disowned

Vincenzo Moreno

My eyes glided across the screen of my phone. It was nothing other than a lecture slide that stared back at me. It'd been so for a while: me, buried in a book. I didn't think the status quo would change.

When I wasn't reading, I slept, or ate, or did what my battered mind thought up. Anything except thinking about the pack house. Sometimes, that line of thought was unavoidable, especially when I'd studied for a long time. You know, the occasional mind drift. I handled this by taking a break and running my feet across the carpet. Its soft, feathery feel helped to keep me at ease.

Contrary to what I'd believed, I still had an eye for my academics. Last week's happenings hadn't affected my zeal; hence I had been studying off my ass in preparation for mid semester tests.

A knock sounded. Ignoring it at first, I was forced to speak when it came again.

"I've had dinner," I grumbled, wondering why the maid was disturbing me.

"Hey, it's me." Michele.

I rolled my eyes; the