GoodbyeYesterday aka Friday II

Why? That's what I want to know. I never before recalled ever really asking 'why' to anything, just sort of accepting it, taking it for face-value and going on with my life feeling that it was pointless to dwell on the past.

'But now the whys in life plague me: Why were we born? Why must we die? Why were we, the wolves, born amongst the humans who fear and hate us so much? What did we do to them that deserved this sort of cruelty?

'But the 'why' that rings most loudly in my mind is why her? The 'her' in which I speak is…was my mate. My Carmen. She was the one who on our first meeting merely gave me a glance of acknowledgment allowing the both of us to admit that the other existed ensnaring me in her web. She was nothing I had not seen before but she was something I hadn't quiet met before either. She was a contradiction in herself, so to say, my Little Red Riding Hood unaware that in her actions she had been a disobedient girl and had fallen into the arms of the wolf.

'Why did she come into my life only to leave it so soon? Was it that I wasn't meant to have her? Why didn't I die with her?'

"Chris." The wind whispered his name in a beloved voice.

The darkness lifted taking with it the cold sense of numbness that usually consumed his being like a frozen fire; in the light that promised freedom from his pains he turned his face towards the warmth.

There he was again, back in his old room where they had first mated and everything was…perfect.

"You're being silly." The sweetest of voices in his mind chided with a soft laugh.

Turning he looked upon the body that lay stretched out in a listless fashion across the brown sheets of his bed. She looked nothing short of wonderful in his eyes, dressed only in one of his oversized shirts that dwarfed her body and that dog collar of hers. What was it about her wearing just those two items that made her so appealing to him he would never truly understand.

"And why do you think I'm being silly?" He asked his lips actually lifting into a smile.

"You're questioning nature, you're a wolf, not a human, and wolves don't question. Why question something that's been happening for so long?" Her voice seemed to deepen into something of a purr as she rolled from her back onto her stomach all the while keeping her eyes on him. "It's utterly pointless."

He took a seat on the edge of the bed staring out towards the window that would never show anything else but the light of an eternal rising sun, an eternal beginning.

Eternal sunshine, that's what he wanted.

"I can't help it." He whispered.

He felt her shift behind him sitting up to crawl towards him. He closed his eyes as he felt her hands press palms down on his shoulder blades. Warmth, he could actually feel the warmth of her body press against his, "If I hadn't left I would have been around to save you, father, and the others."

"Ifs are only silly fantasies that you wonder about, if you had done it you'd wonder if you hadn't, there are too many variables with 'if'. It makes no difference," She commanded in an equally soft whisper. "So stop hurting yourself like this."

He wanted to laugh, a figment of his imagination, his coping mechanism, was telling him to get over it. The warmth he felt wasn't really there, merely a memory, her voice, her scent; all of it was nothing more but memory now. "Can't help it." He answered back in all honesty, what was the point in lying about it? She was apart of him, each thought she knew, each lie, everything.

Reaching behind him his hands drew over the smooth curves of her thigh brushing up to the hem of his shirt just were the string of her panties clung to her skin. He wondered what color they would be this time, knowing full well that they could be any color that he wanted them to be, but sometimes it was easy to forget it wasn't real when he really wanted to.

"Where are we now?" Carmen's voice questioned in his ear.

Chris sighed falling backwards onto the bed pushing her back with him so that she lied sandwiched between the mattress and himself, pulling her arms from his back he wrapped them around his neck like a stiff scarf. "We're still in Knoxville. Henry's looking for a new den. Cold, the cousin I told you about, said there was some space in this town some place northwest that should suit us temporarily until we find something better."

"Where's 'something better'?"

"Someplace in the mountains Northeast of here."

"Are there any others there?" Her soft voice whispered up in the back of his ear.

"She said there's asmall commune of strays scattered at this place though they refuse to call themselves a pack. Though that was about a year and a half ago so we're not sure what's going on with it now."

"I hope you can trust her judgment." She sighed rubbing her nose into his neck, breathing deeply in and out, in and out.

"Yeah, though no one would admit it she's one of the most respected mutts around."

And in an instant they found themselves in a comfortable silence, no not silence but a certain intimacy that called for no words, no kisses or real physical contact save for being wrapped about one another. It felt like hours had passed when he knew well it was only a matter of minutes. That's when it happened, the air quickened as subtle noises seeped through.

