I stood alone in my dimly lit room, surrounded by a veil of silence that allowed my thoughts to echo through the caverns of my mind.
I knew I was about to embark on a daring journey, one that would force to confront my past, her fears, and the very people who had once inflicted imasurable pain upon .
But I am not the sa fragile girl who had been beaten to the brink of death. I was different now, stronger, both physically and emotionally.
At least I think so.
It was as Diana had stated it, the Queen had announced the party two days prior, but only to the eligible representatives of their families who had shared the information to their family mbers.
Dim had communicated the sa to Peter since he was the representative of their family-he had only done that in the center square to make a fool of himself rather, for Laura had already gotten a special invitation from the Queen herself. And so today is the day whereby I go back to the pack that has hunted my life.
In the early hours of today, or rather since the panic attack incident a few days ago, Laura and Peter, Diana included, has taken it upon themselves to motivate at every opportunity they get whilst feeding tons of liquid for my mory, and therapy books for my fears.
And that’s why now, as I stood before my mirror, I believed that I could do anything-not because of the therapy or the books, mind you, but because of my new family. They had been true to their words. They were going through hell with .
Diana for one, leaves written therapeutic short notes of inspiration at my doorstep every morning. She keeps the tiny paper glued to the ground with magic of course. That beautiful one. I’m sure she will write a book one day.
I took a deep breath in, before going ahead with making a few preparations for the party. Diana would soon co knocking the hell out of my door.
She has been so enthusiastic since Laura had permitted her to go with us-she had adamantly refused to stay with her friends back at the community for this year’s celebration. But of course there was a condition. That she stayed glued to my side all through the almost two day eting. I am still deciding if that was a good preposition or a bad one.
As I prepared for the party, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. I looked at the exquisite mask Laura had gifted , a delicate work of art in lace and crystals, plusa soothing effect of magic.
It was more than just an accessory; it was a protective shield, hiding my identity and the mories of that harrowing night. It wasn’t a mask-thed party, but masks were allowed. The first I have seen, or rather read.
My makeup was a form of artistry, a way to ensure that the rest of her appeared flawless, even if her heart quivered with apprehension.
I painted my lips a soft, rose-colored hue and applied a subtle smoky eye. The mask might hide my face, but I wanted every other aspect of to be impeccable. Thanks to Noami for her tutelage in makeup application. It’s never been so useful than now.
My eyes fell on the wig I had chosen from the stylist’s store, a long, wavy blond mane that was a stark contrast to my natural dark hair.
It wasn’t just a disguise; it was my armor, my safeguard from judgnt and mories I wasn’t quite ready to confront. I adjusted the wig, making sure it sat perfectly atop my head. My reflection in the mirror offered a reassuring nod. I was ready.
Hopefully, I am.
I couldn’t help but wonder again though if anyone within the pack missed , or if they even recognized the extent of the pain they had inflicted. The scars on my body had healed, but the emotional ones still lingered, a haunting reminder of that fateful night.
I knew that the party would be my opportunity to see them all again. I thought of Adam and his brothers, who were once my torntors.
A surge of anger and resentnt welled up within , but I quickly suppressed it. This was not a night for revenge; it was a night for answers. Revenge was still early.
My thoughts then turned to Naomi, the one person I had cared about deeply. I had watched Naomi grow from a distance at one ti, her innocence gradually replaced by a quiet strength.
I wondered if Naomi thought about now, about the girl who had vanished from her life. A sense of guilt tugged at , and I hoped that, in so way, I could make ands: not that any of these had been my fault.
I felt a mixture of fear and anticipation as I contemplated my mother, the one person who had tried to protect my in that dark ti. My heart ached with the need to know if she was okay, if she had found happiness and healing in my absence.
The clock on the wall continued to tick loudly, a constant reminder that ti was slipping away. The party drew nearer, and with it, the promise of confronting my past and seeking answers.
I felt the heavy weight of my mission, but I refused to back down. I had co so far, and I had fought too hard, had even fought death; I can’t let fear hold back.
My final glimpse in the mirror revealed a transford woman. She was no longer the vulnerable girl they had beaten rcilessly; she was a survivor.
As I turned away to pack my overnight pack, and check if all my necessities were complete and present, I felt a chilly air wrap around and stay.
I shivered, and breathed out hastily, flinging my hands side to side as if to dispel cold. I couldn’t catch the cold now. Quickly, noticing that my window was open, I strolled to it and shut it, breathing deeply when I found the resemblance to warmth.
Should I pack a sweater? I thought, walking to my dresser. After a few guesses, I picked a cashre sweater and added to the bag, refusing to dwell on the fact that I would be wearing the mask till I left the pack. I wasn’t ready to face anyone.
The thought has always been there, but I refused to dwell on it. Laura had assured that no one would try to de-mask , no werewolf would try to approach with ill intentions. I had believed her, even though she hadn’t give any more explanations. More magic?
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