At 17 years old Sage Aurora never thought she would be stuck trying to rebuild her life and mending her heart.
Throughout her younger years she thought nothing could stop her. She was popular, free-spirited, and felt on top of the world. At least t...
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The cool air whipped your face as you walked out of the school doors focusing on the trees ahead. You were shaking from Ms. Kelleys office and needed some alone time to process what just happened. Aside from your first therapy sessions after the incident, you did not cry with other people. The first couple sessions you had were helpful, but everything after that was routine 'talk therapy' mumbo-jumbo; breathworks, recognizing your negative thoughts, replacing your negative thoughts with something else. It was all the same after a certain point. But that was because you basically ignored any of the helpful tips they tried to give you and instead replaced your thoughts with dangerous things.
You made your way into the clearing and took a seat on your bench. After a minute you pulled out the notebook and opened it to the first page, staring at it as if it was going to do something. You used to write a lot. At one point it was your escape. But now it felt like a chore and your passion for it had slowly gone away.
You reached into your bag and grabbed a pencil now tapping it against the page lost in thought.
"Stories, drawings, poems, a letter to someone". Ms. Kelley's words replayed in your head as you bit the side of your bottom lip in contemplation.
You sat there for a moment longer allowing your thoughts to lead your hand. Hoping your ability to write would come back to you in this much needed moment. You pressed your pencil to the page and let what came to your mind flow through. 'Hunted By Wolves'.
You didn't know exactly what it meant, but somewhere within you, you did. You continued to stare at the three words for a while, not able to come up with anything further.
"Fuck it", you thought and reached into your bag pulling out your tape player and pushing the notebook to the side. You put your headphones on and played 'Mr. Tambourine Man' by Bob Dylan. The sound of slow acoustic guitar began to flood your ears as you closed your eyes, and the trees around you settled with the midday breeze. You felt calm. Much better than you did earlier.
You sat there drawing sketches in the notebook of mundane things not important to its purpose and you figured you could hang out here for a little while longer since you had three more periods before everyone fled the school for the day. Humming along to the melody a familiar, yet annoying, face popped up in your peripheral vision. You turned your body as Eddie sauntered over to the bench.
"Oh here we go", You thought to yourself and put your head back down.
"So we're making this a daily ritual now?" Eddie grinned as your gaze traveled from your notebook up to him.
He was wearing his dumb Hellfire shirt, with his ratty old leather jacket and stupid jean vest. You moved your headphones around your neck as you quickly closed your notebook, noticing him eyeing it. He took the hint and threw his bag onto the table.
"Definitely not" you scoffed as he plopped down in front of you as if you two were hanging out.
"Well, seeing as you've apparently claimed my table, it looks like I now have to share". You rolled your eyes in annoyance at his words.
