A Siberian night of cold and darkness the rustling of leaves and the far away trees swaying in with the wind, I feel the pain of cold reaching my ears and the frost in and out of my lungs as I breathe. In and out as I watch the fog of my breath leaves and goes to the air. I can feel the tense heavy winter air weighing us down.

I feel happy with her. Why wouldn’t I? She is my first best friend. I’m at a school I don’t technically like but I don’t hate it whole-heartedly, just only the people. I have to be here, but I find joy and a place I belong with her. I look in her eyes. I see her pain and depression, but also her small amount of hope for a better life. I wonder where her hope came from, mine is almost gone.

She knows me, the real me. Not the disguise of happiness and cheerfulness, I wear so well, but the dark draining disposition that hides away and lives inside alone with the growing fear of abandonment that takes me away every day. It lives for years growing and growing in the shadows of my eyes, if you look close enough you can see it, and spreading to my unloved, forgotten locked away heart. It is locked away because it doesn’t want to be beaten and hurt. It has hope, a little hope, but a hope that will grow eventually. Hope for a better life one day; where we can live happy and loved. One day that we don’t have the fear and that pain is only in the past.

We walked. We walked to past time till we are sent back to our miserable cages. Our cages we hide from that had made us weak and lost and cold and hard, but not our true selves; us who can’t be hurt or torn, but who can be loved and not fearful to be our true selves; to show kindness but not judge, or to live to the fullest and not have regrets. I hope for that every minute of every day. I listen to our footsteps on the weathered gravel path, as we looked at the crystal clear night sky.

We talked nothing too sober just how life is like; weather it is going good or bad and if so than why or what made it this way. I stride up the stone cold bleachers pretending I am an alpha with no pack, a free alpha. My wolf instinct took over, and I howled to the moon like it was a lost lover. She joined in and we laughed because we were to clowns playing around. We made our way up the bleachers and sat down. I felt the cold creeping in to my body.

We waited in the dead silence; just enjoying our time. I talked. I talked about my past; how I was taken from my home and brought to my family, taken by my brother and mother and brought to my family, my family who if they knew the real me would think it is unethical. I’m now in a hostile environment with little to none allies, but I found a place here even if no one thinks it is right but I do.

I asked her about her past, her misfortunes in life. She shared her own dark draining past, and if she never would have told me I wouldn’t think that would be possible. That it would be possible, that someone friendly, nice and compassionate would have a hurting, sorrow dark past. As she spoke, inside I had begun to change. My shadows and hopelessness was washed away, washed away by her and her pain. I realized that I’m not alone is this world of uncertain and pain where if I went missing no one would even blink an eye in my way. I felt my heart and soul long for her; I felt better than I have been feeling. I long for her comfort and love. Then I realized: I love her whole-heartedly. Now I felt nervous and scared. I am going to have to tell her my new secret, but how?