02|Bruises

“Fucking whore” That was what she heard before she was roughly shoved against the wall. Dorothy hissed in pain and her head buzzed, the unrelenting ringing echoing in her ear.

Without having the time to take her next breath, a hand shot out, and she was smacked across the cheek, the sound reverberating through the hall. Her head snapped to the side and her cheek reddened at the speed of light. She staggered backward, but the back of her neck was held by her assailant.

“How dare you flirt with Zac”, Sophie hissed, and Dorothy would have rolled her eyes at her words if it wasn't the hand that was slowly deriving her from the air. Of course, blame the innocent girl who got hit on instead.

“Know your place, slut. If I see you near my mate again then I wouldn't mind cutting off that darn tongue of yours” Sophie sneered as she released her grip on Dorothy’s neck, leaving her gasping and coughing for air, a simple mess.

“She is just like her mother.”

“Exactly”

The continuous whispers and murmurs of the students filled the hallway as they glared at her, but she didn't care. That wasn't what annoyed her since she was used to their harsh words anyway, but what annoyed her was Zac, the supposed innocent mate, was currently giving her a smirk.

Asshole, just because she said no to him.

“Baby, don't worry, I wouldn't even look at her even if she begged me” Zac held Sophie’s hand as they strode off, leaving her alone in the aftermath of their torment.

After a few minutes, she managed to stand on her feet. She licked the blood from her lips and scoffed. From her analysis, she concluded that she had a swollen cheek, a black eye, and some cuts and bruises on her back.

“Great, a new collection added to fading ones” she muttered under her breath as she picked up the old and torn bag on the floor that needed stitches again.

***

Dorothy stopped right at the door of an old and tattered house, her hands dug through her bag, finally reaching for the concealer and brush. She used exactly three minutes to cover up her bruises and black eye, and she had to admit that was one thing she was pretty skilled at.

“Drop that cake!” She yelled as she opened the door. The ninety-year-old culprit jumped and immediately pushed the half-eaten slice of cake back into the fridge. Miss Agnes, the pack diviner, well the former back diviner, chuckled nervously as she walked away from the crime scene with her cane, her back hunched and her steps slow.

“You know you can't eat too much cake, Agnes” Dorothy nearly chuckled at the puppy dog eyes thrown her way, but she held it in as she scolded the old woman. Agnes was the only person who was truly good to her in the pack, and she was the only one who employed her as a caretaker and, thanks to that, she could finally afford her tuition fees.

“I just wanted to check if it had gone bad” Agnes made an excuse, her words slurred as she licked the icing on the cake off her fingers. Dorothy rolled her eyes and she headed to the kitchen ready to prepare dinner for the sneaky old woman.

“Anything you want to eat today?” She asked but there wasn't a reply. She turned around, startled to see Agnes staring intently at her face, the wrinkles around her eyes drew closer. Dorothy’s heart skipped a beat, did she figure out the bruises? Oh no, she probably did a bad job hiding it. She didn't want the only person who cared to see her like this and, most importantly, she didn't want her to find out she was hated by the whole pack, what if she hated her too?

Her brain seemed to freeze for a moment before a smile bloomed on Agnes’s face. “I want to eat cake”.

Dorothy choked on her spit. She hit her chest repeatedly as she stared at the ignorant woman deemed to be deranged by the entire pack. Laughter echoed in the tiny house and she nodded her head. “Okay, but cake after dinner,” she replied with a warm smile.

It took nearly an hour for Dorothy to get Agnes to bed, and it was only after getting her cake as promised. “Goodnight”, she whispered as she tucked Agnes in. Her hand patted the old woman's wrinkled ones.

She got up and turned but stopped when a hand reached out and held hers.

“Do you still have dreams?” Agnes asked and Dorothy raised her eyebrows. Agnes didn't have her usual expression anymore. This time she seemed right in her mind.

“Yes, but it's blurry and I can't remember much” she replied honestly.

Agnes didn't say anything and Dorothy smiled and kissed her head.

“Don’t worry about me” she whispered and turned to leave.

“Just a little more time my dear, you will meet him soon” Agnes stared at her, but she didn't hear the whispered words as she closed the door.

The walk home was quiet, she preferred using the trail leading to the woods since no one else crossed that place at night.

As she drew nearer to her destination, she held her breath, her feet barely making a sound —something she had learned to master. She held the knob and twisted it, cursing at the creaking noise the door seemed to make as she opened it slowly.

But before she could even step inside the dimly lit house, a plate came flying through the air at her, shattering into fragments upon impact. She hissed sharply at the pain as blood dripped on the floor and coated her shirt with hints of red.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and then the silence was finally broken by a yell.

“Fucking whore!”

Ah, there it was, the infamous nickname.