**Dahlia's Recovery Experience**
After waking up from my hellish nightmare. I was slowly able to regain my strength, and voice. Being stuck in a bed for 4 weeks really took a toll on my body. Given its only been a week since I woke up, I once again try to avoid any contacts with mirrors. That childhood trauma has crept back into my mind. Laying in a hospital bed took a quite a toll. Most of my ribs bones, and my collar bones stick out and they give me that all too familiar sickly look. I suppose it's to be expected when your only nourishment are IV fluids, which aren't your typical balanced meals. Lockhart has assured me I will be up to proper weight in no time, and to have patience. I have to go to Physical Therapy three times a week for the next 6 weeks. The PT nurse is a real hard ass. Her name is Helga and a huge beast of a lady, who could easily break me in two these days, maybe on a healthy day too. Despite her intimidating appearance she is actually quite nice. After I was discharged, we were moved to the main pack house. It's a huge Victorian mansion. Looking at the Island, you'd never know it was there, as it was perfectly encircled by the ancient walls of trees. The pack house is starting to feel like home, though I do miss our gravel driveway, and the 2 story farm house. We have the entire right wing. My parents have a room acrossed the hall from me. It's like they gave me a penthouse. I have my own kitchen, laundry room, a giant bath tub with jets. They even went as far as making my room up similar to the one I had at our house in Dravenwood. I know my dad had something to do with it, as the room was furnished when we arrived. I have my own desk. Can you believe it, that vintage chair I always got yelled at for siting in, is in my room by the small library with a giant Bay window. Perfect for reading. I frequently visit the bath tub. The warm water and the massage from the jets, really quell the aches and pain of my unfamiliar frail body. I haven't seen many pack members yet. I met all of the hospital staff, they were all really nice, but they go over board with treating me like I'm Queen Elizabeth. Robot 1 and 2 stand guard outside my door. They're all really annoying, but I'm starting to understand and accept this is our world. Our wing has a separate main kitchen and my mother frequently cooks and chases off the kitchen staff. I like her cooking better anyways. Over this past week I've grown anxious. My birthday is in 10 days and the impending shift weighs heavy on my mind. Lockhart reassured me, that I will be healthy enough to survive the transformation. He doesn't know what exactly will transpire. He just knows there hasn't been a wolf like me since our founder. After everything I've been through, you can't blame me for being skeptical. I want to go outside and be in the forest by the shore. I've felt too locked up like an inmate instead of the leader of our pack. I understand my parents want me to be at full strength before I meet the rest of the pack. They don't want them to see me in this condition, they want them to see a strong leader, so that way it encourages the pack with confidence. My dad has kept a close eye on my progress and is confident, we can slowly urge our way into some defensive training. He thinks it will be good for my recovery. Of course he can say that with confidence, he was a former Beta, who fought in a war. I am almost a 18 year old girl, now werewolf, recovering from the ocean trying to swallow me whole, whose trying to get her body working again. Even though, I'm not looking forward to it, I know my dad has a good read on most things, so I'll join him on his little training day exercise. He can't blame me if I bring a raging attitude. I thought mom would be on my side this time, but nope, she sided with dad. "Dahlia remember to get your rest, tomorrow we start training" my dad calls as he walks passed my room. "Last time you had me do something, I nearly drowned" I muttered under my breath as I rolled my eyes. "Young lady, I'm a werewolf, I can hear you" I hear my dad snap back. "Sorry dad, goodnight see you in the morning" I call back. I walk over to my newly acquired walk in closet, with the same strange unfamiliar clothing I've became accustomed too, and grab an over size band T-shirt, I throw it on and jump into bed. My bed doesn't know what hit it when I break out my signature move, as I roll like a an alligator and assume the perfect blanket burrito. Warm and cozy but most importantly safe, I drift off to sleep.