He felt his body lift and fall as Carmen sighed deeply. "It's time for you to get up and get to work." She said pushing him up and away with a certain bit of ease that she should not have been capable of.

He could feel the pull of consciousness drawing him further away from the paradise that was in her arms, "I don't want to go." He confessed with a pathetic whimper to his voice.

"You know you can't, you know what you're doing to yourself if you do."

He'd forfeit his life, that's what it meant, but then he would be in some sort of heaven.

"This isn't heaven, Chris, this isn't even real." She whispered before he was too far to hear. "Have a nice day honey."


Waking up to the usual clamor of the busy streets of Parkers Boulevard springing into life outside of the hotel window the pleasantries that came with a good night's sleep evaded him.

The sheets of the hotel bed were cheap but oddly comfortable given how coarse the blankets were.

Moving from the bed he ignored the tanned arm draped over his abdomen letting it slide from him and onto the mattress with a hallow thump, he didn't even bother to be thoughtful of the other body laying in the bed the sooner she got up the sooner she could get out of his sight.

Chris stood at the end of the bed mentally thinking of what he had to do on his busy day while staring at his bedmate. What was her name? It was something feminine, almost classic in a sense, was it Giselle? Genevieve? Meredith? It never really mattered, their names didn't matter.

What did names matter when all he needed from them was their bodies, their simple vessels to aid in an insatiable hunger?

It was understandable and acceptable, he thirst for his mate, and not just in her body alone. He missed so much about his wife, from the sound of her voice when she laughed to the way she merely gazed out into the distance. Sure widowed wolves rarely re-mated but that didn't mean they didn't rut when the need was too great.

He only looked for a few things from the women he picked up at clubs and certain places (and when he was desperate off the corners), their bodies had to have remotely the same shape as hers, and that they had dark hair. Their faces and what not, that really didn't make much of a difference since he would have them on their hands and knees rutting like mere dogs.

"Hey." He called kicking the bed frame, roughly rousing the woman. "Wake up, you need to get dressed and get out of here."

She moaned sitting up, uncaring that the bed covers slipped from her naked body showing off perfect breast with nipples pierced. "Mornin' already?" She asked in a honeyed northern accent, she ran her well manicured fake nails through her thin dark hair. "Baby, you're one hell of a fuck, I haven't had it that intense in a while." She commented with a purr he supposed was meant to seduce, had she not sound more like a cat meowing or rather a sad imitation of Catwoman. "Wanna go again?"

"Is that the line you give all of your boyfriends or your clients?" He didn't bother to look at her; she was just a vessel after all. "I told you to get out."

"Since you were so good last night I'll ignore the fact that you think I'm that sort of woman." She stated ignoring his command.

"What, that you're easy or a hooker? Go on."

She pretended to pout letting her bottom lip drop far too much, perhaps if she didn't look so muddled, wasn't naked, and he wasn't aware via the things she did the night before what sort of woman she was he might have fallen for it…might. "No no baby, I mean it. I've never had it quiet like that before."

He wanted her to go, the wolf in him was getting irritated with her, rutting bitches weren't suppose to stay behind, they weren't suppose to act the part of a mate. He would have to force her out as the wolves did if she tried to stay longer.

He looked at her, her curvy body a bit too lax and lacked the natural muscular tone all wolves had, her hair, it wasn't naturally that dark brown near black color, no, chemical dyes did that. And her eyes, they were all wrong! The wrong color, the wrong shape, they lacked the light he longed to see again.

She wasn't his wife…she wasn't his Carmen.

The acknowledgement of this brought a low warning growl from his throat. "Get the fuck out!"

With a huff and a bit of low muttering he guess she didn't mean for him to hear she quickly gathered her clothing her purse and dressed in a matter of moments before storming out the door.

Showering and dressing into a new change of clothes he took a glance at himself in the mirror. He was notably thin, thinner than what he once was and pale (though he was a bit pale to begin with). His face, sometimes when he compared the look of him now to the pictures of himself back in those golden days of happiness he looked like a different man. His face, thinner, his bone structure more defined, as if he had been starved, or rather he was starved for something other than food.

Scowling at himself he turned away to leave, depositing a few dollars on the TV for the cleaning woman for the trouble she would have to go through cleaning and throwing away his old clothes…he never did like the lingering smell of the bitches when it came to the time that followed his actions.


