The air was thick with a metallic stench, the sharp scent of iron clawing at my throat. Rivers of blood poured down her nape, soaking her dress. My fists pounded against the copper-furred wolf, its jaws locked around her neck.

Suddenly, a blinding light swallowed everything, and I blacked out.

I woke up in the hospital minutes later. I told the authorities what had happened, but no one found any sign of an animal near the bridge. It wasn’t the first time strange things happened around me—that’s why they called me the Black Rabbit.

Months later, Mom and I climbed into a camper and started over.

We had been on the road for two days, and now we were in an area designed to accommodate vehicles equipped as homes. I left the moving boxes and stepped out of the trailer, walking through the parking lot until I reached an empty lot.There, among the soil, I found a cluster of zinnias with fiery petals, like my soul that shines and burns. I breathed in their sweet fragrance, and my lungs filled with tranquility.

Suddenly, I noticed movement behind a nearby shed. I approached and saw a boy with curly hair and big, wide eyes, trying to hide. On his white t-shirt, someone had written “crybaby” with a black marker.

—What are you looking at? —he asked, crossing his arms as he tried to hold back his tears.

I couldn’t just ignore it. The way he hugged himself made his anger and sadness painfully obvious.

—What am I looking at? Oh, just someone who's totally losing the funny face competition.

I crossed my arms too and pulled the most ridiculously exaggerated face I could—crossed eyes, puffed-up cheeks like a blowfish.

He blinked, confused, but after a few seconds, a small, shaky laugh slipped from his lips.

—That doesn’t even count as a funny face! —he said, still giggling.

—Oh yeah? Let’s see you beat this! —I shot back, dramatically attempting to look like an alien with antennas, using two twigs I’d found on the ground.

The boy burst into laughter, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. He looked about ten or eleven at most.

—You’re weird —he finally said, a smile starting to light up his face—. My name’s Jassiel.

—I’m the weird and surviving Juno. That’s my name, Juno, with a J.

—I wasn’t planning on writing you a thank-you letter —he replied with sarcasm. I was starting to like this kid.

—Jassiel, listen closely, if anyone bothers you, you don’t have to put up with it. Learn to stand up for yourself. If they’re stronger, then be smarter than them.

He looked at me seriously for a moment, then nodded.

—I have to go—he said, waving goodbye.

I immediately went back to the zinnias and, as if nothing had happened, I asked softly:
—Can I touch your leaves?

I felt a silent affirmation in their energy. Gently, I brushed their rough texture, and instantly, meteorites of burning memories exploded in my mind. It made sense—zinnias symbolize eternal memory... but all I wanted was to forget.

At fourteen, I thought I had tamed the pain. Over time, you deceive yourself into thinking it’s gone, but it only lurks in silence. It’s a wolf in the shadows that lives inside you, with calculating, patient yellow eyes. It moves stealthily, waiting for the moment you let your guard down, and when you do, it devours you mercilessly, leaving only ashes where roots once were. Because pain doesn’t leave—it embeds itself, shapes you, turns you into something else.

Have you ever begged that wolf to stop tearing at the inside of your chest? Sometimes I wonder if humans should be immune to feeling pain. But if we were, we wouldn’t be able to experience love either. And then, what would be left of life?

I noticed that one of the zinnias wasn’t giving off even the faintest glow. I stepped closer.

—Why do you suffer, little flower? —I murmured.

As I touched its stem, I felt the dry earth beneath my fingers. I took out my thermos and poured a few drops of water onto it, watching as it absorbed the liquid eagerly.

—I hope this helps you.

Have you ever felt the cry of a mountain in its deepest silence? Heard the whisper of the wind through the trees, like a lament lost in the air? The stars guard ancient stories, and in their code of light, they give us answers when we feel lost. The earth vibrates with a muffled scream, holding in its own pain. Nature, like the soul and the body, suffers, falls ill, trembles… but it also shines.

—Juno, come on. There’s a lot to unpack—my mother called from a distance.

It was my first time in Virewood. A huge town where, according to Ava, my mom, I would make friends soon. I walked over to the trailer to help her.

Around us, several trailers formed a small, noisy neighborhood. In front of ours, a group was grilling meat on a barbecue next to the trailer. A fat man, with his belly exposed, was turning a thick piece of meat over the coals, while another, thinner man smoked tobacco and drank beer from a nearby chair. Suddenly, he shouted at a girl, a couple of years younger than me, to stop climbing the trees, saying she looked like a "boy." She shot him an indignant look and kept climbing, silently challenging him.

