Tiny (gxgxg) [ON PAUSE; REWRITING]

I'm a Werewolf, Baby - The Tragically Hip

MARA

The last time I spoke to Ellie and Sadie was three days ago. My last conversation with them was spent on my knees crying and begging for them to stay. They ignored me.

Since then, I haven't been able to get out of bed except to use the bathroom in emergencies. I spend all my time in bed sleeping or trying to get rid of the constant stomach ache plaguing me. The last time I ate was probably mid-evening yesterday, and that was only a small bag of Fritos, which I promptly threw up, courtesy of my stomach ache. My parents haven't spoken to me for the past few days since they've learned I'm gay. At least Olivia comes to check in on me, even though I know she was sent by my parents to make sure I'm not dead.

Is it wrong if I say I wish I were? Since my mates had left, there was an empty feeling in me. The best way I could describe it is as though each of my organs has been plucked out, blended up, and then forced back into the place it was before. How I felt electricity when I touched them has been replaced with a painful memory of them.

I want to be mad at them. I want to be able to scream and cry at them. I want to hurt them the way they hurt me.

But I can't. I can't bring myself to think about hurting them, even though they've crushed me this way.

I can't help but wonder if they're also rotting in their beds, crying all day and all night, wishing to be back in my arms. They're probably not, though. The twins are likely training, schooling, or whatever they did in their free time before ending up in the pound.

The door creaked open, revealing Olivia. She was holding a tray with a bowl and glass on it.

"May I come in, princess?"

She asked hesitantly, looking around my dirty room as though something sickly was in it. Perhaps there was, I don't know.

"Just leave it. I'm not going to eat."

I tell her, my voice soft and hoarse from little use. My nose is stuffy and my eyes are puffy from crying. A raging headache pounded in my head, and I had run out of tissues yesterday and had begun using my sleeve, which was now a disgusting mess.

"Maybe you should eat something, Mara," This was the first time I had ever heard Olivia using my first name, "It might make you feel better."

Something in her voice made me feel hopeful; as though I were able to eat again. But that feeling quickly vanished, along with my appetite. I waved dismissively.

"I'll eat some other time," I hesitated before speaking again, "Thank you, Olivia."

She nodded and retreated, closing the door softly behind her, leaving me alone in the darkness once more.

I looked around my room for the first time in days and saw what Olivia had seen. Used tissues strewn around the floor, clothes in piles on the ground, trash from what little I've eaten all over. I looked at my clothes. They were covered in a mixture of tears and snot, causing me to recoil at my state. There was something sickly in this room, and it was eating away at me.

I pushed the blankets off me and sat up, feeling exhausted from just doing that. I wanted to lay back down, but I knew it was the sickness telling me to do that. I stood up, my legs shaking under me. I felt weak and like every step was like stepping on hot coals, but I made my way over to my light switch. Blinded momentarily, I covered my eyes with my hand. After a few moments, I pulled my hand down and blinked a couple of times, taking in my surroundings. My room was disgusting, and I needed to fix it. The problem is, I can't fix it if I can hardly stand.

I looked at myself in the mirror and recoiled slightly, not recognizing myself at first. My face was gaunt, but my eyes were puffy and red. My nose was swollen and cracked, and my lips were chapped and irritated. The bags under my eyes were dark but had an undertone of red. I touched my face in disbelief, poking and prodding at myself as though I were a zoo animal. I run my fingers through my hair, snagging numerous knots. My hair was greasy and knotted, and my natural roots were much more obvious as of late. I grabbed my hairbrush from my nightstand and slowly started working out the knots, starting from the bottom.

After what felt like ages, my hair was knot-free, but it was still greasy and needed to be bleached. At least this was one step closer to looking, and hopefully feeling, normal. Running my tongue over my teeth, I realized the next thing I should do is brush my teeth. I took a deep breath, preparing myself mentally and physically before walking out of my room, shutting my door quickly behind me.

Luckily, no one spotted me as I made my way to the bathroom, locking the door behind me and sighing in relief. I grabbed my toothbrush and started brushing my teeth, my mouth no longer feeling like death, and instead tasting like mint.

I decided to shower while I was in the bathroom, and I decided to take a long one. Exfoliating, shaving, everything. Those are the best kinds of showers and I needed one after what I had just gone through.

No one around me had gone through what I had, not even some of the older pack members. I was truly alone in this experience, and I don't think anyone could understand what I am and was going through. 

The hot water coursed down my body, the steam rising and filling the bathroom. I sighed in relief, my throat closing up and my eyes pricking with tears. This wasn't the same cry as before; this one was a mourning of everything that could have happened and could have been. This cry was for myself and my family. This cry was for my future family, my future in-laws, my future everything. This was a liberating cry.

Once I had cried for a good amount of time, I finished my shower and wrapped a thick towel around myself. I also washed my face, my skin having been on the verge of breaking out. With my luck, I will still break out in pimples, but hopefully, it will be manageable. 

I stared at my reflection, studying myself deeply. I looked better than I had, but I was still dehydrated and starving, and my face was still swollen.

I left the bathroom and changed into warm clothes, relishing the feeling of soft, clean clothes. My stomach growled loudly for a few moments, and I took notice of how hungry I truly was. Not surprisingly, my body was angry at me for not feeding it for multiple days and crying out all of its water.

 As I was leaving my room, Olivia was walking toward the bathroom. She paused, surprised. Then, she gave me a soft smile and continued on her way. This made me smile; suddenly proud of myself. I continued walking, a newfound sense of pride in my heart, toward the kitchen. My stomach continued to grumble in front of the other packmates, much to my dismay. I scanned the pantry and found beef jerky, causing me to groan in relief; beef jerky was my savior at that moment. Grabbing the box, I ripped open a pack like a wild animal, tearing into the jerky as though I were feral. I probably drooled like a Saint Bernard over those sticks of jerky, but I didn't notice nor care.

After days of not taking care of myself, I had finally broken the cycle. I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, even though the wound of my soulmates leaving was still very fresh and raw. 

Then I remembered I had missed about three days of school.