TWO ALPHAS, ONE MATE

HUNT| 2

Taking one final deep breath, I push myself off the floor and start running deeper in the forest. I cannot comprehend my actions. Surely, I have gone crazy.

Not only am I continuously breaking my promise with Crystal, a promise meant to ensure my safety, but I am willingly going deeper into this forbidden forest.

I try to dismiss these thoughts. It is not the right time to become distracted or conflicted. I must keep moving forward, further away from him. Yet, as I am running, my thoughts seem to keep bringing me back to earlier events.

Am I relieving my last moments before death?

After Crystal broke the news to me in the morning, Crystal and Josh went home. Originally, we were supposed to go back into my house and celebrate like we have always done after a triumph. But Crystal and Josh claim to have gotten a call from their parents.

I was puzzled when they broke the news to me. I could not recall Crystal or Josh receiving a phone call. This was one of the many mysteries my friends shared.

They often left me unexplainably and out of nowhere. But a coordinated excuse was always given.

They often completed each other's sentences as if they could understand the other's thoughts. Sometimes it is sickening how perfect they are for each other.

Just a constant reminder that I would never have what they have.

I walk through my front door.

"Surprise," my mother yells, popping out the kitchen.

My house is full of balloons. Eight giant gold helium balloons ran across the living room, reading CONGRATS.

"Mom, what are you doing here? I thought you were working today."

I walk toward her to receive a bear hug.

In my mother's embrace, I feel the safest. There is no feeling like it. I release her, looking at her, as she grabs a hold of my hand.

I am a spitting image of my mom. We are both around 5'2 with jet-black wavy hair. The resemblance is undeniable. However, my mother has blue eyes which I envy.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey. I am working. I just asked for a few hours off from the hospital so that I can set this up for you and see you in your cap and gown. You look amazing. I am so proud of you," my mother says, trying to fight back tears.

"It's okay mom. I understand. I'm just glad you could see me."

"If your father was here, he would cry and tell you just how amazing you are," my mother says, unable to hold back the tears this time.

I know the cause of my mother's sentiment. My father died when I was five in a car crash. My mother did not talk much about him, and I don't remember him.

But, when my mother remembers him, I can always sense her heart breaking. My mother loved him deeply, and I hated seeing her in pain. So, I never questioned my mom about my father. I was always contempt with the fact that he must have been a great man.

He must have been to have the love and respect of my hardworking mother. My mother is a nurse tech and works countless hours to ensure that I had everything I needed, more than I needed.

"Mom, don't cry," I say, wiping a tear away from her face.

"That's right. No crying today. Today is your special day," my mother says, letting go of my hand, collecting her work belongings.

"Actually, honey, I thought you were going to hang out with Crystal and Josh today. It's the only thing that gave me a piece of mind in leaving you."

"Change of plans. They got called in by their parents," I hesitantly answer.