Once upon a time, there was a boy who cried wolf. He would run into the middle of town everyday screaming there was a wolf in the sheep field, then the townsmen would run with their pitchforks only to their sights to be some peaceful sheep eating grass. Then they would sigh and laugh at the boy. The townspeople started to hate the little boy and stopped checking when the boy would run in, yelling, “There’s a wolf! There’s a wolf in the sheep field!” They would roll their eyes as he panicked for their attention. This had been going on for two weeks. One night the boy went home to his father. 

“Samuel,” His father said in a stern voice. 

“This has got to stop.” Samuel shuffled in his seat, not saying a word.

“Do you do this for attention? Why?” His father shook his shoulders.

“I’m not lying!” Yelled Samuel, he then ran out of his seat and up the stairs of the cabin to his room. Slamming his door. 

The next morning he did it again. Grabbing onto the peoples sleeves who walked past him.

“Please! Someone! Believe me! He wears a dark robe!” To which the townspeople laughed. 

“Wolves don’t wear robes.” The smiths man chuckled sarcastically. 

Suddenly he started screaming. 

“Look he’s right there!” Samuel screamed, pointing a few feet in front of him. He ran all the way home, slamming the front door closed behind him. 

“Samuel!” His father yelled after him, as the boy ran crying to his room. His father followed after him slowly opening his son’s door, the boy trembled under the covers. 

“Son. What are you doing?” He spoke softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. The boy turned over facing away. 

“I’m not lying,” Samuel whispered. 

“Hm?” 

“I’m not lying,” he said a bit louder.

“He… He’s there, I see him. He’s evil looking. He smiles at me, and follows me into town after I feed the sheep.” He removed the blanket from over his head. 

“You believe me. Right papa?” he asked. His father rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. 

“Papa…?” He said tears filling his eyes. His father stood up, walking to his door.

“Get some rest,” His father said slowly, closing the door behind him. 

Next day, same thing. Samuel ran into town yelling about the wolf. The people seemed to care less each day as today they paid no attention to the boy. Pretending he didn’t even exist. Till he tried grabbing someone’s arm, his hand went through theirs. 

“What?” Samuel whispered, confused. As he tried again, it went through another person. 

He walked up to a group of older women peeling potatoes, waving his hands in front of them. 

“Oh did you hear about poor Mr.Gavins son?” they whispered, they talked about Samuel’s father. 

“I can’t imagine how he feels. Samuel was so young, did they find out how he died?” Panicked, Samuel ran home. 

“Papa!” He yelled walking through the door of the house. Only to find his father crying into his hands at the dining table. 

“Papa, I’m here,” Samuel whispered, trying to grab his father’s hand. A doctor walked down, holding his bag. 

“Would you like to see him before we take him?” the doctor asked sympathetically. His father nodded his head as he stood up. Samuel followed walking up the stairs. His bedroom door opened and he saw himself. Laying in the bed, lifeless, limp. His father broke down holding Samuels body’s hand. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around quickly, and the wolf stood over him. 

“Im sorry , boy,”  the wolf spoke. 

“You did this,” Samuel whispered. The wolf patted his shoulder.

“W…why?” The boy looked at his feet then back at his grieving father. 

“It was your time, did you not know you were sick? I was trying to warn you. I’m sorry.” The wolf walked over covering the lifeless body with the blanket, the father not even realizing from his tears. 

“I can’t just leave my father, I’m the only thing he has left,” Samuel said with foggy eyes. 

“You have to let him go, I’m sorry,” the wolf said, guiding  him by his shoulders out of the room. 

“We have to go,” the wolf talked comfortingly to Samuel. They walked down the stairs and out of the door. He held his hand out for the boy. 

“Where are we going?” Samuel asked melancholy, still processing this. 

“To a better place. I guide kids to the afterlife.” Samuel stood staring at the village as the sunset, a mixture of red, purple, pink and orange painting the sky.

“Let’s go.” The wolf held out his hand again, this time Samuel taking it. As they walked into the woods.