to replace it."
Condition?
My eyes widened. My head tilted slightly. What the hell is going on today?
What does everyone know that I don't?
"Come along, Isaac," my mom called gently. "You won't be going to school for a few days."
"What?! Mom, Dad, it's not—"
"Now, Isaac," my dad said, with a firmness that left no room for debate.
I flinched. I couldn't remember the last time he raised his voice at me.
I turned to look back at my friends.
Jack. Daniel. Flynn.
All of them gave me those sad, pitying expressions, like they were watching someone go off to rehab or a mental hospital.
It pissed me off. I didn't want their sympathy—I wanted answers.
What the hell is going on!?
Grudgingly, I followed my parents out of the school. I didn't say a word. I ignored the whispers, the laughter, the phones snapping pictures. I kept my eyes peeled for her in the parking lot, just in case she tried to follow us home.
My parents noticed me scanning the shadows. They didn't comment.
The car ride was dead silent.
The tension inside the car was thick—thicker than blood. Every tick of the turn signal was louder than it needed to be.
Are they mad at me?
As if reading my thoughts, my mom finally spoke.
"We're not mad at you, sweetheart. It's just a window. We can afford to fix it."
I looked at her through the rearview mirror. "Then why am I staying home from school?"
My dad gripped the wheel tighter, eyes fixed on the road. "We both think it'd be better if you stayed home a few days… considering…"
He trailed off, flashing a side glance at my mom.
That look.
That silent communication.
It made my blood boil.
"Considering what?" I snapped. "Why is everyone being so secretive?!"
My voice was loud enough to make Unis twitch in her sleep.
I winced and spoke in a softer tone.
"Someone just tell me what's going on. Please. I'm confused, and no one believes me about the werewolf."
My mom sighed.
"We… we'll talk more when we get home. Just please be patient."
Patience is not my strong suit.
The rest of the ride was uneventful. But my eyes stayed sharp. I made note of everything—the passing cars, the joggers in the distance, every alley and shadow we passed. I wouldn't let her catch me off guard again. Not when my family's involved.
When we got home, I was on high alert. As we piled into the house, I double-checked every corner. Locked the patio doors. Checked under my bed. My closet. The bathroom. My parents' room. My sister's. Every place I could think of.
"Issac…" my mom called softly. "Sit down. I think it's time we talked."
I sighed.
"Okay, fine. I was gonna check the attic, but it can wait until after this."
My dad gently laid Unis down in her sleeping spot on the couch and took a seat beside Mom. They both looked... heavy.
Mom took a breath.
"Well. You're old enough to know the truth. But… our family—specifically my side—has had some experiences with... mental health issues."
Mental issues?
"Yes," she continued, nodding slowly. "For example... your uncle. We had to send him to a psychiatric hospital because… because he tried to suffocate you in your sleep."
My heart dropped.
Uncle Tommy?
He was the best. He taught me how to keep my cool, how to be clever with insults instead of cruel. I always wondered why we never saw him anymore. And now I wish I didn't know.
"Is that why we don't talk about Uncle Tommy anymore?"
She nodded, her hands trembling. Dad gave her a soft pat on the back, comforting her. This must've been hell for her to bring up.
"And… back in elementary school…" Her voice cracked. Her eyes welled up. "You experienced a... psychotic episode."
My throat dried up. The ringing in my ears grew louder.
"A... a psychotic break?" I whispered.
She nodded again. "It scared us so much. You were on the floor, screaming over and over about yellow eyes… and a werewolf coming to get you. You wouldn't respond to anyone."
She wiped at her eyes, her voice breaking again.
"You spent three days in the hospital. You were catatonic. Barely moved. Barely ate. Then one morning... poof. You were better. Sitting up, asking where you were and why you were there. You didn't remember anything. The screaming. The hospital. The werewolf. Nothing."
Dad spoke up for the first time.
"We figured it was best not to bring it up. Until now."
Mom placed her hands gently on my face, trying to smile through the weight in her eyes.
"You're my baby boy. I don't want to see you suffer. So please... work with us. Just for a little while. Stay home a few days. If this is stress, we'll talk it through. If it's something else, we'll get help. Real help. But you're not alone."
My breath hitched.
Help? A professional?
No way. I can't go to a psychiatric ward.
