I Can Hear Your Voice

t w e n t y - o n e

June 17th.
6:01 a.m.

[Luka's POV]

I woke up feeling tired.

But more than anything, I felt a major sense of deja vu.

I groaned into my pillow. Ever since mom stepped onto the property, all I had done was comfort her silently, staying by her side. I didn't know for what reason I was comforting her for, but I nonetheless stayed with my mom until she calmed down enough to fall asleep, ignoring the confused wolves around me who wanted to badger me with questions. They held back though, thinking that I didn't have many memories enough to answer their questions. And they were definitely confused because I guess I had never told anyone about my family.

Knowing myself, I would've never told them about my family.

My memory was strange. I remembered everything but nothing at the same time. I remember Matteo, but I didn't remember him at the same time. Everything had gaps; everything had something missing. I don't remember any of the things I've done or said to Matteo, but I remember most of everything of Matteo.

I remember elementary school, with some gaps. Middle school had holes. In every single spot or time of my memory, there were gaps I couldn't explain. And even in the happiest of my memories, there was a trace of sadness and pain in each and every one.

The purest, happiest of my memories are all from before I turned 5. And those were few because I'm sure I didn't remember much from them in the first place.

Why is it like this?

Was I sad because I was happy?

I knew I was in pain...but why?

I have the details, but I didn't have the source—the why's. I felt like I was watching a movie of my own life that had too many plot holes to make up anything about the story.

I...pretended. I was fake.

But why?

I turned around in the covers, twisting and turning to milk any sort of energy to soothe my exhausted bones. When that didn't work, I peeled myself from the empty bed. I grumbled, annoyed that Matteo had gone off to do his Alpha-y duties. I guess he's been stalling them, trying to spend more time with me. My feet padded across the wooden floor, opening the bathroom door connected to Matteo's room. Looking in the mirror, I gaped, my eyes widening when I saw my hair.

It was a ratted mess.

I stared coolly at myself into the mirror, knowing that I'm not going be liking this. But I had to. Sighing, I grabbed the brush settled beside the sink and started to get to work.

* * *

6:47 a.m.

I knew that I said I wouldn't like brushing my hair, but god, my scalp was throbbing, and it was hurting like a bitch.

I walked into the living room, still in my pajamas (I didn't care about changing) while noticing Ian and Marie arguing about something.

"I'm not playing that stupid game!"

"Oh, come on! Matt's gone, I have no one to play with, and Liam's played this game so much that he got sick of it!"

"Why do you think I'm not like Liam then? I said no, and that's final."

"Hey, how about I play?" I said butting in, looking at them bemusedly. Ian was trying to push the game controller in Marie's hands, while she was adamantly refusing him. I leaned over them, looking at the case of the game Ian was trying to play; Magical Boy Shooter IV. "Oh?" I said, both of their heads turning towards me. "This looks familiar when have I played it before?" they both startled. I paused, trying to remember before my face lit up.