Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Lena's Pov:

I stood frozen in front of my mirror, my heart pounding in my chest. The reflection staring back at me was unrecognizable. My once chestnut-brown hair had turned stark white, a ghostly contrast against my pale complexion. Panic surged through me, making my hands tremble uncontrollably.

Frantic and scared, I reached for another smaller hand mirror, hoping that this was just some bizarre trick of the light. As I grasped the mirror's edge, a sharp pain shot through my hand, and I recoiled in shock. A thin trail of blood trickled down my palm, but something was horribly wrong. The blood was white, not the deep crimson I had expected.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the unusual sight. Questions raced through my mind, colliding with each other in a whirlwind of confusion. What was happening to me? How could my hair turn white in an instant? And why was my blood no longer red?

Fear enveloped me like a suffocating fog, consuming my thoughts and leaving me feeling helpless. I examined my hand, the white blood mingling with the tears welling up in my eyes. The sight was surreal, like a scene from a nightmare. I couldn't comprehend the implications of what I was witnessing.

Gathering what little courage I had left, I tried to make sense of the situation. Was this some kind of strange illness or a cruel prank played by an unseen force? I knew I couldn't stay frozen in fear forever. I needed to find answers, to understand the truth behind this eerie transformation.

As I considered confiding in my father and letting him know about the inexplicable changes consuming my body, a wave of guilt washed over me.

My father was already grappling with the weight of his own sorrow, navigating the intricate web of emotions that accompanied losing a life partner. The last thing he needed was for me to burden him further with my own bewildering predicament. He deserved the space and time to mourn, to heal.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about the pain etched on my father's face, the emptiness in his eyes.

In the midst of the unsettling changes I had just experienced, a profound sense of difference washed over me. I felt like an anomaly, a puzzle piece that no longer fit in the picture of my known existence. Who was I now? Where did I truly come from? These thoughts consumed me, leaving me no choice but to seek solace and guidance beyond the confines of the ordinary world.

With each passing moment, my conviction grew stronger. I knew that seeking spiritual aid was my next course of action. Tomorrow, I would need to go and see the Pack's Witch, Mara. She would be the only one who can guide me and tell me the meaning of all that was happening now.

-:-

As the gentle light of a new day filtered through my bedroom window, I awoke with a heaviness in my heart. Yesterday's events still clung to my thoughts like a lingering shadow, and the pain of losing my mother was still fresh and raw.

Sadness washed over me, tinged with a profound sense of confusion. How could she have passed away so suddenly, leaving me to navigate a world that suddenly felt empty and bewildering? Something strange must've definitely happened, this is not normal

Yawning, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I made my way towards the mirror like an unseen force. With quickened steps, I made my way to the reflection that held the answers to my altered existence.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw that the ethereal white hue remained unchanged.With trepidation, I reached up to touch my hair, my fingers threading through the strands.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I glanced back at my reflection, contemplating the grief that had enveloped my world. Why did my mother have to leave me so suddenly? The weight of the loss felt unbearable, an ache that seemed impossible to soothe. I yearned for understanding, for a sense of closure amidst the chaos.

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the mirror. Today would be a day of remembrance and mourning, a day to honor my mother's memory. People would definitely.be downstairs to pay condolences, and I was neither in the mood for attending to the visitors nor going to school. Today, I would be on my way to see the Pack's Witch.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I made my way down the stairs, fully aware of what awaited me in the living room. Just as I had anticipated, the space was filled with condolences visitors, their murmurs and hushed tones forming a somber backdrop to the morning. My heart went out to my father, who stood at the center of it all, shouldering the weight of their grief and offering comfort in return.

The sight of him surrounded by so many people only a day after my mother's passing tugged at my heartstrings. His face, etched with sorrow and weariness, revealed the immense toll that such a loss had taken on him. It seemed unfair that he had to bear the burden of attending to these visitors, comforting them while his own heart was shattered.

I quietly observed from the doorway, feeling a mixture of pity and admiration for my father. The strength he displayed in the face of such adversity was awe-inspiring, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It was as if he had set aside his own grief momentarily, devoting himself to assuaging the sorrow of those who had come to pay their respects.

With a quiet sigh, I gently walked away from the living room and entered into the kitchen, careful not to disturb the condolences visitors who filled the somber space.

I began making breakfast – bacon and eggs, and ate quietly on the kitchen when it was done. When I had finished eating, I went to my bathroom to freshen up and then I got dressed. I put on something simple; a pair of joggerd and a hoodie, covering my white hair with the hood.

Afterwards, I left through the backyard and made my way to the Pack's Witch...