"I have been a werewolf for a while now, and watching your friends shrivel up and die while you stay perfectly the same is rather disturbing.
It gives you the feeling that you are not even real, not even a human. Time and time again I check the obituary to see that one of my parent's friends is dead, living to be even eighty years old.
I always think to myself, I know them. I used to talk with them. My parents were the worst. They made me cry the most. You know why, Berenice?"
"Because you loved them the most?" I said.
"Because they were my only links to reality. Back ten years ago, I could point at a regular human and say 'You are my mom. You are my dad.'
However, I can't do that anymore. Nobody knows me. I am invisible, yet visible to the human eye. I have no connection with them. All I have is my pack, and my mate," he glances at me, smiling weakly.
"I already have no connections to reality," I stare at the floor, facing the undeniable truth.
