Isolation&Solitude

01.

My mother was young, reckless, and careless. Yet, she always tried her best. At a young age I noticed it. When she would come home to me crying, or collapsing on the bed telling me it was time to cuddle and sleep.

I took after her. I started making food in my limit at the age of four. Brushing her hair, making sure she would brush her teeth and take a shower.

She was only thirteen when she had me, so I can't blame her for what she did.

I remember the day so vividly. I was seven, my birthday was exactly a month away. She had gotten a new job but she had been spending so much time there. Coming back so late.

I waited for her, like I always did. Sat down right in front of the door like some dog. The creaky rusted metal door opened, a tall dark looking man was the first thing I saw.

"Moon, this is mommy's friend. Beta Tyson." Her smile was so big it made my heart flutter. No matter how much I've tried she's never smiled this much for me.

I blink, looking at her confused. She looks happier, more so than after work.

"Mom?" I asked her in a small voice. She giggled at me, tilting her head.

"Yes, silly? Why are you looking at me like you don't know who I am?"

I looked to the man, standing up. "My Moon, she's very bright. If she were in school I'd bet she'd be the first in class. Responsible and so respectful." Mom beamed at me, I felt a spark of pride but as I saw her face she was doing it for him.

"Hello, Mister Tyson. It's nice to meet you, thank you for-" He interrupts me with a booming voice.

"I didn't speak." His deep voice says, I raise my eyebrow.

"Excuse me? I don't under-" He slapped me. Mom gasped loudly. The force was so strong I was knocked down.

"Respectful? Rika, you must be mistaken, this halfbreed bastard child thinks she can speak to me as if I'm as low as her. Bring some extra clothes for tonight, I want you out of here." He says before turning back to the door. "I'll give you five minutes."

I stood up, looking at my mother who stared at me with tears in her eyes. I took in a deep breath, ignoring my own shaky body. "He hasn't done that to you right?" I asked and she slowly shook her head. She was only twenty two.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." She cried as she wrapped her arms around me. I nodded my head, petting her silky black hair, he had definitely bought her new clothes, new perfumes, a hair cut. Everything.

She left, and didn't come back until my birthday had already past. She came back sobbing on her knees as she saw me still waiting at the door for her. I remember that it was harder to hold in the tears that time.

I snapped myself out of it. It's been ten years since then. She left me completely, she started being cold and hating me just like that man. Now that I'm older I understand why he hated me so much.

I'm seventeen now, I've been on my own and fending for myself. I barely look back at my past. Maybe it's because I remembered it was that woman's birthday today. She's 30 now.

I take in a deep breath through my nose, closing my eyes as I exhale slowly from my mouth. I open my eyes, looking at the sculpture I was making. My hands a faint red from the clay I was working with. I've survived through this...gift I have. My hands had been blessed, I can create art. Make things beautiful by the flick of my wrists. I've been saved by this blessing.

Paintings, ceramics, sculptures. Whatever the modern Alpha's and rich people of the world want I make. Most of them want sculptures of their own bodies. Their egotism feed my bank.

Others want paintings of their women. Unique bowls and glasses for their mates. This was the only way of connection to the other half of my blood line. The only way they find me useful.

To the werewolves I was weak. The other half of me disgusted them. Humans were things who did not respect themselves, or the earth under their feet, nor the powers that are beyond their understanding. Things with weak blood, things with out a meaning.

It was the same with the human side. I was stronger than them, faster.

They had one thing in common, werewolves and humans. They were afraid of things they couldn't understand. I've learned that over the years. They were scared of me because I was something they never wanted happening. Werewolves and humans mixed blood. A form of connection. A form of intimacy of both kinds.

That is why that Beta hated me so. Werewolves care for rank. It's all over the daily life they live. For me to speak to him was a high offense. I wasn't the first halfbreed. But I was the first to still be alive.

Most half-breeds do come out sickly. The blood of Werewolf too strong...and the first shift is a test to see if they would really survive. None ever do. Not just that. If you were to have a human mate...or if you were to have a child with a human. You, the person, and the child would be terminated.

I was picked up by a man who, in his own way, helped me figure it out that I was hated and made me find out fast.

I was ten when he found me, he was the leader of the red light district of the underground cities of rouges. He grabbed me by my scruff and put me in his care.

Hansel Xavier. Many rumors were made of this man. All have a tiny speck of the truth in the lies. He was the head warrior of the last king Lycanthrope. Even though he was a regular werewolf, he was strong and fearless.

Despite werewolves being cocky and spiteful, they cower to only one that is and will be always above them.

The Lycanthrope breed.

Speculation has risen over a thousands years, even before the century that the werewolves had taken over. That there was no longer any soul with pure Lycanthrope blood in their veins. The mysterious and brutal death of the royal family had never been resolved.

Hansel never spoke a word of what he knew, what he didn't know, and what he could've known. If you even mumble a word about the royal family he'd break something on their body. So I never asked.

The lack of emotion I had intrigued him. The silence I contained, and the blank look I always carry made him come to the conclusion that he'd keep me and teach me survival. Survival in the blood lust of the red light district and the pack of "up-ity motherfucking high ranking" wolves.

Five years after the harsh training, I left on my own to go to a high school...

I blink my eyes into a close after turning off the lamp by my side as I let myself rest.