Right from the start, my mother, Maddie, made it evident that she had no desire to be a part of my life, going as far as to avoid making eye contact or cradling me in her arms. This created an impenetrable divide between us, leaving me with an overwhelming sense of isolation and abandonment.
The reason behind my mother's disdain for me was simple—she blamed me for my father's abandonment. It was not my fault that I inherited his features and reminded her of him, yet she held it against me as if I had any control over my appearance. Instead of showering me with love and care, she arranged for two other women, Stacy and Erica, to take care of my every need. These women became my surrogate mothers, providing the love and affection that I so desperately craved.
As I got older, I started to realize more and more that my mother's love was missing from my life. While my friends enjoyed the love and support of their mothers, I had to figure things out on my own. The two women who took care of me tried their best to fill the gap, but their love could never compare to the special connection between a mother and child. They provided me with the basics like food, clothes, and care, but they couldn't give me the emotional depth that only a mother could offer.
From a young age, I have carried the heavy burden of my mother's anger and fury. Every encounter with her feels like stepping into a brewing storm, where her rage consumes me with physical and verbal abuse. The scars and bruises she leaves behind serve as a constant reminder of her torment, while her piercing screams echo in my mind. I feel trapped in an endless cycle of pain and suffering, yearning for a life filled with love and compassion.
However, it appeared that this longing was always out of reach. When I reached the age of ten, a significant event unfolded in my mother's life that would determine the course of our family's fate. She encountered a mysterious witch who predicted an extraordinary future for her daughters.
Agatha, the Witch, foretells to Maddie, “One of your daughters shall rise as a formidable warrior, bestowed with the extraordinary abilities of Luna. Meanwhile, the other shall bring forth unfortunate events and cast a looming darkness upon your pack.” “Can you tell me which daughter we need to watch because I already have a feeling which daughter is the Luna?” Mom asks the witch. Agatha laughs before she walks away from Maddie, “Better choose correctly or your pack with suffer the consequences.” I need to do something or get rid of Sable before she ruins our pack, but what? My mother immediately begins planning and assuming that I am the unfortunate one, destined to bring nothing but bad luck to our family.
Meanwhile, my sister Nichole is the center of attention and affection from our mother. She is being trained and prepared meticulously to become the next Luna warrior, while I yearn for a sense of belonging and can't help but feel envious of her privileged position. Unfortunately, I have become my mother's servant, responsible for household chores and catering to my sister's every need. Each night, I go to bed hungry and bruised, enduring physical abuse from both my mother and sister. This life is a constant battle, and I desperately crave a change.
However, not long after, I experienced a vivid dream in which the ethereal moon goddess materialized before me. Her voice resonated with a divine authority as she addressed me by name, Sable, you are the sole remaining member of the royal bloodline, destined to become the most formidable warrior and Luna. In due course, I shall guide you back to your rightful place within your true father's pack. But before that, it is imperative that you fortify your inner strength and hone your skills.
As I wake up from my sleep, I feel disoriented and confused by the dream. To my surprise, I realize that I have woken up earlier than my alarm clock. In a hurry, I quickly get out of bed and head to the shower. Without wasting any time, I rush down the stairs and prepare a cup of hot coffee and a delicious breakfast. The fear of disappointing my mother and Nichole if the meal isn't ready on time pushes me to work efficiently. Just as I finish setting the table, they enter the room, and I immediately excuse myself, knowing that I can't be in their presence unless they call me.
I quickly retreat to my room, ready to prepare for another day of school. With a sense of urgency, I gather my clothes and carefully dress myself, ensuring that I appear presentable and ready to face the challenges ahead. As I approach the front door, I notice my worn-out coat and shoes, a reminder of the difficulties I encounter. Undeterred, I sit down and put them on, knowing that these simple possessions are all I possess.
Despite the pain and heaviness in my chest, I persevere through the day, determined to finish middle school on a somewhat positive note. The broken ribs constantly remind me of the unpredictable nature of my home life, but I refuse to let it consume me completely. While sitting in each class, my mind drifts away, unable to fully engage with the material being taught. The teachers' words become a blur, and I find myself lost in a whirlpool of thoughts and worries.
