That Time of the Month

Cheap perfume hit me in the face as Sam strode through the door. He barely nodded to me as he threw his jacket on the back of the couch and headed straight for the dining room table. I stayed at the window, squinting at the night sky.

“This is cold,” he muttered between sloppy bites.

“Of course it is,” I replied. “I made it hours ago.”

“You'd think you didn't care,” he sneered.

“Well, why should I, in my condition?” I turned to him.

Sam swallowed hard. “Condition?” he asked.

“I haven't found the right time to tell you this,” I began, “not with you being out so much recently.”

“But I thought you were taking the pill,” he stammered.

“Oh, I was,” I said. “I guess I forgot, and then I forgot that I forgot. There's nothing you can do about it now.”

Sam dropped his fork and bolted up from the table. “You can't be serious,” he shouted. “How can you be pregnant? I haven't touched you in weeks.”

I felt the cold warmth of moonlight bathe my back. My jaw began to ache as my teeth started to pull in their sockets.

“You cheating idiot,” I smirked. “Not THAT pill. The other one.”

The horror washed out all the color from Sam's face. He took a step back, only to trip over his chair. I went to stand over him, watching him pant and squirm in fear. The stench of his panic overpowered the cheap scent.

“You promised,” he pleaded.

“I'm not the only one in the room who has broken a promise or two,” I snarled.

With that, I raised my snout to the ceiling and howled in triumph to the full moon.

Word Count: 297