Silver Scars

Nightmares.

You would think that they stay in the night. In the dark. While you are asleep. But they don't. They come alive. They can haunt you at any moment. Especially when you have visual reminders, like me. These damn scars.

Every night it's like a routine. Nightmare. Wake up sweating. Shower. Lie awake trying to remember a day without this...this slow death called life.

Then after a few hours of that, I get up. I get dressed. I do my hair. I do my makeup. And I plaster this smile. This fake, ridiculous smile to go bring my Alpha his coffee.

Every morning, I want to spit it in. I used to. But I was caught once and spent a month in my personal, private, silver cell in the basement. I've been there so much you could call it my home away from home.

Anyways. I deliever the coffee. I ask him how he slept, avoid asking about how Brittany or Cherri or whatever was last night, even though I love to ask. Give him a kiss, that he always wipes off and then leave.

Then I begin the various Luna duties I need to complete that day.

As a Luna, I usually look after affairs of the community. Hospital issues, village issues, children and family things, organize events. Don't know how this packed survived without me for 12 years. For the past 4 years, I've cleaned up this place.

Well, 3 years.

I've been here for 4 but can't say I was exactly Luna material the first year.

But as Xavier would like to say, I've now become a perfect submissive Luna.

Fuck. Makes me gag that word-submissive.