A Story That Never Should Have Been Told

A Story That Never Should Have Been Told

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Warning: The author is not responsible for tears, or any other emotional response. Death is not an uncommon thing, in this story. So close, yet so far. If it had been her right arm she may have survived, but it was her left. Now dangling over the edge, she sucked in one final breath, before her muscles gave out and she slipped. Slipped into oblivion, the everlasting darkness. Her last words echoing in my ears forever "tell them, tell them the truth,". The real story, I couldn't save her. At last, I was helpless, doomed to watch my best friend die before my very eyes. Restrained by metals bonds, unable to move as best friend fell, and my hope with her. She had always been better than me, a better person, a better writer, a better friend. I call out her name twice, with no answer. Tears flow from my cheeks, she's gone. Gone forever, I couldn't save her. I couldn't save her.
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nevertoolate
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Everything was gone. I sobbed, my clothes ripped and I was bleeding, but it didn't matter. I had to get to her, to them. Had to find- Struggling to stand, I grasped my side, biting back the scream that wanted to escape. I looked down at my hands and red coated them, blurring together until I couldn't see anything anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my panicked breathing to slow, until I felt in control of myself again. It had been so long, I thought as I turned my peeling and dry face to the sun, my fingers shaking as I struggled to make sense of them. For so long, I'd been a wolf, cursed. All that I was, or could've been had been reduced to nothing but an animal driven by instinct, bloodlust, thousands of lives met their ends at the edges of my razor sharp claws. I had no idea where I was, how much time had passed. My fingers touched something hard in the sand, and a jolt of information went through me as Queen Azalea's sword, gleamed as I pulled it free. My heart started to pound as sun glinted off of the blade, reflecting back at me. I nearly dropped the metal when I saw myself. I took a second look and saw white hair, caked with dirt, and yellow eyes, blue veins sparking in their depths. All at once, I remembered who I was. I remembered why I was here, how much time had passed. I am Azalea Marie Albescu, The Queen Alpha. A false queen sits on my throne, controls what's mine. I would have to make my way back to my pack, my family, and my home, if still there. I would rise again, as I had before, and reclaim what belongs to me. DISCLAIMER: AS WITH MANY OF MY STORIES, I DO IMPLICATE SITUATIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/ABUSE. Not in any way do I intend to glamorize this behavior, I write about these delicate and painful situations because I myself relate to them and will always fight for survivors, including myself. Thank you for your understanding and if you are in any way uncomfortable reading these stories, I encourage you to look elsewhere.

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