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Word Count: 1819
~Kezziah
I'm sucked into a distant memory without my permission.
Two years ago.
It's a foggy night tonight, which isn't very common in the Vengeance Pack. The mist is draped across the road, lacing around trees boughs and street lamps. With every step I make down the asphalt, it twists around my ankles before creeping away like rampant small creatures, slipping through gutters and fluttering around loose leaves.
I need to stop sneaking out at night, especially with winter encroaching. There is nowhere for me to be, and no one for me to see.
The cold seeps threateningly through my knitted sweater. It hasn't been this icy in a long while. It's fascinating, if I ignore the crawl of unease across my skin. I was planning on spending the night wrapped up in thick woolen blankets reading the buttery yellow pages of a lamp lit book.
I took one glance out the window while I drew my blinds closed, and knew I had to experience this odd phenomenon.
My fingers brush across the tendrils of mist, watching it curl and bend into perplexing patterns. I should head back, the night almost seems whisper, the breeze hustling past my beanie covered ears.
The soles of my feet become suddenly frigid to the ground.
The mist seems to gather up the road, in the distance, yet not so far. My eyes meet it, then raise, catching on to a figure. It's simply a shadow, despite its position bathing under the street light.
My blood runs cold, my bones stiffen and fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The enigmatic figure does not move, simply remaining like a distant memory I cannot decipher. With only looking at it, something tells me to turn and run.
But I can't.
I inhale deeply, steadying myself as quickly as the mist had vanished by that next morning.
All eyes are on me. Jade eyes, blue and brown. Their accounts of meeting Time, truthful or not, are not difficult for them to recall. With my hesitation, I can already tell they are confused, or curious or simply weirded out.
"I don't really feel that comfortable talking about it, right now," I tell them. And by right now, I mean never.
Etta blinks blankly at me, her mouth opening like she was going to say something. Amilia, however, snaps a harsh glare at her, making the girl decide against speaking. I'm grateful. Jade eyes me suspiciously, though, clearly not accepting my uncomfortable excuse very believable.
"That's okay," Amilia says, although her tone is wary. "Everyone has a different experience."
By her saying that, I realise she isn't going to tell me her story. None of them will. Me deciding to keep that from them isn't the best beginning to this strange friendship, but I'm not about to tell them. Not when guards stand near, camera's trained on this table, ready to report back to Alden what I recalled.
Before I can make some wild excuse they most likely won't believe, an abrupt, stomach wrenching sound comes from the table next to us.
"Layla, are you okay?" a girl with the finest ginger hair I've ever seen, who I noticed was no good at hiding her eavesdropping skills earlier, asks her friend, who sits in front of her.
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Alpha Alden ✔️
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