After the final bell rings, a mix of emotions floods through me. On one hand, I feel relieved to be free from the school walls, but on the other hand, I feel a sense of dread knowing what awaits me at home. The chaotic environment that has become all too familiar to me. The constant yelling, violence, and tension that hangs in the air like a heavy fog.
It's a place where I'm always on edge, never knowing what will trigger another explosive outburst. As summer begins, I'm painfully aware that it will pass by quickly, just like every other summer before it. While my classmates excitedly plan vacations and adventures, I know that my summer will be spent confined to my home, taking care of my mother and Nichole, as they both have their own mysterious activities that occupy their time.
Every morning, I wake up early, even before the sun rises, to make sure everything is in order.
Cleaning the house has become a daily routine for me, along with cooking all the meals and being my sisters' servant. I hope that by creating a clean and organized environment, I can bring a sense of peace to our lives. However, deep down, I know that no amount of cleaning can erase the emotional and the physical scars that I will carry for the rest of my life.
As time passes, I find solace in the few moments I can steal for myself. I escape into books, immersing myself in stories and characters that transport me to a different world. It is within the pages of these books that I find a glimmer of hope.
Tomorrow is a significant day for me as it marks my sixteenth birthday. I can't shake this strange feeling that something important is about to happen. The uncertainty of whether it will be good or bad only adds to my anxiety. Additionally, tomorrow is also my first day of high school, signaling that I have four more years to endure before starting a new chapter in my life.
As I awaken on the modest mattress resting on the floor of my room, I am greeted by the familiar sight of the thin blanket that has provided me comfort for as long as I can recall. Today is my birthday, and although I wish myself a heartfelt Happy Birthday, I am aware that no one else will extend their well-wishes, for it appears that nobody truly cares. Determined to start the day on a positive note, I swiftly rise from the mattress and make my way to the compact bathroom that has been allocated to me. With a sense of urgency, I take a quick shower, ensuring that I am refreshed before stepping out and promptly drying myself off. Once dressed, I head to the kitchen, where I prepare breakfast for my mother and Nichole, hoping that by doing so, I can avoid any potential confrontation or physical harm this morning.As I enter the kitchen, the familiar scent of stale coffee and unwashed dishes fills the air. The worn-out linoleum floor creaks beneath my feet as I navigate through the clu
In that exact moment, a surge of intense and agonizing sensation courses through the entirety of my being, originating from multiple angles, compelling me to release a piercing scream as the torment engulfs me. It feels as though countless fiery needles are piercing my skin, searing through my veins, and tearing at my muscles. The pain is unbearable, consuming every inch of my existence, leaving no respite. As the agony escalates, the resounding noise of my bones fracturing fills my senses, resembling the delicate snap of twigs succumbing to immense strain. This auditory symphony of devastation reverberates within my ears, amplifying the intensity of the torment. Astonishingly, my shattered bones swiftly knit themselves back together, defying the laws of nature. It is as if they are trapped in an eternal loop of annihilation and rebirth, perpetually subjected to excruciating repetition, with each occurrence surpassing the previous one in terms of sheer anguish. My body is seized by u
As I regain consciousness, I am greeted by a throbbing headache and excruciating pain coursing through my entire body. A feeble whimper escapes my lips as I attempt to sit up, only to realize that I have been abandoned in the heart of the living room. The absence of a comforting blanket or a soft pillow serves as a stark reminder of the heartlessness that engulfed the room after my mother mercilessly assaulted me, showing no concern for the extent of the harm she inflicted.I gingerly touch the tender bruises that mar my skin, each one a testament to the cruelty that unfolded in this room. The pain intensifies with every movement, a constant reminder of the physical and emotional wounds inflicted upon me. Tears well up in my eyes, a mixture of pain, anger, and betrayal. In this moment of vulnerability, I find strength within myself. I refuse to let this act of violence define me, to let it extinguish the flickering flame of hope that still burns within. With every ounce of determinati