I know I'm not lying.
...Am I?
Now that I really think about it... I have been under a lot of stress lately.
Between dating Flynn, working overtime, training Maxine—maybe I've been stretched thinner than I thought.
I sighed and placed my hands over hers.
"I have been a bit stressed lately. I… I could've been seeing things. You're right. A few days at home would be good for me. And... thanks. For telling me about the psychosis."
She smiled and kissed my forehead.
"Good. How about I make us some cookies and ice cream, and we watch Man's Best Friend?"
At the word ice cream, Unis stirred awake with a tiny shout:
"ICE SREM!!"
We all chuckled—the tension in the room finally breaking like a cracked window. I felt something lift from my chest. I hadn't even realized how heavy I'd been breathing until now. It didn't disappear completely… but the pressure eased.
"Okay, sounds like fun," I said. "Just let me change... you know… because, uh, pee pants."
My dad barked out a laugh, while my mom's eyes went wide.
"Boy, you've been sitting here in pissy pants!? Go upstairs and change!"
I stifled a laugh. "Yes, ma'am."
I made my way upstairs, the smile fading once I reached the solitude of my room. My expression hardened—solemn and calculated.
I know I'm not crazy.
There are too many things that don't add up.
The scratches on my neck. The force that shoved me to the ground this morning—I felt her.
And then there's the one thing no one can explain away: the glass.
If I had broken that window myself—like everyone seems to think—the shards would've been outside. But no… the glass was broken inward.
She punched through it.
I lay down on my bed, my thoughts swirling in a storm.
"Great. Not only do I have to figure out how to deal with this werewolf chick, now I've gotta pretend everything's 'peachy keen' just so they don't throw me in a psych ward."
My phone buzzed on my nightstand. I glanced at it.
Daniel.
I answered. "Hello?" My voice came out tired.
"Hey, man. It's me, Daniel. You remember me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Dude, I don't have Alzheimer's."
He sighed. "Damn. I thought you were forgetting our friendship or something. Happened to my grandpa. But it wasn't actually happening—he was just messing with us and—"
There was a shuffle, some background chaos on the line.
"Hey! I was talking to him—!"
Then another voice came through.
"Hello? Isaac? It's me—Flynn."
My heart skipped.
"Oh… hey," I said, trying not to sound as affected as I felt. Her voice had this weird power—it practically leaned out of the phone, pinning me in place.
"I know you're not feeling well right now," she said, "but… I want you to know, I want you to get better."
I smiled faintly. "Thanks, babe. I guess I was just stressing out about… a lot. But I'll get better. I promise."
She softened. "You better. Don't worry. No one's gonna hurt you. I promise."
If only that were true.
"Hey, I'm gonna go hang out with my family," I said. "Maybe I'll text you later."
Someone yelled in the background, "Yeah, when you're done stealing my phone, Flynn!"
Smack.
"OW!"
Flynn chimed back in. "Yeah, Jack says hi. He's driving."
I heard his voice call out faintly, "Get well soon, buddy!"
I chuckled. It felt nice. Like… maybe I wasn't so alone.
"Thanks, guys. I'll keep you posted."
We said our goodbyes and hung up.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
...She's out there.
I could feel her, watching me through the window. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
Or maybe… maybe I am going batshit crazy.
Either way—I flipped her the bird, wherever she was.
If I'm going insane, I can go insane tomorrow.
Right now?
It's time for cookies and ice cream.
Beatrix perched silently in a tree, cloaked by the shadows of the woods. From her vantage point, she could see clearly into Isaac's window. She grinned to herself, watching him move through the house—talking to his family, trying to laugh, changing his pissy pants.
"My personal work," she whispered with a wicked little smirk.
She watched him flop onto his bed, clearly exhausted. Her grin widened. He's spiraling. Breaking down. Just like I want.
She wondered what he'd do next. Tomorrow? The next day? Would he try to fight her? Run? Hide? It made her giddy just imagining it. Fear made people interesting.
And then she saw it.
A movement. Small—but intentional.
Isaac raised his hand… and made a gesture.
Beatrix leaned in, curious.
When she recognized it, her smile dropped into a scowl.
He flipped her the bird.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Then narrowed her glowing eyes.
"Oh that motherfu—"