The Owl Post would like to share this anonymous letter we received.
I will not tell you my name, and I will not tell you my age. You can try to guess my gender but it won’t do you any good.
There is not a lot about me that I will tell you, but what I will tell you is that I am a werewolf.
I was infected on January 1st. What year? That part is none of your business.
Before January 1st, my life was normal, fun and exciting, with plans as I got older, plans to travel, places I wanted to work, things I wanted to do, places I wanted to see, rules I wanted to break. All of it was open to me.
After January 1st, I spent the next week or so at St Mungos, not even sure if I would live, and some times wishing I wouldn’t. My family stood around me, but they did so with a mixture of confusion, fear, and worry in their faces. They thought they could hide it from me. Even after my stay at the lovely facility, I was homebound for a little while longer.
Returning to my exciting, fun and normal life was not easy. And in fact, it was not possible any longer. People told me I would always need to be careful of outing myself. Told me my plans would need to change. They warned me of so many differing opinions surrounding werewolves and half-breeds.
I was no longer a ‘who’, I had become a ‘what’, and with no willingness on my end.
Did the person who infect me know what they were doing? Maybe. Were they in control, on their potion and purposely intending to harm me? Maybe. Were they in a position where they could no longer afford to take the potion, and were trapped in an endless cycle? Maybe.
I’ll never know.
All I know now is that one day that could be me, rushing to find a potion, knowing what is at stake if I do not, knowing I could hurt innocent people if I do not, or even hurting myself.
I used to have a pretty good idea how my life would turn out, with the usual twists and turns of life, but now it’s blank, now it is a struggle.
You want to hate me? You want to encourage others to hate me? That’s ok. I’ll laugh at you. Others like me, they may laugh at you too. Why? Because beneath the words, beneath the anger those words create, beneath it all, I can take it.
Myself, people like me, we can take it.
Do you want to know why?
Because since our infection we have already overcome more than ordinary magical folk ever will, and we will continue to overcome what is thrown at us, because we survived. And we will keep surviving.