Getting 'home' was easy enough, he just walked straight there since there were no signs of hunters anywhere nearby, but in time they might wonder upon them again, that's how it always was: carelessness on the behalf of the wolves and luck on the side of the Hunters.

The house was small, at least smaller than what the pack was accustomed to. A small three bedroom one story sort of Ranch house, painted an ugly color of brown he himself couldn't help but stare at with utter disgust, the once black but now gray shingles were chipped and falling away like the autumn leaves in certain places. Maybe if they weren't falling away in large horrible patches that it would look better, but no the house was a horrible eye sore.

The front door busted open as two small bodies came rushing towards him, the pack's young followed slowly by the chubby golden brown colored old girl.

"Uncle Chris!" A fat little blond haired boy shouted wrapping his thick arms about his knees.

"Hey Ian, good morning Ringo." Chris grinned ruffling the short cut curly auburn hair of the older boy. "What are you two doing up so early?"

"It's Saturday." The now seven year old boy answered shoving his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants.

It took Chris all of a second to mentally count the days before really realizing that it was indeed a Saturday, and if any tradition was followed by the pack the children always miraculously awoke at the crack of dawn to channel surf between the varieties of morning cartoons.

"C'mon!" Ian cried pulling Chris by his pant leg yanking him towards the house.

The little boy was strong for a child, be he wolf or human, and heavy too regardless of his size. When picking him up he felt like he was lifting over 150 pounds of dead weight. Taking the boy by his hand rather than straining his back so early in the morning he allowed himself to be pulled into the house right into the living room where his alpha-female, the pack's queen bitch sat.

With her long blonde hair still somewhat tangled and pulled back into a ponytail, her blue eyes moved to look at the incoming wolves, "Welcome home, Chris." Gylda chirped happily from her place before the TV, with a mug of what smelled like French Vanilla coffee, odd since the alpha was more known for drinking stronger flavored coffees. "Enjoy yourself last night?" Her tone had changed from caffeine induced cheerful to condescending.

His heart sank slightly at the blatant accusation, even though it was normal for him to do as he did she always managed to make him feel guilty…unfaithful. "Gyl, please."

"Yeah, hon, it's too early to start." A tall man, who could only be described as beefy stated as he walked in with a small plate of buttered wheat toast in one hand and a container of orange juice in the other.

Nodding his impossibly white head of hair in acknowledgment to his adoptive brother he made his way into the kitchen knowing that since it was Saturday he would have to fend for himself. Usually Dwayne was the one to do the cooking, a sort of homage he pays every day save for Saturdays to his departed wife, the pack's ex-self proclaimed cook.

Pouring himself a glass of apple juice and popping an Eggo waffle into the toaster he couldn't help but reflect on how oddly protective Gylda was of the memory of Carmen among all of the others of the pack who had died so long ago. She herself knew as did any other wolf that in some cases wolves would rut after their mate had died, more out of instinct and a sort of necessity rather than love, though in rare cases they did remarry.

She was somewhat angered, not at the fact that Chris was taking other wolves into his bed, but because the wolves he chose…she had seen them and knew why he chose them.

It had been over three years now, three years and the rest of them had moved on in a way, where as Chris…he lingered behind in the past regretting and sulking filling his mind with a thousand what-if scenarios.

He had eaten his breakfast in quiet solitude, the noise from the television in the other room drifted softly through the thin walls from time to time Ian's and Ringo's bursts of laughter and the soft chuckles of Gylda and Henry. If he concentrated hard enough he knew he would be able to hear the tired snores of Dwayne. Yeah Friday nights he always worked the late shift.

His fork clicked against the plate repeatedly hitting nothing with each jab, he hadn't even noticed he had eaten all three waffles. His golden eyes drifted about the kitchen that was lacking the usual warmth and love he had felt in all the others they had dined in before that horrible day. They always kept it plain, only bearing what they needed to cook with. What was the point when they would be moving again within half a year if not sooner?

The voluptuous blonde bitch stood at the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room, listening to the soft clinks and clatter of Chris moving from the table to the sink to wash his dishes.

'Okay girl, today is the day.' She swore to herself mentally, crossing her arms over her large bust covered in her silky pink robe. 'Today you'll do it; you're going to do it.'

