October 23rd, xxxx
LATA WANTS TO GO outside beyond midnight walks with an ebullient blonde haired boy but no one lets her. They say it's for her own good, they say she must rest, they give her a dog to pet as if giving a petulant child sweet to suck on.
But she's not petulant. She's overwhelmed and hurt and scared and Rain is gone and it's all her fault. She knows it's all her fault even though she remembers nothing.
Her mind a total blank, a maze of darkness that if she stays in for too long, she'll smash into a wall and the pain will bang in her head, starting from deep, recesses of her skull before reverberating through her entire body.
In the dead of the night after an hour or so stroll, when she'll truly be alone with no one, no crickets for company, no dog, not the moon, she'll cry.
Hot tears that'll seep into her dreams that turns into nightmares, her tossing and turning to fleeting, rapid images that makes no sense to her.
Something will jump at her—fangs, claws, a rod, she'll jolt awake in cold sweat hyperventilating. Then dawn will break and the first face she'll see is of the Doc smiling through mollifying teeth, prodding her with food and basic questions she'll hasten to the bathroom as a buffer.
The one they call Major will amble in next, faithful dog at his heels looking at her with that forsaken pitiful expression she hates, hates and drop her head away from.
He'll leave and when afternoon comes, friendly Hayan with tray of food for two will come keep her company, chattering on and on about friends, schoolwork, the mundane and it'll be in this state of non-stop chatter the Doc and Major—sans dog—will simultaneously arrive again to check up on her.
Tired of her monotonous life so bad she could scream... And so she does, startling everyone. But it isn't sudden. She's wrung tight as if abrout to lurch and fall. The Doc nearest to her tries touching her arm but she yanks it free, hitting the tray of food to the ground.
They tell her to calm down, to take deep breaths but jumping down from the bed, she's screaming her head off. The Major stalks closer but stops when she picks up a shard and uses it as a weapon, as a barrier, they back off.
"Drop the glass, Lata or you'll hurt yourself," Doc beseech but she shakes her head, tears free falling.
"Leave me alone. Leave me alone. I want to go home!"
She doesn't know where this home is but Rain is home. She wants to go to Rain.
"Lata—"
"Don't look at me like that. Stop looking at me like that!"
He shuts up at a loss for what to do but his unwavering eyes on her, the frustration in his eyes almost mirrors her own as if he knows what she's falling, as if he understands.
This makes her break down, shoulders trembling in convulsing tears, the racking sounds of it breaking her heart. He tells her it'll be okay but she knows he's lying—this heart wrench squeezing her chest, punching the breath out of her hides behind her ear and whispers that nothing will be fine. Nothing can be fine.
Rain is dead, dead, dead and it's all her fault, fault, fault, how can it get better? It'll never be better because she's a stupid, foolish little thing that don't...
Something touches her arm and she recoils, the arm holding the shard slashes the air... No, not the air. Hayan. It slashes her cheek. Through tear foggy eyes sees the flesh open, bloos trickles in thick blobs down.
Hayan's mouth hang open too stunned to speak. Lata should apologize, she must, she must, she must but something in the air shifts and she looks up and away from the blood to the door, the hair at the back of her head rising.
YOU ARE READING
Making The Alpha Submit (BL)
Werewolf"I can't do that," he says softly, staring absentmindedly in the whiskey glass, "I'm the Alpha." "So?" "So, I'm not supposed to be this.... submissive," he spits, eyebrow creasing as if the whiskey glass is a rotten tomato. "Come here." Kamil instru...
