Falling apart

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the gnawing hunger twisting my stomach. My body felt heavy, like I’d been asleep for days. I groggily turned my head to check the time on the clock by my bed—1:00 PM. I blinked a few times, trying to process the late hour.

Geez, I’d really slept that long? I stretched my arms overhead, my muscles stiff and achy. For a brief moment, there was peace, a quiet blankness in my mind. But then, like a dam breaking, the memories of last night came flooding in.

My breath caught in my throat as the weight of it all slammed into me. The shame hit first, clawing its way up from the pit of my stomach and leaving me cold. My face paled as flashes of the priestess's declaration echoed in my head. “This child has no wolf!” My chest tightened, and I gripped the edge of my blanket like it could somehow anchor me.

The hunger was long forgotten, replaced by a gut-wrenching cocktail of shame, disappointment, and anger. I sat up slowly, my movements mechanical, as though any sudden motion might cause me to shatter completely.

Why? The question burned in my mind. Why would the Moon Goddess deny me something so fundamental, so essential to who I was supposed to be? I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as anger bubbled beneath the surface.

What had I done to deserve this? Was I cursed? Forgotten? Or was I just deemed unworthy? The thoughts were relentless, each one sharper than the last.

I was angry at the goddess for not granting me a wolf like everyone else. The sting of rejection was unbearable. Why did she want me to go through this? Why force me to endure the stigma, the whispers, the looks of pity and disdain?

I stood abruptly, pacing the length of my room as the emotions surged. “It’s not fair,” I muttered under my breath, my voice cracking. My hands shook as I ran them through my hair, trying to make sense of it all. But there were no answers, only more questions and a deep, aching emptiness where my wolf should’ve been.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that I was wolfless, an anomaly in a world that didn’t understand anything less than perfection.

I stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, my forehead pressing against the cool surface. The anger inside me simmered, but beneath it was a sadness so deep it felt like it might swallow me whole.

I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to calm down. I couldn’t let this consume me. Not now. Not ever. But even as I told myself that, the weight of it all pressed harder against my chest.

I needed answers. I needed a reason. Because without one, I didn’t know how I could face what was to come.

~~~~

I curled into myself, pressing my face into the pillow as silent tears carved warm paths down my cheeks. My chest ached, and no matter how tightly I hugged the pillow, it couldn’t stop the emptiness that seemed to seep deeper into me. Minutes blurred into an hour, the world outside my little cocoon fading away.

A soft knock on the door broke through my haze, and my mom entered, carrying a tray of food and juice. The warm, familiar smell of my favorite meal wafted toward me, making my stomach rumble in protest of my earlier neglect.

“I thought you’d be hungry, so I brought you something to eat,” she said gently, setting the tray on my bedside table. Her voice was soothing, like a balm on an open wound.

I sat up slightly, wiping at my damp cheeks with the back of my hand. “Thanks, Mom,” I murmured, though my voice still felt raw.

She perched on the edge of my bed, studying me with a mix of concern and motherly determination. “How are you feeling now?”

I gave her a humorless laugh. “Like a wolfless werewolf.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her eyes filled with sadness. “Fair enough. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Mom,” I replied, forcing a small smile to reassure her.

She tilted her head, her tone suddenly shifting. “Now eat up, and then get your ass off that bed and take a shower. You stink.”

I blinked at her, startled by the change in mood. “Geez, thanks, Mom,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“You’re very welcome,” she quipped back, her grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. For a fleeting moment, the heaviness in the room lifted, and we both chuckled.

She patted my leg and stood. “I’ll leave you to it, but don’t take forever. I don’t want to have to air out your room.” With that, she left, her presence lingering like a warm hug.

I sighed and turned my attention to the food. Despite my earlier loss of appetite, the smell alone had me digging in quickly. The comforting flavors reminded me of simpler times, and for a brief moment, I felt...normal.

After finishing the meal, I forced myself to get up and head to the shower. The hot water cascaded over me, washing away the grime of yesterday and, for a moment, some of my lingering sadness.

Once I was dressed, I made my way downstairs. My dad and his beta, Uncle Josh, were seated in the living room, deep in discussion. Their voices quieted as I approached.

“Good afternoon, Dad. Good afternoon, Uncle Josh,” I greeted them politely.

Dad’s face softened into a warm smile. “Good afternoon, sweetie. How are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to muster a convincing smile. It was small and shaky, but it was something.

Dad’s eyes narrowed slightly, seeing right through me, but he let it slide. “It’ll be alright, darling,” he said gently. “Your mom had some urgent Luna matters to handle, but she asked me to pass along a favor. You don't have to if you're unable to though.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious.

“She said she’d appreciate it if you could pick up some groceries for her. The list is on the kitchen counter.”

I hesitated, considering retreating to my room instead, but then I thought about how my mom had stayed with me through everything last night. With a resigned sigh, I nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Thank you,” Dad said, his expression a mixture of gratitude and relief. Perhaps he feared I'd feel too broken to function today.

I turned to head to the kitchen, pausing only briefly when I noticed Uncle Josh hadn’t said a word to me since I entered. He kept his eyes averted, his lips pressed in a tight line. It stung more than I cared to admit, but I forced myself to shrug it off.

Grabbing the list from the counter, I called out a quick goodbye and stepped out of the house. The fresh air hit me, crisp and cool, carrying with it the faint sounds of the pack going about their day. I squared my shoulders and set off, determined to keep mo

ving forward, even if it felt like the weight of the world was on my back.