She had a long speech ready, she had practiced over and over again promising herself that each time she saw him she'd tell him. Each time she promised she'd have her say, she promised that she'd tell him to move on, to let go and forget if need be.

When he appeared from the kitchen to stand silently before her awaiting whatever it was he knew she had to say she felt her well and determination leave her as she could see the pain and suffering in his lone golden hazel eye and pale face, and the promise she had made was held back for the next time.

"Chris," She sighed promising herself 'next time' once more, "Please take Missy for her walk."

Gylda stood and stared watching as the depressed black haired wolf walked out the door with the leash in his hands offhandedly calling for the packs canine companion after him. Her great bust rose and fell with a mighty and helpless sigh. She didn't even bother to move when she heard the heavy foot falls followed by the strong pleasant musky smell of her husband.

His strong hand landed softly on her shoulder massaging it firmly before planting his lips against the curve of her cheek. "We have to talk." He breathed against her rosy colored skin.


Parkers Ave was a busy and sometimes difficult street to walk, it was one of the main streets of the city stretching from what he believed was the beginning all the way to Prudent Square, the heart of the city, and out again to the end leading on to what laid beyond the city called Knoxville.

But busy or no he managed.

He looked down on the old girl, Missy, a classy dog who more than just knew her place but expected everyone else to know as well. They were surprised to find her wondering about alone and lost in the area surrounding the old den, or at least what was left of the den. Cecelia was kind enough to give custody over to him when she found looking at the dog only made her think of her departed daughter.

How long had it been since that day long ago? Three years and ten months? Maybe more, he no longer kept track, the days melted together forging on into the weeks that drifted on into months. He knew the same would become of the years, passing before his eyes as he wallowed in his misery.

Someone's shoulder collided with his.

Human beings.

He sneered when a honeyed blonde cast adoring eyes his way (despite his flaw of a missing eye) causing her to gasp in shock before moving quickly forward avoiding his path. The dislike he had for them before, the very dislike his late mate had washed away from his heart, had returned with bitter vengeance.

He hated them for their simplicity, he hated them for being so unexceptional and dependent on their shelters and technology. But nothing could make him hate them more then for the fact the humans had bore him his mate and just as easily took her from him. They were like some immature child giving him a magnificent gift they could not begin to cherish just to take it away when they saw how pleased he was with it.

Of course that wasn't how it really was, it all being a series of unfortunate events, coincident, fate. Not all of mankind was responsible for his Carmen's death, but the men and women who considered themselves 'protectors' of mankind were the ones responsible.

Phantom pains brought his finger up to rub against the smooth patch covering the socket that once housed his right eye. His finger rubbed downwards over the thin bump of scar tissue that ran down the length of his brow over his lid to the curve of his cheek.

The scar was one of the few scars he would ever receive that his body wouldn't and couldn't heal, as if it too could not stand to forget the past, as if things really truly could not allow him to forgot about her and allow things to be a bit normal again.

Before he knew it he was at the park, a small place with more trees and space than recreational activity areas. Often the pack would sneak in after dark to run around and unwind somewhat, the city wasn't very suitable for them there weren't that many places for them to go about in their beastly forms leaving them rather edgy and closed in.

The city was claustrophobia in itself. Chris observed looking about the sad excuse for a park and the many buildings and peoples that lived within them. He was grateful that it wasn't that large of a city, but unless they were domestic dogs the city was no place for them.

"Nowhere seems to be right for us nowadays." Chris grumbled to himself watching Missy walk about the park freely sniffing the areas in which other dogs had marked before making her presents known by doing the same.

Chris scoffed lightly, of all of them the old girl adjusted to the change of things far easier than the rest of the pack. Maybe it was because she was merely a dog, maybe it was something else entirely different, something easy going about her that her former mistress, Carmen, had as well.

Carmen, he had done it again, somehow allowed his thoughts to drift to her. One would think after so long his obsession would have died or at least his mourning would have lessened but no, it was like it was still that horrible morning when he woke up with the fresh wounds so many miles away from the burnt down den.

Sighing to himself Chris allowed for his shoulders to sink lower as he watched some children he may or may not have seen before laugh as they approached Missy, feeding her praises and petting her as kids always do.

"Something the matter?" A voice asked.

