The Night I Became a Werewolf
One average night, just as I lay down to sleep in my bed in Connecticut, I heard a long, low, almost mournful howl pierce the air. My brother who was sleeping in the bed next to me shot straight up. After a couple of exchanged worried looks, we lay down and fell back asleep. I had the most realistic dream I've ever had that night.
In my dream, I rose up from my bed and slowly got taller than I knew I was. I slowly made my way to my brother and placed a, what I thought was, my hand upon his shoulder. What I saw caused me to pull back my hand. I had a claw, a human, furry hand, with long claws. The shock of this made me almost strangely but intensely angry. I began thinking of all the crap I've been through my life and realized I could make up for it now in blood.
I ripped through the screen separating the room we were in from the outside. I began a slow hunched jog, gaining speed slowly over time. As I picked up more momentum I instinctively dropped to all fours, trees rushed past me as I gained more and more speed. I felt so powerful, so in control, so alert at every living thing within the forest that was mine for the night.
I began an intense hunt of any living thing I could get my claws on, snakes, rabbits, foxes. All fell prey to my claws and gnashing jaws. As the night grew older, I almost immediately, without warning shot back towards the house. My "dream" ended with me leaping back up towards the window in which I had left the house.
The next morning my brother had his arm wrapped in gauze. When I asked what had happened, he stated that something had scratched him in the night, and he awoke bleeding into his sheets. This startled me considering it should've scabbed. On the way to shop with my grandmother, we encountered dozens of lifeless animals that looked like they had been ripped to shreds. That is a night I'll never forget.