The actual story of Red Riding Hood-- (now for zozo2308's and Stormy_and_Daimen's story contest)

Do you know the story of little red riding hood? You know, the one with the impersonating wolf? That was a fairytale. It was based off of a true story. Now this? This is the real thing.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I stop watching the full moon and the stars, and I reach for the red coat near my bed. I don’t know what time it is, all I know is that it’s too early. Good. I grab the rifle in my closet as well as a jacket and a red snow cap my mom sewed for me, to cover my ears. I wrap the jacket around me tightly. Its winter and I don’t want to get frostbite. I look beside me and see my little sister turn in her sleep. I tuck the thin, patched covers around her. I creep towards the door, trying to limit the creaks in the floor. I shut the door and check on my mom. I smirk at the site of my mom spread out on the bed. She looks warm enough. I put on my boots, you know, the one with the hole on the side of the left one. I then walk out the door and into the thick snow. Before making any more loud noises, I shut the door, making sure my mom and my sister do not wake up. I hear the crunch of the snow in my ear and feel some of the snow fall into my boot and become water. I move towards the woods behind our house and keep an eye open. Since its winter, animals don’t usually come out much, especially at this time of day. I am usually able to find their hideouts and have an okay meal for the day, but, I’m not sure why, they’re getting limited now. I hear a branch twitch from behind me and I quickly reflex over. I see nothing, but set up my gun, just in case. I spot an abnormally large rock. I smile, dinner, here I come! I feel around it for an entrance and find it cover by twigs and leaves. I’m impressed by the intelligence of the bear or bears, if I’m lucky. I enter the small cave and look for my prize. I see it, but stop in my steps. Something else is already eating the now-dead bear, a wolf. Shoot. I quietly step backwards, to make sure the wolf doesn’t come after me behind my back. I hear a twig crack. The wolf turns toward me and I’m able to see all of its features. The wolf is all grey besides the blood stains around its snout. Its eyes are a bronze color with little specks of yellow. The eyes are soft; scared and sad. I lay down my gun and walk slowly towards it.
“Hey. You are a pretty one,” I say reaching out a hand for it. The wolf growls and its eyes turn dark. It barks at me and makes me back away. I trip over my feet and cut myself on a rock. I look down at my wrist and see the blood ooze out. Could I be any clumsier? I try to stand up, but it turns out that I sprained my leg as well. I look up and see the wolf move stealthily towards me. No. I can’t die. I can’t leave my mother and my sister by themselves with nothing to eat and no way to have income. I have to make it out of here alive for them. I reach for the rifle a few feet away. I strain to reach it and can almost touch it, when the wolf kicks it away.
‘Why do you have to be so smart?’ I think as I close my eyes. There is no way of surviving this now. There is only one thing left to do, wish the rest of my family luck.
‘Please let my sister, Savvy get into college, after finishing high school. Please let my mom have the strength and courage to find a job. Please let Savvy find a handsome, kind, rich guy to love her and support her. Last, but not least, I wish.’ I stop wishing. I feel something wet on my hand. No, it’s more near my wrist. I open my eyes and I see the wolf licking my right wrist. I expect it to hurt and for me to start to black out, but I don’t. I watch the wolf as it continues to lick the wound. It notices me watching it and stops. I look down at the wound, and it has cleared up. Not even a scratch remains now. I start to sit up, but remember that my leg is still broken. The wolf starts to heal my leg as well. When it finishes, I sit up and scratch it behind the ears, like it’s a dog. To my surprise, the wolf doesn’t push me away, like it did before. I softly touch it’s snout as it snuggles into my hand.
“Thank you,” I whisper into its ear. I wrap my arms around it like it is a stuffed animal and pet it one last time. “I got to go, though.” I stand up and grab the rifle still lying on the ground. I leave the wolf to its meal and walk out of the rock. I look up at the sky. The sun is about to rise. The pretty colors of orange, purple, pink, yellow, red and grey start to form the magnificent sunrise. Although I have seen this almost every day of my life, it never gets old. I see a bird fly through the sky and I prepare the rifle. I aim at the bird and shoot it down. The whole forest has gone quiet. Even the crickets have stopped chirping.
“Nice shot,” I hear. I turn around me and see a tall boy standing behind me. I am still pointing my gun at him. “Lower that gun, girl. I don’t want to hurt you.” I lower it to my side, obeying his wishes. He points straight forward. “I think it went that way.”
“Yep,” I say, “About a few yards.” The boy looks around 16 or 17 years old, so he is around my age. He has black-grey hair and light brown eyes, sort of like the color of wet sand. He is taller than I am and is wearing a messy t-shirt and shorts. This is what surprises me the most. “Aren’t you cold in that,” I say, pulling my red hat down. He shrugs.
“Not really. I may even be warmer than you.” He grins and dimples appear on his face. Hoping that he will go away so I can continue hunting, I turn the opposite way and walk toward my win. I slip through the woods swiftly and see my bird lying still on the snowy ground. The bird’s blood stains the snow a crimson red, reminding of the snow cones me and my sister had before we were stuck like this, before dad had to go to the hospital. Ironic, my dad being a doctor and becoming so sick to a thing he can’t cure. Now all the money I earn for trading with the butcher or any money I find, I donate to my father’s hospital fees. I wish things can just go back to the way they used to be. I take out the bag I always use to catch my earnings with. I turn the bag inside out and clutch the bird. I then flip the bag, that way the bird is inside the sack. I turn back around to hunt some more, when I see the guy standing in front of me again.
“I’m not going to give you my bird, if that’s what you want,” I say.
“No, I have enough food. I just want to help you.” I frown and eye him suspiciously.
“And why would you want to help me?”
“I want to help you because you don’t know how to get food in the winter,” he says and takes a step closer towards me. He is the spark to my bomb, and he just ticked me off. I move an inch closer to him as well and hold up the bag.
“Then what is this?” I ask him, boastfully.
“That is only a lucky win. Think about how many birds will fly overhead in the winter? Probably one or two birds will this month, at most. You need a constant supply.”
“And what may you suggest, oh smart and caring one,” I mock.
“Fishing,” he says. What the hell?
“You can’t go fishing in the winter.”
“Oh, yes I can.”
“No you can’t.”
“Cut a hole into the ice, stupid.” Did he just call me stupid? Let me show him my grade reports and then let us see who is the stupid one, eh?
“You’re the idiot. There is no water around here. And how are we going to be able to cut a hole in the ice?”
“Cut a hole by using a saw.”
“I also asked where.” He smirks.
“A twenty minute drive from here. It shouldn’t take that long.” He’s right. It shouldn’t take that long; if I had a car!
“What am I supposed to do, hijack a car?”
“No. Ask me for a ride.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” I ask him
“You would do it because you haven’t stopped talking to me.” He just pushed my temper off it's edge. I walk past him with my sack of bird meat. He grabs my arm and spins me around. The guy stopping me and spinning me around does not surprise me. His hand is on fire. Not literally, but it is really warm.
“You’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. How are you so warm?”
“I’m always warm.” This kid is so weird, but I do need the food for my family.
“Fine, can I have a ride?”
“No,” he says flat out. What?
“What do you mean no. You went through all that trouble trying to persuade me. When I finally say ‘sure’ you say no? Who the hell does that?”
“I was only joking,” he waves a set of keys that he takes out of his pocket. “Come on, let’s go.” He leads me to an old, worn down truck.

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