The car ride back home was quiet, occasionally mom would whisper something to dad and he’d respond, but I was so focused on my own thoughts I never caught anything they said. After another long drive down the main road dad pulls the car into the driveway next to the house. Once we get inside before I have a chance to walk up the stairs to my room dad stops me.

“Natalie, your mother and I would like to speak with you.”

“I’m tired dad, can’t we talk tomorrow?”

“No, we’re doing this now.”

His tone is strong and serious, which tells me I won’t be able to talk myself out of this one. So, I turn around, walk over into the living room where they are and sit down on a couch across from them. They both sit down on the sofa across from me, and for few moments no one says anything.

“I overheard your interview with the officer tonight,” dad begins, “when he asked you if you saw who shot the young man you told him you didn’t see anything…” I nod, “You lied.”

My heart starts racing and my eyes widen in shock, ‘How? How did he know I was lying? And why was he eavesdropping on my interview?”

“Dad, why would you accuse me of something like that? I didn’t li-”

“Natalie, I am you father! I know when you’re lying, I just don’t understand why? Now is the time to come clean. So, be honest and tell your mother and I what really happened.”

I should’ve know that they would see right through me. I’ve never been a very good liar, at least when it come to my parents. We’ve always been honest with each other and never kept any secrets; I can trust them… can’t I? I look at their faces, my mom looks concerned with a hint of fear. My dad looks concerned as well, but there’s no fear just… disappointment maybe? ‘What should I do? Do I tell them what really happened? Do I really have choice, I mean dad saw right through my lies at the hospital, and he wasn’t even fully in the conversation to begin with. I can’t lie to them.

“Alright fine. You got me…” I feel so ashamed. Did I do the right thing when I lied to Officer Beckman? “I got home from school and went for a hike, maybe like thirty or so minutes in I saw two hunters pointing their gun at a…” This is where things get tricky. It feels like I’m eight years old all over again and I’m about to tell my parents some bizarre story that I made up, about a young boy turning into a wolf after he saved me, only this time everything is completely opposite; this time he’s a wolf at first and then changes into a person, and I’m the one who saves him. It all sounds so crazy to someone who wasn’t there to experience it firsthand.

“A what? Natalie.” Dad asks.

I take a deep breath, “At a black wolf. I didn’t want them to notice me so I hid in some tall grass. I watched one of them coach the other on what to do as he aimed his gun at the wolf, I know that it’s illegal to hunt wolves here, and it was so beautiful and unique I didn’t want it to die. So, I picked up a small rock and threw it towards the wolf to startle it and cause it to run away. One of the hunters shot at it as it ran away. They went after in the direction they thought they saw it go, but I watched it turn and go a different direction, so I followed it to make sure it was ok.”

“You ran after the wolf?” Mom asks

“Yes.”

“Why? It ran off, you were already in a dangerous situation. Why would you put yourself in more danger just to ‘make sure’ it was ok?”

She sounds angry and terrified that I made such a stupid decision. “Well, I don’t know, it was on impulse. I didn’t fully know what I was doing in the moment. I know it was already a dangerous situation, but you know me, I had to make sure it was ok.”

“Oh Natalie.” Mom rubs her hands over his face.

“Ok, well how does the young man play into this situation?” Dad asks.

This is where things get complicated. “Well after following the direction the wolf went in for a few minutes I started to think maybe it got away in time and wasn’t injured. Then I heard this whimpering behind these bushes, and when I moved them to see, I saw the wolf at the bottom of a hill lying in a pool of blood.”

“So, what? You climbed down this hill to help it?” dad asks, still waiting to hear about how the young man plays a part in this story.

“Not until after it,” I stop. I’m in the same situation I was in ten years ago, only this time I’m more hesitant about telling the truth. What are they going to say when I tell them the wolf turned into the young man we drove to the hospital? What are they going to think? Are they going to say that my mind was just playing tricks on me again? Are they going to believe me this time?

“After it what, Natalie?” Mom asks

I look at them feeling worried and scared about telling them the truth. I don’t want them to think I’m making this up. I want them to believe me this time.

“Just promise me. Promise that you are going to hear what I’m about to say, and that you won’t judge me.”

“Why would we judge you sweetie? Just tell us the truth and we can help you get through this.” Mom’s voice is always so sincere, but after she hears what I’m about to say, she’ll think I’m crazy.

“Just promise me, please.”

They look at each other, then back at me.

“Alright, we promise.” Dad answers.

“Okay… When I found the wolf at the bottom of the hill, after a few moments… it… I, I watched it… I watched it turn into the young man we took to the hospital tonight.” I can’t look at them. I just look down at my hands clenched in my lap. And my eyes begin to fill with tears. “I know you think I’m crazy! And I know that you’re going to say that it’s not possible, and that my mind was just playing tricks on me but, I know what I saw!” the tears begin to run down my cheeks and I start to lose control of my breathing. I’m sure my parents look confused and a little disappointed that I’m back on this topic again, why wouldn’t they be? Ever since then I knew that I’m wasn’t the only one who’d received the cold shoulder and cruel attitude towards what happened ten years ago, my parents had been ridiculed for it as well. People would tell them that they let me venture out too much, that they should’ve kept a better eye on me. And that they should’ve taught me the difference between reality and fantasy. I close my eyes as my sobs get louder and my tears begin to soak my hands. Suddenly I feel an arm around my shoulder and it holds me tighter and tighter. I open my eyes. My mom has moved from the sofa to the couch next to me and is now wrapping me in her arms. My dad gets up and kneels down in front of me gently grabbing both of my hands in my lap.

“Oh sweetie, we don’t think you’re crazy. We have NEVER thought that.” Mom says as she wipes the tears from my eyes, but it’s no use they’re just replaced with new ones. “Come on, please don’t cry. We’re here for you. And we love you.”

“But, y-you don’t be-believe me!” I can’t control my breathing and my sobs make it hard to speak, I know they love me, but they don’t believe me and that’s what hurts.

“Who said we don’t believe you?” dad interjects, I can hear his voice crack from his emotions. I look at him and his eyes are filled with tears. I don’t ever see my dad cry, and this just made me want to cry even more; to think that I was causing him more pain. “Sweetheart, we love you. And yes, this may be hard to grasp, but it doesn’t mean that we don’t believe you or think that you’re crazy.” A tear escapes his eye and runs down his cheek.

“I’m just causing you more pain! All these years’ you guys have had to face ridicule by everyone in town because of me, and now it’s going to get worse, all because of me!”

“Honey, you are not causing us any pain. We’re just worried about you. I know this can’t be easy, we may not fully understand what you’re going through because we weren’t there when these things happened, but we’re still here for you, and will help you get through this.” Mom says brushing my long hair away from my face, “It’s going to be okay. I promise, we’ll get through this together, as a family.”

“O-okay.” My sobs are becoming more controlled, and I can feel my emotions begin to dull, “S-so, yo-you belie-believe me?” I look at each of them, my dad nods. I look back at my mom.

“Of course.”