Silver Bullets Don't Work

By Tina Jericho

Lindsay is in her final year of high school and is forced by her mother to take a babysitting job for one of her co-workers, Priscilla Thomson. Lindsay arrives at the home and finds out that the boy she is babysitting is named "Fang". The little boy talks ominously of "monsters outside" while waiting for the full moon to appear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trellis Publishing
• Release date: Jul 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201836627

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SILVER BULLETS DON’T WORK

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TINA JERICHO

table of contents

SILVER BULLETS DON’T WORK

HUNTING WEREWOLVES

There were five minutes, one hour, and three weeks until school was over with. I counted down on the clock for the last bell of the day to ring. It’s a crisp Friday and strange weather for May. I didn’t mind that it was kind of chilly. I would be spending my day inside anyway, not that I had a choice.

My mom decided that she could sacrifice my free time in order to form stronger relationships with her work friends. This time, it was babysitting for Ms. Thomson. My mom was especially eager to be friends with her since she was a fellow divorcee. I had felt bad for my mom since the separation, but it was now a full year later (they divorced on the 13th of May the year before) and it was beginning to take its toll on my social life. I was a senior and having one of my Fridays compromised this late in the school year was horrible. Now that the sun was out most days, so were many of my friends. Needless to say, I’m not that thrilled.

After school, I did have some down time. I decided to do my homework early. This way I could at least go out tomorrow night. If my mom tried to stop me, I could just bring up how I babysat for her, how she kidnapped my Friday, so basically she owed me one.

We have lived here in Springfield for about a year. Last summer we moved here, right after the house went up for sale. I wasn’t that happy of transferring before my last year of college, but I understood it was what was best for my mom. She was having a hard time making friends and I felt a little bad for her. I appreciated the fact that she refrained from dating. That was one of my biggest fears. Having to deal with some asshole coming in and messing with my mom’s already fragile emotions. Dating other men would inevitably lead to disappointment and she’d take that out on me.

The smell of pork chops wafted to my room and I took that as my cue to finish the problem I was on and go down to dinner. My mom was setting the table, pouring wine for herself and some Mello Yello for me. She was taking the edge off, in her words, but I always wondered why and how she had an ‘edge’ to begin with.

Hurry up and eat, she said, looking at her watch. Mom was like that, always thinking of something she had to do next and never enjoying the moment.

I want to be in the here and now, I said. I want to enjoy your cooking.

She gave me an odd look and poured herself some more wine. We don’t want to be late. The whole point is for Priscilla to get out of the house.

The divorce had made my mom become obsessive again. She would often flick lights on and off three times in a row, lock and re-lock a door three times in a row, and would have to have things set in threes. She always kept the lights a little damn and set a third place at the table. Seeing the third plate setting kept the