"Wait here, I'll be back in ten minutes." That's what my father said to me two hours ago. Now its getting dark. The wind is blowing, I can hear wolves howling at the moon, and fog is slowly creeping up my legs, like a bath tub filling with water. I'm scared.

Maybe I'm starting to far ahead. It all began when- wait; that's such a cliche. Still, I suppose every story has a beggining, so I might as well start like this. So anyway, it all began when I came home from school with a black eye. Hurt like heck, it did. As soon as I walked into the room, dropping my school bag on the floor and kicking my shoes off, my mum came rushing over and smothering me with kisses, calling me her little baby. I hated it when she did that: no, hate. I hate it when she does that. I will find her... anyway, after putting some special stuff on to help it heal she left me on my own. I went to my room upstairs and watched TV. There wasn't anything good on, but for want of anything to do I kept watching. I didn't want to start on my homework yet. Couldn't be stuffed.

Things started getting interesting when we heard the familiar sound of our dad walking up our gravel driveway. I'm not sure why we had a driveway actually, we didn't have a car. There was no point as we lived only half an hour away from a supermarket and some other small shops in town. If we needed anything out-of-town, we'd just ask our neighbour, who had a car, and she would lend us the car. Mum usually made brownies for her when she got back, but I wasn't allowed any. But anyway, I'm off the point. Where was I? Dad. Yes dad. So dad was coming up the drive, and mum yelled at me to unlock the door for him. We kept the door locked practically 24/7. Dad doesn't have a key for some reason. I don't think he likes them which is odd. But then again, my dad has always been a little eccentric at times. So I flicked the TV off and slowly dragged my feet down the stairs. I quickly unlocked the door and was about to go back upstairs before dad saw my eye, when the door flew open and dad, literally, jumped into the room. "What's up champ?" He asked me, pulling me into his arms in a big bear hug. About then was when he noticed my black. Eye.

"Who did this to you?" He asked in a quiet, but deadly, voice. Whenever dad spoke like that you did not want to mess with him.

"Chuck, from school." I replied nervously.

"I'll kill him!" Dad roared. "Where's the phone? Someone get me the stinking phone!" Then mum walked into the room, wearing oven gloves.

"Honey, calm down." She told him soothingly. Mum has this thing where she can almost instantly change dad's moods. Dad took a couple of deep breaths and then asked me what happened.

"Well," I explained reluctantly, "It was lunch time, and mum had given me some money to buy a hot lunch for a change, and anyway, I was standing in line when Chuck pushed in front of me. I said to him, hey, no cutting. He just turned around and told me to shove off. He spun around again, facing the front of the line and when I tapped him on the shoulder, he spun around and hit me." Dad just stood there for a second, looking thoughtful. This worried me, everytime dad had a though things usually didn't go good.

After I had told dad about what happened at school, he went off and read the paper. I didn't hear anything else from him until we sat down at the dinner table at 6:30.

"Mmm, good meatloaf!" Dad said as he took an unnescesarily large bite out of his meatloaf. "Y'know boy," Dad said, now focusing his attention on me, "I reckon me and you should go hunting this weekend. Shoot'n a nice dear will toughen you up."

"No dad!" I protested, I love animals, though I wasn't about to go vegetarian, I just love meat too much. Dad, supposedly impassive to my comment, kept on going on about it. "Yup, I was nine when I shot my first dear. Pity you're already eleven, I should have done this a couple of years ago. Still, that toughened me right up! Didn't have any bully problems after that." All the while, mum just stared at the two of us like we were talking about something normal. That's the good and bad thing about mum. She isn't too worried about what I get up to, but sometimes she's not worried enough. And so the next weekend, dad loaded a tent, a couple of 22's, some ammo, and other equipment into our neighbours car, they were staying home for the weekend and let us borrow the car. Dad, actually did have a licence. I don't know why he bothered getting one when we didn't have a car, he always said it would come in handy one day.

I needn't talk about the trip to the forest. But I will anyway. Maybe I'm putting off writing what happens next. It hurts. I don't know why I write this. Maybe it makes me feel better. I don't know. I don't spend much time reflecting on my feelings. I'm just trying to stay alive. Anyway I passed the time dreading about what was to come as the car bumped along the cheap gravel road. It needed fixing, but the government wasn't about to do anything about that. The trip seemed to come to an end all too quickly. I only really first noticed we were already out of the car until my dad dumped a rifle into my hands. And then we were off.

"Wait here, I'll be back in ten minutes." That's what dad said to me two hours ago, when we heard a wolf. Now it's getting dark. The wind is blowing, I can hear wolves howling at the moon, and fog is slowly creeping up my legs, like a bath tub filling with water. I'm scared...