Looking upwards from his small ravine of thought Chris spied a noticeably older human man perhaps in his fifties or so, his head shaved bald though if he looked hard enough Chris could spy speckles of grayish fuzz on his pink dome. He was a brave man to have shaved his head as he did for he had the biggest ears the mourning wolf had ever seen on a human being, and it wasn't just the fact that they were big but they stuck out too, like the wings of a huge butterfly were plastered on either side of his head. His face was something else, it looked somewhat squashed in with his gray/blue eyes set small and close together giving him a rather feline look and making those ears look even bigger.

Ignoring the eye catching features of the man Chris recalled he had been asked a question. "Yeah, you could say that."

"What is it?"

Had he been himself and out of the small rut he had just put himself into with his thinking Chris would have snapped at the old fool for not minding his own business and desiring not to be anywhere near a human.

Settling for another route he forced a semi-kind smile that looked more of a snide smirk than anything else, "I'm not really in the mood to talk about it."

"Well you look like you're about to go on a date with a bottle of hard liquor. This is one of those matters where you need to look to Lord Almighty-"

Whatever else he had to tell him was lost to the wind as his mind instantly zoned out upon hearing those words. He hated that, he wasn't sure if anything else in the world made his blood boil more than when peopletold him useless things like that. The elderly did it the most as well as 'reformed' sinners; they always viewed him as a lost soul and told him what he needed to do. Not what he wanted, an escape from his dulled cutting pains of mourning.

Silently calling Missy back to him away from the now groaning children who desired her affectionate company he began his trek homeward.

"Hey wait, I'm not finished!" The odd looking man stated waving his hand to Chris's retreating backside.

Giving a careless wave behind him he moved on, "I've heard it all before."

They all said the same thing, to turn his life over to God and Jesus, the first person to give him the speech was savagely chewed out by the semi-drunk widower, it took both Henry and Dwayne to get him down. How could he explain to them his situation, his pain, his…his bitterness to all of mankind and their God?

Of all the people to speak with him only one had really offered him the sort of comfort and relief he sought. It had been difficult breaking the news to everyone, telling them the sketchy details of their eloped marriage, of the happiness they shared bounded together, and then of her unexplainable murder (though instead of murder he was forced to tell her that she was caught in the fire that burnt the den down).

With each friend that he was forced to tell the routine became more and more sober, that was except for one, Patricia.

Patricia, he never truly liked being around the drug addicted girl longer than what was necessary and that was when Carmen was with him, but when he relayed to tragic news of his loss, their loss, the world's onto her she quickly popped a pair of pills into her mouth and succumbed to the artificial euphoria.

She didn't want to feel the pain. She didn't want to feel any sort of pain anymore, as long as she had those pills all pains and sorrows were mere fairy tales and myths, all inexistent in her world.

In her drugged haze she had managed a sort of compassionate favor; she had reached into the back of her medicine drawer and removed a single orange prescription bottle filled with a multitude of small pale pills. 'For when it gets to be too much.' She had said before scribbling a few directions on a sheet of stationary paper then fell on her bed unmoving.

He didn't know then that she had intentionally floored herself and until whatever it was she took had worn off she wasn't about to get up. But then it didn't worry him, or rather it didn't concern him. He merely pocketed the 'gift' and instructions and on his way out snatched a black and white photo from the wall.

For awhile he had lived blissfully in her world, a world without pain, without any memories of his sadness, in that world all that remained for him was the euphoric bliss, the otherworldly calm that transcended his aching heart. But the artificial paradise was closed off from him when one fine day Gylda found his pills and flushed them all down the toilet.

'You can mope and drink all you want, but I won't have you destroy yourself like this!' That had been her war cry as he demanded to know what she was doing.

Walking on he looked upwards into the bright blue sky, scattered with thin white clouds, it being mid-spring the weather was quiet nice and warm warmer than usual but still cool enough that children had to play in their jackets.

Anyone would agree that the day was beautiful, a sort of day that would bring cheer onto anyone. But for him the persistent chirps and chatter of the pigeons and other domesticated city birds, the bright light, and the budding flowers did nothing, to him the world was forever dulled and darkened as if he were viewing the world through shades.

There were times he was grateful for what Gylda had done, and there were times he wished he had hid his little bit of happiness in a pill far better.


Well there you have it the beginning of the second part of Friday for those of you who couldn't settle for the ending I left you with before. I apologize if this isn't up to par with my earlier works but don't worry this is only a catch up chapter. I promise better later on.