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Chapter 11
October 17th, 1991
I was in the bath last night and thought about drowning myself, then I realized that my body would never let that happen so grabbed my razor from the shower and broke it to get at one of the blades. I sat in the bath and repeatedly pressed it against my skin, but I was too scared of death to go through with it. I hid the broken razor under the cabinet where the little slot at the top leaves just enough room to hold it. He'd never see it. The only reason I found the slot was because I was looking hard enough. It is there with the blade, and I know I should not keep it, but it is nice to know that I have a way out.
It has gotten worse. I never want to go outside anymore, and when I try to get dressed and look nice, everything I put on makes me upset because I hate everything I own. I
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In the morning, Alpha Grant is gone, so I leave my bedroom and head to the kitchen for breakfast. Gail and Theresa are there, and I sit with them at the small table. Gail had already whipped something up, and she sets the plate in front of me only two seconds after I take a seat. "What is Alpha Grant's first name?" I ask and they both give me odd looks."You don't know?" Theresa asks."He hasn't told me.""It's James, after his father," Gail says.I nod. How perfect. "How long have you two been at the pack house?""I've been for five years, and Theresa has been here forever."Theresa smiles. "I've been since James was a young one."
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I must look like something straight out of a nightmare, because when I attempt to open the door, I realize it is locked, and suddenly Gail peeks through the drawn curtains and shrieks. The curtains slip closed and I knock again. "Gail! It's me! Rae?" I call to her, "I'm fine, just let me in."She comes through the sliver in the curtains again, shouting through the glass of the window. "Rae? Dear Goddess! What on earth happened—""Will you please open the door?" I interrupt and wait the few seconds until the lock clicks and Gail swings the door open, her eyes wider than I've ever seen them—and I've held a knife to my neck. "I should explain," I say, attempting to get inside, but she blocks me."Is that your blood?""No," I
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"I'm going to hate myself for this," he murmurs, his hands dragging down my arms. "I don't deserve you, not after what I've done."His hands come to my face, brushing back my hair and caressing my cheeks, one drops and the other hand runs down to my jaw. I grab his stray hand and hold it in between my own, covering it and bringing it to the center of my chest. "I'll forgive you, I just need time. I need to see that you're willing to open up to me. No more trying to push me away. No more trying to hurt me."I feel different. I have never felt like this before. There is an anxious feeling growing inside of me, making my chest hurt. Looking at James now, looking at some unknown version of him I didn't know existed, I feel anxious—nervous in ways that I can't quite understand. He's hurt me, I know that. People hurt others. I've hurt p
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My bedroom is cold and empty feeling though my things clutter the space obnoxiously. I set my back down at the door and walk in as if this is someone else bedroom and I am an intruder.My mother isn't home, actually, she doesn't know that I am either. I had never called and told her I was leaving as I only found out last night. She'll be disappointed, I think. Sad for me. Her daughter was mated to an Alpha, was taken to his pack, then was sent home for her own good. It makes me sad just thinking about it.Having no desire to unpack, I leave my bag set against the wall and walk to the window, gazing out at the forgotten view of the forest, the view I used to stare out at while I cried when I was younger. I don't want to be here. Not anymore. This has become a sad place now, one where my half-filled soul will rot and wither away until I d
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November 30th, 1991I cannot leave my bedroom. I cannot face him. I have lost my baby. My baby has slipped between my fingers, leaving me forever, never to come back. I feel empty. James feels empty. He has tried speaking with me, but I have nothing to say. There is nothing I want to say anymore. The doctor says that many women have miscarriages and it should not stop me from trying again, but there is a cloud of discouragement over my head. It floats there, never to go away. I want my baby. Goddess, please. I need my baby.December 1st, 1991I feel sad today. I feel sad every day. I want my baby back. Please, please, Goddess give me my child.December 5th, 1991
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I immediately close the door behind me and turn to him with wide eyes. His scent is muffled and I can't tell if I am imagining him or not. "W-What are you doing here?"James nears me and my heart begins to race. The sight of him makes me feel secure, a warm feeling spreading throughout my shaking body. The darkness of my bedroom shadows his face, making him a figure in the night, something my eyes could be playing tricks with. Once close enough, the moonlight from my window lightens up his face and my throat grows dry. He reaches out to me, takes my hand in his, showing me that he is indeed real. "I'm here to finalize things, Rae," he says, his voice less smooth than it has been in the past.I struggle to speak, bringing me back to when I first met him. "You're going—you're going to reject me now?"
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I slept better last night after our conversation, after seeing him and feeling him again. It confirmed and renewed feelings I've held for him, feelings I don't know should exist, ones that may be wrong but inevitable. All I know is that when I saw him in my bedroom, a part of me felt whole.He's not the same as he was when we first met, I can see that now. He talked to me, opened up to me, came clean. It gives me even more hope than I had before, and that makes me nervous. In my mind, our story had ended when James told me he was here to reject me, but now so much has changed because of one conversation. One conversation and now I know that he wants me too. That's what James meant when he said he was bringing me home, right? He wants me there. He wants to try and fix things between us.I have to reroute my mind again. It was heading tow
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It has been almost a week since I've seen James and I can't help but worry. What if he's never coming back for me? What if it was all a lie? I can't die here alone. I just can't. These last few days I've put all my eggs in one basket. Tonight I sit in bed, waiting like the past few nights. My tiredness has been scared off by excitement and anxiety and a thumping heart.After another hour, I can't help but lay down. As much as I fight myself, my eyes can't help but close—I'll open them abruptly once I feel myself falling asleep—but soon I'm oblivious to everything around me. I am submerged in a dreamland.It feels like only a few minutes later when there's a gentle hand on my arm. At first, I think that I'm dreaming something incredibly realistic, but when my eyes open and the familiar shadowed corners of my bedroom appear, I
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