Was it already that ti of the year? I knew that there was always the annual celebration of the peace pact between the two bordering communities and my pack, but I hadn’t known for what or who were involved. It was never held in the pack, but in either of the communities.
My parents, and siblings when they had co of age in the last two years, had usually gone to these annual celebrations, leaving alone in the house during the period. They stayed for two to three days before they co back, excited and happy. And although it got lonely sotis, you know staying at ho alone, I had still fancied it because then I was free from bullying, from academic activities-since school was always put on hold then, and from my siblings’ cruel taunts.
Once I had asked my mother about why I wasn’t able to go. Why I was always left behind with the underaged in the pack, and a few invalids. Was I not worthy to see the communities at least? She hadn’t given an answer. She had ended up stuttering after a long silence, before asking to go away and get her sothing from her room.
But I had already knew the answer. It was obvious, but I had gone ahead to make her uncomfortable. I felt bad after that, and never queried her about the matter. The answer though had been the usual. I had no wolf gene. My pack was ashad of . And since I couldn’t fight either if the peace pact was to turn to a battle ceremony, why bring along? I wa so useless in my pack that I hadn’t been enrolled into the training program like my siblings. I didn’t bla them though. As I ntioned earlier, no wolf, no usefulness.
So, this year’s ceremony would be held in the pack? I would see Adam and his brothers? I would relive the events of that night again? Do I have to go?
Too engrossed in my thoughts, I didn’t notice that my hands were beginning to shake rapidly and that I was beginning to hyperventilate, I don’t notice that my breathing has gone raggard and that I was struggling to breath, because all I could think of was that night, the night when I had been killed. Yes, killed. I knew that I died that night. The goddess had just being rciful to send back.
I wasn’t aware when I sat alone on the near floor of my dimly lit room, the weight of the mories pressing heavily upon . It had been months since that fateful night, but the scars, both physical and emotional, were still etched deep within . The events of that night had shattered my trust, leaving vulnerable and broken.
As I clasped my fingers tightly around each other unconsciously, the room seed to close in around . The air grew thick, suffocating my senses, and my heart quickened its pace than before. My breath beca shallow, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. I could feel the tendrils of panic slowly creeping up my spine, threatening to consu .
In my mind’s eye, the mories played like a horror movie on repeat. I rembered the warmth of his smile, the tenderness in his touch. He had been the one I had trusted the most, the one I had allowed myself to fall in love with. But that night, everything had changed.
Three n, including the one I had loved, had turned against . Their betrayal had been swift and brutal, leaving battered and bruised, both physically and emotionally. They had shattered my sense of safety and security, leaving to question everything I had believed in.
As the mories flooded back, I felt a surge of anger and fear intertwine within . The pain I had buried deep within my soul resurfaced, raw and unyielding. The panic tightened its grip around , threatening to pull under its suffocating weight.
I desperately tried to regain control, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. But the panic was relentless, its grip tightening with each passing second. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears, drowning out all rational thought.
In a desperate attempt to find solace, I turned to the coping chanisms I had read about in books at one ti. I closed my eyes and focused on my breath, attempting to slow down the rapid pace of my heartbeat. But the mories continued to assault , each one more vivid and painful than the last.
The panic attack reached its peak, and I felt as if I was being pulled into a vortex of darkness. The room spun around , and a wave of nausea washed over . I clutched my chest, gasping for air, desperately trying to hold on to reality.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the panic began to subside. My breathing gradually steadied, and the room slowly ca back into focus. I was left feeling drained, as if a storm had passed through , leaving destruction in its wake.
As I sat there, tears streaming down my face, I realized that healing from such a traumatic event would take ti. The scars may never fully fade, but I was determined to reclaim my life and find strength in my vulnerability.
With that resolve, ca awareness. I beca aware of Diana shaking , I heard her calling for her mother.
At first her voice was as if from far, soft as if she was beckoning on from a far land, but as I tried to follow her voice, needing to be out of my dangerous mories, her voice got louder, frantic. She was sobbing even.
It was then I raised my eyes up and saw Laura and Peter.
I looked at myself. I was on the floor, on my buttocks. Had Diana pushed to the floor so that I could get myself?
"What happened, Diana?" Laura asked a sobbing Diana who kept heaving in and out to control her tears.
I wasn’t sure what happened so I don’t offer to speak, mostly for fear that I would get drowned in my mories again. I wanted to excuse myself, but that would seem suspicious. I already told them that I didn’t rember anything.
"She had a panic attack when I told her about the annual peace pact ceremony that would be held at the lycan’s king pack." Diana stated, getting up from the ground.
She had fallen to the ground with too.
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