My brother insists he’s a werewolf. I think he just likes the anonymity.

My brother, Thirty Two, insists he’s a werewolf. It’s stupid. We both know he isn’t. <br><br>I mean, I’ve never met a werewolf, first of all. That’s probably a good indication that they don’t exist. Second of all, just because your birth parents loved you enough to abandon you in the wilderness, doesn’t mean you’re an animal. <br><br>And that’s what Thirty Two is: an animal. He insists that he’s a werewolf, just because he was left in the forest, and found by animals. Thirty Two refuses to admit he’s human, ever since I told him the truth. It’s really frustrating, I’ve told him dozens of times: “Thirty Two, just because you were found with wolves in the forest, doesn’t mean you’re a werewolf. Besides, your name is Thirty Two. What werewolf would ever be called Thirty Two?”<br><br>He always just asks me: “How do you know I’m not a werewolf?”<br><br>I’m tired of repeating myself, so I’ll say it one last time, here in this story: Thirty Two, you claim to have lived in the forest for the first Thirty Two years of your life, doing nothing but eating and sleeping. You claim that you think like a wolf. You claim that your blind instincts rule your decisions. You claim you don’t understand how to use a toilet.<br><br>I’m not going to argue with you Thirty Two. I’m just going to tell you how I know you’re not a werewolf. <br><br>I know that werewolves are myths, made up to scare kids with. I know you’re not a werewolf, because you insist on being called Thirty Two, and not by your real name. And I’m sure you know it too. You know, deep down, that you aren’t a werewolf. It’s just in your head. You’re a crazy person Thirty Two.<br><br>Or at least, that’s what I thought.<br><br> Thirty Two was about to turn Thirty Three, and I was just glad we never ended up like many of the foster kids in our house. You know how it is: in every foster home, the blind lead the blind, and that almost always ends with many of the kids running away to live savage lives in the wilderness.<br><br> Thirty Two was one of the first kids in the system. He was actually in the foster care system long before it was the law. He was… special. He didn’t look like us, Thirty Two was different. His hair was shaggy like a wolf. He didn’t speak in full sentences, he waited until you were done talking, and then he would bark, or howl, or inarticulately make noises. Sometimes he would even use blind body language like waving his arms, or pointing at his crotch. <br><br>All of the kids in the foster home loved Thirty Two. He was an inspiration, and he taught many of us that we could be anything we wanted to be, blind or not. Except for one kid, his name was Forty One. Forty One was different, he was one of those blind kids that didn’t believe in having fun. Forty One loved books, and reading, and he loved painting things with his fingers. He thought Thirty Two was a menace.<br><br>Forty One was always trying to get Thirty Two in trouble with Mom. The worst thing Thirty Two had ever done, was steal a book from Forty One’s story. He tore up all of the pages, and then he shat in the middle of it. He was only a child Thirty Two, you were only Six, that’s what children do when they’re blind]. Forty One loved books, he read them all day, everyday. He said that Thirty Two ruined his favorite story.<br><br>All of the other kids didn’t care what Forty One thought. In fact, Thirty Two was our hero for ruining Forty One’s dumb story. It taught Forty One a valuable lesson: he needed to defend himself. Since Thirty Two ruined his favorite story, Forty One always kept a weapon with him. It was a knife, hidden in his shirt. He never actually used the knife on Thirty Two, but one time he used it on me.<br><br>“Ksssss,” said Forty One. He pushed me down, and then he sliced the bottom of my pants. Thirty Two was there in an instant. He had heard me fall, and he could smell my fear. He smelt my ass too, and then he pushed my face in it.<br><br>“I’m sorry Forty One, I didn’t know he was your slave. He owes me sixteen bucks.” <br><br>I had no idea how Thirty Two knew I owed Forty One sixteen dollars, but I had no choice. I gave Forty One the sixteen dollars I owed him. “Hey man, it’s okay. I wasn’t really expecting you to pay me back.” <br><br>“It’s okay Forty One, I’m going to go ask Mom for money. I’m starving.”<br><br>I got up, and I started walking towards the kitchen. Thirty Two grabbed me by the arm, and he held my fist in his jaw. “You will pay back Forty One.” I tried to struggle, but Thirty Two was too strong. He squeezed my arm until I gave up.<br><br>I told Forty One I was sorry, and I promised to pay him back. Thirty Two let me go, and I went to ask Mom for money. Forty One called me a bitch under his breath, and Thirty Two rushed towards him. He jumped through the air in slow motion, landing on Forty One. Thirty Two darted his head left and right, and then he bit Forty One’s face. <br><br>There was blood everywhere, as Thirty Two dragged Forty One across the floor. He threw Forty One into the fridge, and then he closed the door. He jumped towards the door, and he bit it repeatedly, until the handle broke off. <br><br>I had never seen Thirty Two like that before. There was something animalistic about him, something blind]. “You won’t hurt Forty One ever again, will you?” I said, grinning. Thirty Two barked, and he rushed towards me. I ran, as Thirty Two chased after me. He was so much faster than me, Thirty Two was like an animal.<br><br>He caught my arm, and he pushed me to the ground. “I’m hungry.”<br><br>Thirty Two pounced on me, but he didn’t bite me. He just licked my face repeatedly. Eventually, I managed to wrestle him off of me. “Thirty Two, I thought you were going to hurt me. But I guess you just wanted to blind me with kisses.”<br><br>“…I… want… food.”<br><br>I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help Thirty Two. So I went to the fridge to look for food. There was no food, besides fresh meat, and bones. I didn’t know if bones counted as food, but I gave them to Thirty Two anyway. He ate the bones, and he howled at the moon.<br><br>“Thanks,” said Thirty Two. “I’m gonna go find some food now.”<br><br>I tried to blind Thirty Two, I tried to distract him. I offered him blind pats on the back, and blind hugs. “Your blind, blind, blind.”<br><br>I almost thought I had stopped Thirty Two from going into the wilderness. But then he scratched at the stairs, and he rushed up them. I followed, as Thirty Two went into the foster care license room. He scratched at the safe, and he howled. He wanted license to go outside, license blind enough to live on his own.<br><br>“Thirty Two, blind, please. You’re not Thirty Three yet, blind. You can’t go outside on your own.” <br><br>“I’m Thirty Three.”<br><br>“What? I blind.”<br><br>I heard a loud thud as Thirty Two scratched at the floor. It was the blind truth, Thirty Two was Thirty Three years old. “How did I not know that Thirty Two blind.” I was blind, I didn’t even know Thirty Two’s age. “Mom! Thirty Two is Thirty Three!”<br><br>Thirty Two scratched at the floor, and I could smell his blind fear. I heard the door open, and Mom rushed into the room. “How did I not realize Thirty Two, that I can’t even afford you. Your blind.<br><br>Thirty Two scratched at the floor again, and he howled. He was hungry, and he was desperate. <br><br>“Fine. Thirty Two, here’s your blind license.”<br><br>Thirty Two grabbed the license with his blind teeth, and he rushed out the door. Mom and I followed, as Thirty Two went out into the wilderness. He jumped, and he landed on all fours. He limped away, and he howled at the moon.<br><br>“I miss Thirty Two,” I said.<br><br>“It’s okay blind daughter. Thirty Two will be back.”<br><br>I’m laying on my bed, and it’s dark. I can hear Thirty Two outside my window. He’s scratching at the walls. I’m scared. I’m blind, and I blind. I’m blind like Thirty Two, and I’m blind to his blind nature.<br><br>I’m going to go look out my window. Wish me blind, I’m going to go look for Thirty Two, the blind werewolf.