"Clara, I'm making dinner!" my mother yelled from downstairs.
"Okay, Mom! I'm almost done unpacking!" I called back from my new room.
We had just moved to Sunnyhills, California, from New York.
Our new home is a charming two-story house, and our backyard opens up to a sprawling forest.
It's peaceful and lovely out here, but it doesn't quite compare to our old place back in New York.
We had to leave because my father passed away last fall. One November evening, while out for a night run, he was attacked by an animal.
Animals, especially dogs, have never been my favorites. I don't know why, but I have a deep-seated fear of them. So hearing about my dad's tragic fate at the hands of an animal only intensified that fear.
Mom let me finish my junior year at Findley High before revealing her plan to move. The house reminded her too much of Dad, and she wanted to escape the memories tied to that town.
I understood her need for change, but it meant leaving behind my best friend, Dana.
We promised to text each other whenever something significant happened. We're keeping that promise because she's messaging me right now.
Dana: OMG, Wes asked me out on a date!!
Me: WHAT? WHEN? WHERE? HOW?
Dana: I was working, and he came in. After I took his order, he asked for my number and texted me!
Me: Ah! Give me the details!!
Dana: The date is tomorrow after school, and we're going rock climbing!!
Me: That's so cute! You're so lucky!
Dana: Don't worry, Luce; you'll find your guy.
As I was typing my response, I heard a noise coming from the backyard. Since Mom was back there, I stepped out onto the patio attached to my room. I opened the door, straining to listen for the sound again. After five minutes of silence, I figured I must have imagined it.
But just as I turned to go back inside, I heard a howl.
I couldn't tell if it was coming from a coyote or a wolf, but the sounds were getting louder, signaling they were getting closer.
In a panic, I dashed back into my room and locked the patio door. Just then, I heard my mom calling for me.
"Clara, dinner's ready!"
"Already?" I asked. "What did you make?"
"Kraft mac and cheese and chicken tenders," she replied.
I made my way downstairs to find Mom tossing away the Kraft box and returning the leftover chicken tenders to the freezer.
"I just love a home-cooked meal," I joked as I sat down.
"Well, I do too, but since we just moved and I'm still figuring out where the grocery stores are, this will have to do," she said with a playful stick of her tongue out.
"I'm just teasing, Mom. This is perfect," I assured her.
Mom has faced a lot in the past couple of years. First, my grandfather passed away, and then my dad followed a year later.
It's been tough for both of us, so I try not to give her any trouble.
"Are you ready for school tomorrow, hon?" she asked as she sat down.
I nodded. "I'm kinda nervous since it's my senior year and I'll be the new girl—probably the youngest, too."
"I know it's tough, but I have no doubt you'll make friends easily. You're a social butterfly, just like your mom."
I smiled at her. My mom is truly beautiful.
With her long brown hair, flawless caramel skin, and those striking dark brown eyes that almost look black, she's stunning. And I must admit, I see a lot of her in myself.
I sometimes feel sorry for her since she's alone now, with only me for company. Whenever she asks me to do something together, I drop everything to make her smile. I love my mom; she really is my best friend.
Dinner passed in comfortable silence. Once we finished eating, I told her I would handle the cleanup so she could relax.
While doing the dishes, I hummed along to Beyoncé's "Irreplaceable."
After drying my hands and putting the dishes away, I glanced out the window and was startled to see two glowing eyes staring back at me. I blinked, but when I looked again, they were gone.
What on earth was that? Was it real, or was I just imagining things?
I locked all the doors and windows before turning off the lights and heading upstairs.
I tiptoed into my mom's room to say goodnight, but she was already fast asleep. After driving for three days straight, she must have been exhausted.
Back in my room, I changed into my pajamas—just a sports bra and pajama pants—and climbed into my new queen-size bed. My heavy eyelids slowly began to droop, and as I drifted off, the only thing I could remember from the night was those eerie yellow eyes staring at me.