The Persistent Alpha, & Resistant Luna

1. Just My Luck .

"Alright, Dad. I'm out." I flicked my coat on and tied the laces to my combat boots.

"Where you headed this late, princess?"

"Just.. out." I shrugged, flipping my sun-kissed brown hair from under my coat.

I hated when he called me 'princess'. It's not that I didn't love my dad, but I never felt like we had that kind of relationship for him to.

Not since mom died.

Minette 'Minnie' Absolon-Du Val.

Wife to Auguste Du Val, mother to Nova Du Val, but a friend and family member to many.

Gone but never forgotten.

I hated reading the stupid funeral card, but I loved reading my mom's name. Dad never keeps pictures up or anything around the house that reminds him of her.

But I know everything does.

It's been three years and it still feels like just yesterday we got the knock on our door about mom's accident.

"I won't be out too late." I kissed him on the head before walking towards the front door.

We both knew that was a lie though. I always stayed out late. Well.. beyond late.

When mom passed away, I couldn't stand being in the house anymore. Every chance I got, I climbed out of my window, down the side of the house, and found something to get into.

When I was old enough, he couldn't stop me from just walking out the front door, so window climbing really isn't necessary anymore.

Connecticut is usually still warm in September, but with the on and off thunderstorms we've been having lately, a coat was essential.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, walking out of the neighborhood, making my way to my favorite escape spot.

The walk was pretty far, not too bad, but it was definitely worth it for where I was going.

After mom died, I ran and ran until I collapsed. I felt like I was in a daze, some twisted version of reality. But when I finally snapped out of it, I realized where I was.

I was in a small field, the opposite way this path leads you through into the woods. Everyone always followed the path, afraid that if they strayed from it, something lurking in the woods would get them.

But if they weren't so chicken shit, so got damn afraid.. all they had to do was walk a little ways away from the path, and find themselves in a glorious field, small but worth the find.

What attached me to the place was that I was in it before.

With my mom.

I was young, very young, but I remember her holding my hand while she hummed, as we strayed from the path and emerged through beautifully bloomed flowers.

That's what I loved about my mom. She wasn't afraid to do what others wouldn't. She got a thrill from adrenaline rushes and doing things no man or woman would have the heart to do.

It was that eccentricity about her I missed, how free she was and made me feel.

I sighed. Mom, I miss you.