Bruises and Bitemarks [Hiatus]

Goodbye, Amy

I found myself hesitating as I found the clearing that would lead me to Zac’s house. If he really was a werewolf though, he would have sensed me by now because I am so close to his house, right? Either way, there was no turning back. I needed my pictures and I used them as my main source of motivation as I marched on towards his house.

I found myself at his front door and I knocked on it. While waiting I pulled off my hat from my head, letting my auburn hair fall around my face.

Zac wasn’t answering his door, but I knew he was home. I came around plenty of times to know that he practically never leaves his house. I knocked on the door again, this time with more vigor. I knew he heard me, I knew he knew I was standing on his porch—and I knew that he was probably avoiding me. His behaviour last time helped to justify that.

My knocking turned into banging and I started to yell. “Zac! Zac, I know you hear me! Come out here, right now!” I was about to yell again but the door swung open, and a half irritated looking Zac was standing in front of me, holding the door.

“Amy.” He said my name in such a grating manner that it made me both mentally swoon and falter at the same time. “What do you want?”

I knew things were different this time. It didn’t take a genius to see that things were tense, that he didn’t want to see me; that he wasn’t going to let me into the house like he normally would. He probably saw this coming if he really is a mind reader, because he would have been able to detect my thoughts since I was the only one in the area.

My Zac would have invited me in, would have led me to the dining room by now and made me sit for another meal of soup and bread…but now.

Not today.

We were presented to one another under different circumstances due to the event that had happened a few days before, and this Zac was not the Zac I knew. He wanted to avoid me, and I just don’t know his exact reasoning.

“I came for my photo album,” I told him. “I left it on your dining table last time.”

He shut the door in my face, and for the moment I didn’t even know how to respond.  But he came back a few second later, still holding the door tightly with one hand, and gave my white book to me. I took it, gladly, and tucked it into my satchel. He was about to close the door on me again but I quickly stepped up and held my arm against it just in time, placing myself in between the door and its frame. The movement was a clumsy one on my part and I almost fell over due to the force of the door being hit against my arm, but I was able to gain my balance quickly. 

My reflection danced off of his dreary eyes as he returned my gaze. We just looked at each other, not saying a word. As if the silence was our communication, my comfort for I was at least able to be near him. But this Zac had a detached aura to him, his eyes were dull and without life; his face, nothing except for nonchalant and distant. 

You could say mine was the opposite. I was concerned, I was even panicked. I had distress written all over my face, but there was also bewilderment.

What was wrong with him?

“Zac…?” I whispered his name, hurt and confusion were mixed into my voice. I kept my eyes on his, focused on those mesmerizing diamond pupils. He didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment he tore his eyes away from mine to stare at the floor. His grip on the door had loosened, but when I tried to step into the house his strength returned and he wouldn’t let it budge.

“You need to leave,” he finally said, sternly. A tone that he has not used with me before in all the weeks that I have known him, a tone that so much resembled that of a person who grew tired of someone and wanted to have nothing to do with them. His eyes grew darker and he forcefully pushed me away. I stumbled backwards and away from the door frame, back onto the lonely porch.

“But I—“

“Goodbye, Amy,” he said this loudly and slowly, as if to articulate so I could understand every last syllable and get the hint that he never wanted to see me again. I tried to say something once more but I was cut off by the door being shut in my face. Again.

A million thoughts ran through my mind at that moment and at first I didn’t even think that it was real. What have I done? Have I done something wrong?

When did I do anything wrong?