Hang in there, readers. :(
[Slate] I am tired. Unlike almost everyone else, I haven't had a chance to sleep. I spent much of the ride down holding Cindy’s hand. She had been crying in her sleep. Crying over the hurt I caused her with my harsh and unnecessary words. I don’t know why I feel it is necessary to be such a brute to her. I guess seeing her kissing Drew all those nights ago still has my heart stinging. It isn’t like we meant anything to one another, but I guess…I guess part of me had been hoping for something I should have never wanted in the first place. Her. Once I step out of the van, I walk towards the truck stop store. As I grab an energy drink in the small shop I look out the window and see Doctor James waiting in line for the bathroom, bouncing up and down from foot to foot.. Feeling grateful that I had taken care of my needs at our last stop, I continue shopping, picking up a bag of chips for myself, and one for Cindy. I miss our lunches together. Maybe I can recover our friendship during
[Hyacinth] The roar gets louder. The rogues touching me have fallen to the floor, except for the last one who is looking back the way they entered with fear in his eyes. I am trying to stay awake, but I can’t. The world is going dark as a clawed hand reaches forward and grabs my last attacker by the throat. My eyes are too heavy to remain open. My body is useless, my arms and legs are heavy like bricks--cold, hard, and completely drained of life and energy. I don't know what just happened, but my body did something to protect me. Something powerful and deadly. Whatever it was, it wasn't natural. Is it possible that my hands can hurt? And if that is true, can they also heal? Was everyone right when they assumed I had healed that little girl with my hands? Does it even matter? Based on how I feel right now, I'm going to die soon anyway. I can feel my body slowly shutting down. Is this what it feels like to die? Two strong arms smelling of sea salt and pine lift me from the dirty f
[Hyacinth] I must have misheard the Alpha. I'm starting to wonder if I dreamed everything that happened as I was falling asleep in the hospital because when I woke up, there was no sign that he was ever there. Even his scent was gone, wiped away by the antiseptic smell that often accompanies hospital settings. A nurse came in and helped me dress as she eased me into a wheelchair. "Standard procedure," she reminded me even though I grumbled at the unnecessary nature and how I could walk on my own. "Tsk tsk, Dr. James. You know better." They admonished me. "After a shock as bad as the one you suffered after your attack, you're lucky the doctor isn't holding you here another 48 hours for observation. But your alpha was quite insistent that you be released today." The nurse has that far-away look that many she-wolves have when thinking of our alpha, "So we are releasing you to the care of your pack." Drew was waiting for me in the receiving room, rocking back and forth on his heels n
[Hyacinth] Am I a murderer? I cannot remember anything about the events of that afternoon. I don’t even know if those men succeeded in touching me, or if someone came in and saved me. I don’t know how or why I woke up in that bathroom surrounded by dead or dying men. Not to mention how did my son know? How did Bash know about the bad wolves, how many of them there were, or if they were dead or not? There is so much about my son that I have yet to understand. And it would seem, so much for me to learn about myself as well. I couldn’t bear to be at home any longer, so I decided to head to work.I need a distraction from rehashing all the negative thoughts running through my head, but also because I need answers. My mind is full of too many questions, none of which I can answer from my bed. Sitting at my desk at work, I take a break from the morning shift of seeing patients and pull out the two folders I had been looking at before. I don't know if I will find any answers with
[Hyacinth] The second file, the one about my own medical care, was not nearly as exciting as my mother's. There was a picture of me at birth along with all of my mother's prenatal records duplicated from her file. I had been born healthy, with no complications. From there I see I had annual checkups, and received all of my vaccinations on schedule. Other than the fact that it is an exceptionally well-organized file, there is nothing out of the ordinary. Except for one thing. A small red dot in the notes section of my annual checkups for years 5 and 15, which I only noticed by chance because the file fell onto the ground, and I tried to put it back together in the beautiful order it had been left in by Dr. Stevens. It felt disrespectful to leave it in disarray. I checked the original box that these files had been removed from, but there was no file marked with a red dot or any kind of folder or envelope with my name on it. The significance of the dot is lost to time. There is also
[Hyacinth] Something tells me I’m going about all this the wrong way. Why am I making this so much harder than it needs to be? There is one person out there who probably has all the answers to everything I want to know, both about myself and my mother. The man who was there from the beginning. Dr. Stevens. “Lisa,” I approach her as I walk through the clinic the next morning, rested and refreshed after a long, quiet night at home. Drew never came back that night, and part of me hopes it is because he spent his night with Blake. Bringing my focus back to the task at hand I ask. “Do you know where I can find Dr. Stevens? Did he leave a phone number or any other way that I can contact him?” “Oh yes!,” She perks right up, happy to be of use. Jumping down from her chair opens up a file cabinet that creaks from disuse and rust. “Here it is.” She pulls out a card. On it is an address to a PO BOX in Davenport. No phone number. No physical address. “Is this it? No real address.” She nods.
[Hyacinth] There is nothing extraordinary about Gold River Elementary School. It looks exactly like any other elementary school you might find in any other part of the country, in any other pack. There is matching art on the walls and the hallways make a dull echoing sound as you walk down them, especially at the end of the day like right now. The school must have called Drew as well because he was waiting just outside the classroom door when I made my way down there. I’m not sure what to say to him. What do you say to the man who has been your companion for the last two years, and more recently your boyfriend, that you told to go pursue his mate? We had never done more than kiss, but in our way, our relationship was very deep. We were a family. He grabs my right hand with his left and gives it a little reassuring squeeze. "It’s going to be okay,” he tells me although I don’t quite hear it because I feel something cold against my palm and look down. I already know what I’m going t
[Hyacinth] My heart is happy seeing my friends together. I can tell they are nervous, standing side by side, bashfully looking at one another while also looking at me for approval. So I rush up to the two of them and give them a giant hug. "I am so happy for both of you!" Blake relaxes in my arms, releasing some tension that she has been carrying since I walked through the door. Sebastian comes along and hugs us as well and we feel like a happy, joyful family. And I guess in some ways that is exactly what we are. Our family has just expanded. There is more than enough love for all of us to share. I love Drew. I guess I always have. In some ways that made it so easy to fall into a relationship with him. He feels familiar, like a favorite sweater that makes you cozy and warm, but isn't always enough. He's a great companion to both me and Bash, and it is obvious that he loves us both very much, but I am not in love with him. I cannot think of him as a lover, which is why I think we