I believe I was 19 at the time, which would place the time of this happening in the year 2011 or early 2012. In any case, I had been running around all day with friends doing the crazy things that we did at the time, I did have a bit of a wild streak in me as a teenager that some of my former friends probably wish was still there.
It wasn’t too late, but the events of that day had me exhausted and I was fighting to stay awake, laying on the couch as I talked with a friend of mine who had been with me all day.
I can’t remember what we were watching on TV or much else about that evening, but I can remember nodding off, my friend waking me up asking me if I wanted to go running around with somebody. I can remember saying no, and then my friend waking me up again, about an hour or two later, and telling me he’d catch me later because he was going to go run around with said person. He gave me a fist bump and then out the door he went; I laid there trying to get back to sleep but was having some trouble with it, thinking at one point that maybe I should’ve gone with my friend, but soon, I was back to sleep and napping quite well.
I awoke sometime later with probably the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life, and I walked to the bathroom and stared into the mirror, all I can remember is burning up, I felt like I was going to combust and burst into flames, and I went into my mom and dad’s room (that sat just on the other side of the bathroom in that house) and telling them about it.
They blamed the headache on my habits and dismissed it as such, but I insisted that something was wrong, though they told me to go away.
I walked back into the bathroom, heart racing and sweat pouring off of me, and I stared into the mirror. Suddenly, my hand elongated and I watched as the other hand did the same. I shouted and pleaded for my parents to come and help me, but they wouldn’t even respond. I can remember my dad telling mom that maybe I would learn not to do those things anymore when she asked if he thought they should at least come to check on me.
Suddenly, my torso and mid-section began to elongate, and the pain took me to the ground, all I could do was lay on the floor, convinced I was going to die, I insisted my parents help.
“I’m turning into a werewolf!” I shouted, and my father’s laughter at the statement was almost deafening.
“Oh my gosh!” Mom shouted before she joined in the laughter with my dad.
I knew why they were laughing; I could understand the reasoning they didn’t believe me, who would have ever thought anything like that was possible, I know I hadn’t before that moment, but there I lay on the floor, my body morphing into that of a giant wolf/human hybrid, and I was helpless, unable to stop it or change the circumstances.
I continued to scream in pain and terror and shout for help.
“Stephen, if I come in there, you’re not going to be happy about it, I can guarantee you that.” My father threatened.
I forced myself up to my feet, looking at myself, my eyes a glowing yellow, long canine-like hair starting to grow all over me, already covering large areas of my body.
I then looked in the mirror, watching my head begin to morph into that of a wolf and I suddenly grew large wolf-like teeth.
I began to plead with my parents to go and get to safety; I could tell that the transformation was nearly complete, and I feared losing all control and blacking out, unable to control what I did or didn’t do once the process was complete. My voice was beginning to modulate and blood poured from my mouth as I screamed in pain and gripped the bathroom counter with my clawed hands, digging them into the wood around the sink.
“Go and check on him.” My mother said, a tone of concern in her voice as she pleaded with my dad.
“Yeah, stay here.” Dad replied in the same frightful and concerned tone.
“NO! GO!” I shouted, begging them to get to safety.
Suddenly an idea struck me, and I dashed out of the bathroom and through the house, hearing my parents’ bedroom door opening behind me.
“Hey!” dad shouted in an attempt to get me to stop.
But there was no stopping me, and I continued out the door and into the yard, running as fast as I could. As I ran down the stairs and into our yard, I looked out beyond the driveway into the forest and began running in that direction as fast as I could. The next thing I knew, I dropped my hands to the ground and began running on all fours, I can remember how natural that felt, like that’s the way I should’ve been running my whole life, and I ran on all fours across our driveway and down over the hill.
I just kept thinking that I had to get to the forest, I had to get as far away from the house as I possibly could, and I reached the bottom of the hill, hiding behind some bushes as I looked back towards the house, and I could hear myself growling like a wolf.
It was pitch black that night and I watched as my father opened the door and walked out onto the front step, frantically looking around, searching for me, a look of fear, dread and sorrow on his face as he shouted for me.
“Stephen!”
I rose my head up from behind the bushes and tried to respond back, but all I could do is let out a single, long-drawn-out howl that carried and echoed through the night.
I suddenly woke up on the couch and literally breathed a sigh of relief, I know it was a dream, but I felt every bit of what happened in it, and it seemed so real.
It was just a dream, right? Of course it was; if I had to blame it on something, I would blame the habits I had at the time for me having a dream like that and the fact that I’ve had the tendency to have hypoglycemic episodes that cause horrible nightmares.
Comments