My father is gone. The reality of it keeps sinking in every time I wake up. Sleep can’t fix or change reality, but it does bring the comfort of not worrying about it. I’ll admit that what I was doing was unhealthy. It’s something that I should face sooner or later, but in my situation, it’s a rather difficult thing to do. I could not talk about my problems with anyone. I could not even talk about it to my human friends because, as far as they knew, my father was already gone—at least from the story that I told them when I got here. The only person, or werewolf, that I could really confide in is Ajax, whom I refuse to talk to. I refuse to trust him again. He had made several attempts to talk to me, but every time he did, I would slam the door in his face. I didn’t go unpunished when I disobeyed an order during an emergency. After making a recovery in the infirmary, I was given a week of suspension. Well, not like getting in trouble or getting kicked out of the academy is any of
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