—Mom, I think our neighbors are... "especially peculiar"—I commented, pointing to the man by the grill—. Look at Mr. "King of the Barbecue," he totally looks like the final boss of a video game, but with an apron and a spatula in hand.

—Juno, please, don’t start.

—What do you mean, "start"? I’m seriously considering challenging him to a duel to discover the secret ingredient of the meat. And if I win, he has to pay us in ribs!

My mom let out a stifled laugh as she went inside the trailer to put away the plates and cups. I followed her.

—And did you see the girl in the tree? We’re going to be friends. I’ll teach her how to do ollies, and then we’ll start an extreme skateboard gang.

—A skateboard gang?

—Of course! We’ll call it "Wild Wheels," we’ll be a legend!

Ava burst out laughing and leaned down to kiss me on the forehead. —You’re a lost cause, my Juno.

Then I started organizing my room. I unfolded the bed, set up the desk, and nailed together two planks to make an improvised bookshelf. When I was almost done, my mom appeared in the doorway.

—It’s time for me to head to the hospital, I’m on call—she said, adjusting her jacket. She was a nurse, and her calling to help had always been a part of her nature. She had managed to transfer from her old hospital, and tonight would be her first shift at the new one.

—Oh, by the way, I enrolled you in the town’s school. There was space in the electives you wanted—she added with a smile—. How do you feel about that? Tomorrow’s your first day.

—I have high hopes— I replied, forcing a smile. Although, deep down, the idea of facing a completely new place felt a bit intimidating.

—We’ll be fine, Juno—she said, as if reading my mind. —Think of this as a new chapter. This place… will be ours. It just needs a little love, and you’ll see, there will be many new and happy experiences.

I watched her in silence, biting my lip as I studied her pale face, the dark circles she couldn’t hide, but still illuminated by a warm smile. I knew it was hard to put down roots when the ashes hadn’t completely cooled, but for her, I would try.

—Stay inside the trailer, don’t go doing one of your crazy stunts, okay?—she warned me, with that mix of concern and love that only a mother can give.

—Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not doing any epic roof jumps with my skateboard today… I promise!—I joked, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Words never seemed enough to say everything I wanted, but I knew she understood. —I’ll see you when you get back.

When the door closed behind her, I stood there for a moment, breathing deeply. I was alone, but not really. The weight of everything we had been through still lingered on my skin and in my soul, but maybe this place was an opportunity to start something new.

Later, in my room, I ran the pads of my fingers over the spines of my books, searching for something to distract me. Finally, I picked up The Echo of the Forest Spirits. I was already at the last chapter, and if I was scared, what could happen by looking at a couple of gloomy illustrations? Hopefully, I’d find a scene that would make me laugh. I settled into bed, letting myself be enveloped by the stillness. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes abruptly, alert from a sharp sensation that ran across my skin like static electricity. In front of me, in the darkness of the room, the shadow wolf was bristling, motionless, like a latent threat. Its eyes glowed in the dim light, two yellow stones staring back at me, as if they were sizing me up.

I threw off the covers, and the book flew off my chest, hitting the wall. A guttural growl echoed, low and deep. I tried to stay calm, but the tension filled me like a knot in my stomach. I carefully got off the bed, trying not to make any sudden movements that might make it leap at me, but its eyes followed me, fixed and piercing. Before I could react, I felt the swipe. I quickly got up, "wounded" but determined to escape. I shot out of the trailer, grabbed my skateboard, and started rolling. I knew I was disobeying my mom, that I didn’t know anyone in the area, and that I shouldn’t be out alone on the street at night. Still, I did it.

—Hey, girl, are you okay? —asked the neighbor who was still smoking tobacco.

I ignored him and walked away, feeling the wolf following behind me, moving through the shadows, growling like a threat that never lost track of me. As I glided on my skateboard, the cold night air stung my eyes, but I couldn’t stop...
The road stretched endlessly beneath the wheels, my thoughts solely focused on escaping. When I looked back again, I noticed the shadow wolf was following me with a hungry boldness, getting closer and closer, moving faster. But the beast didn’t need to bite me to destroy me; its presence drained my energy.
I hadn’t told mom anything, but when I opened my eyes after the accident months ago, the wolf was there, sitting next to me, and it never left.