In a softly lit room, I sat on a chair, my legs dangling off it, my mother standing behind me, gently combing through my long hair.
The rhythmic sound of the brush gliding through strands fill the silence.
"Sweetheart," my mother began, her voice calm yet tinged with sadness, "I need to tell you something important. Your future is going to be incredible but it's not going to be easy."
I looked at my reflection, curious but trusting. " What do you mean?"
My mother paused, gathering her thoughts. "You'll face challenges, times where you feel alone. And I'm afraid I won't always be there to help you through it."
My brows furrowed, the weight of my mother's words sinking in. " But... I don't want you to go."
"I know, my love," my mother replied, her voice thick with emotions. "And I'm so sorry for that. But you're stronger than you think. You'll always find a way to rise above it all."
I nodded slowly. " I'll be strong, mummy. "
"You are already," my mother whispered. Resuming the gentle combing. "And remember I'll always be with you. No matter what."
***
I faded in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay to keep myself alive.
I'd wake to the sensation of being moved, touched, but it felt distant, like I was observing from outside myself. The boundaries of my own body blurred, leaving me uncertain of what was real and what was a phantom experience.
I dreamt of my mother the whole time I kept fading out. I dreamt of her sweet words and soft actions. But the dream—the memory—that has stuck to me was the one she was combing my hair.
Her sadness that day was a premonition, a heavy weight in her eyes. She spoke of her absence, a veiled truth that pierced my young heart.
A part of me, even then, understood. She knew, and she was preparing me for her inevitable departure.
I slowly came back to myself, slowly slipping back into consciousness. This time I wasn't going to lose it.
I blinked my eyes slowly, feeling how heavy my eyelids were.
It took time before I could take in my surroundings.
I blinked several times to make sure my eyes were still working correctly.
Where was I?
I was looking at a wall, a dark plain stone well. I managed to turn my head and look around, and my heart stilled for a moment.
What the hell?!
I was surrounded by three dark walls, and in front of me were bars.
I was in a cell!!
I looked down to where I was lying and it was a thin bed—it was so thin, it felt like I was sleeping on the ground.
What was going on? Where was I? Why was I in a cell?
I tried to sit up and a blasting pain in my shoulder made me fall back. I groaned, the sound too loud for this too quiet place.
I peeled off my shirt—which was hard because of all the dried blood on it—and checked my shoulder.
It was already wrapped in a bandage. Thank the goddess. If it was left on its own I might have risked an infection.
I stood up on shaky legs, ignoring my pounding head and walked to the bars.
"Hey!" I shouted, my voice hoarse as I shook the bars with what little strength I have.
My mouth felt too dry, my tongue too heavy but I ignored it and kept shouting.
"Hey! Where am I?! Who's out there?!" I kept going on and on, feeling my strength fading.
Then finally, a voice came. "Shut the fuck up!" The voice came from what I assumed was the entrance to this place, so I'm guessing it's the guards.
I didn't shut the fuck up and kept shouting until finally I heard the door open.
I heard heavy, angry footsteps walk down my way. Then the owner of them stopped in front of my cell.
He was young, probably mid twenties, with dark hair, and even darker eyes. He stared at me harshly, but I refused to be intimidated and stared right back.
"I won't tell you to shut that mouth of yours again, I would shut it for you," the guard said, his voice harsh.
"Where am I?" I asked, ignoring what he just said, but the fool was already walking away.
"Hey!" I called but he kept walking.
I walked back to my bed, and drew my legs up my knees, feeling the cold of this place.
Why was I in a cell? Rowan would never lock me up. And this place looked too ancient to be the pack house.
Unless…. No, it can't be.
My mind was a blank canvas, a void where memories should have been. I desperately searched for any trace of what happened after I blacked out, but the darkness remained, impenetrable and unforgiving.
All I remembered was the battle, the fight with Daruis, and Lilith…. Oh, Lilith.
I wasn't ready for the wave of emotions that hit me, for it to seize my body, and cloud my head.
Lilith… My sweet Lilith. Gone. She can't be gone, she can't be.
The sob that burst out of me was too loud but I didn't care. I cried—no, I wailed—for the loss of my friend.
I wasn't able to save her. I failed her. I failed myself. Why was I still alive? I should have died with her.
Rowan and Joseph will never forgive me for letting her die, so perhaps it was for the best that I was no longer in their pack. I would never be able to face them.
I cried until I heard the door open again, but I didn't pay it any mind and just tucked my face between my knees and cried.
The footsteps continued until they stopped in front of my cell, but I still didn't raise my head.
The person can go fuck himself.
The person didn't say anything but I was sure he was still there. I still didn't raise my head. They'll get tired and leave me to cry in peace.
"I have to say, it's almost comical watching you like this."
My whole body pauses at that voice, the entire hair on my body raising.
I raised my head slowly, the rage burning so fiercely that all I saw was red.
I met the eyes of the monster, my jailor, and Lilith's killer, and I have never wanted to kill anybody more than I wanted to kill this beast.
"You," I growled, not recognizing my own voice.
Daruis smiled, a cruel, terrifying thing. "Me."