I find myself standing at the entrance of Sweet Adventures, a quaint little boutique that seems to hold a world of possibilities within its walls. The vibrant colors and delicate fabrics of the dresses on display catch my eye, but a wave of uncertainty washes over me. I have never been one to embrace fashion or venture outside my comfort zone when it comes to clothing choices.Adele, my confident and fashion-forward friend, senses my hesitation and flashes me an encouraging smile. Her eyes sparkle with excitement as she insists that I give this place a chance. With a gentle yet firm grip on my arm, she leads me through the threshold, determined to show me the wonders that await inside.As we make our way deeper into the store, I am enveloped by a sea of dresses, each one more stunning than the last. The racks are filled with an assortment of styles, from elegant evening gowns to flirty sundresses, catering to every taste and occasion. The air is filled with the scent of new fabrics an
Suddenly, as if on cue, the flames that had been dancing beside me vanished into thin air, leaving me surrounded by eerie darkness before Torin could utter a single word, or before I could even move a muscle. ‘MATE!’ Zena's voice reverberates through my head, filled with a mix of surprise and excitement. “Yes, but he is with my sister, so how is this going to work?’ I ask Zena. My heart pounds with fear, sending adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I leap in surprise. The suddenness of the situation triggers a collective response from everyone around me, with some yelling, others screaming, and a few crying out in shock. “Once again, Sable ruins everything,” a guy from the crowd says, making everyone laugh. “Can we please relight the fire?” a girl asks as I turn away from the voices. I feel a heavy burden from the weight of his words and the sound of their laughter, causing me to become tense and my eyes to well up with tears. The overwhelming sense of humiliation washes o
As he gradually approaches me, he introduces himself, “I go by the name of Jericho,” he utters with confidence.“Hey there, kiddo, mind telling me your name?” Jericho inquires with a friendly smile, his voice filled with curiosity.“I'm definitely not a little kid,” I confidently inform him. “No way you're older than twelve,” Jericho teases, a playful smirk adorning his features.“You know what? I'm actually sixteen, thank you very much,” I retort to Jericho with a hint of sass in my voice.“Absolutely not, there's no chance,” Jericho chuckles. “By the way, what's your name, sweet pea?” I casually drop my name, saying, “You can call me Sable.”“Hey Sable, it's great to finally meet you! I'm curious, what brings you all the way out here?” Jericho inquires, standing right in front of me.“I quickly dashed away from the New Year's Party where my pack was gathered,” I confessed to Jericho, averting my gaze.“Wait, you're part of the Night Howlers pack? I don't remember ever seeing you w
As the sun gently peeks through my curtains, I wake up with a grin, reminiscing about the thrilling encounter I had with a handsome gentleman last night. The memory fills me with a delightful anticipation, causing me to let out a joyful squeal as I jump out of bed. In a rush, I quickly hop into the shower, relishing the refreshing water cascading over my body, before swiftly getting dressed and preparing myself for another day at school. With a skip in my step, I make my way downstairs, eager to start the day by brewing a steaming cup of coffee and whipping up a delicious breakfast for my mom and sister, Nichole. As I head out the door, I silently hope that today will be a day free from the torment of bullies, allowing me to focus on the adventures that await me at school.As I approach the school's entrance, my heart races with anticipation for the day ahead. But before I can even step foot inside, a forceful push sends me crashing to the ground, my knees scraping against the unforg
Heading to the gym, I let out a sigh of frustration because I know I have to endure PE with my sister Nichole and her rowdy group of friends. It's always a nightmare because they never fail to make snide remarks or start chaos, and I always end up getting hurt in the process. Grumbling, I push open the heavy doors of the gym and make my way to the locker room. As I enter, the rest of the girls follow suit, and we all begin changing into our gym clothes. Suddenly, all the lockers start opening and slamming shut repeatedly, causing everyone to scream in surprise and rush out of the locker room in a panic, myself included. Once we're in the gym, I can feel the judgmental stares from the other girls, their sneers clear on their faces. “Why do you always have to be the one causing problems?” Jazmine asks me, her friends snickering in the background.I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart as I face the judgmental stares of Jazmine and her clique. It's not the first time the