ALL MY TROUBLES ON A BURNING PILE,
ALL LIT UP AND I START TO SMILE.
━━ Burning Pile, Mother Mother.
best read in
Brayden feels the storm brewing, fire lacing every breath. Her small heart struggles to keep up. She never understands what someone means when they say a thing, nor does she understand why change is a good thing. Change stirs problems, problems brew pain. The jagged scar down her sternum giggles in delight. Her fingers trace it, thinking fondly of cool metal and searing blood.
She is sixteen, but can barely remember time before. Memories are inky on the pages, handwriting illegible, try as she might, she cannot recall. The scars that litter her body are reminders that her story is not that, but her life. They are slim and pink, young, youthful. She remembers the hurt and the sorrow.
Under her fragile skin, she can feel the longing, that tether. She sees it when she closes her eyes too. Biting teeth and glowing eyes drawing ever closer, pulled by a long red string, like blood. The change is not welcome. It brings trouble.
Brayden knows that trouble wears a mask. It hides in plain sight; behind the eyes of a blonde woman who has blood on her teeth, in the flickering numbers of a scale. She knows that and yet she does not know what it is until it is much too late, it is always too late.
She tells herself that it will be okay, but she lies over and over, until she can taste the bitter hatred for her own words, for herself for believing it. It is never going to be okay, especially when the golden gaze and bloodied maw of a wild animal reigns supreme over her nightmares.
Her father knows. He is tall and blue eyed, even though she sees them burn red in her sleep. He knows she cannot settle here, stay calm in a place where she was in so much pain. Change is good, he told her, told himself.
From her window, she can see the forest. At night, she hears animals fighting. Wolves howling and coyotes laughing. Sleep was unheard of. Troubles growing in shape, predatory. She wonders when, if, it will all stop. Silver laces her veins, cold and burning against her skin, slipping through her teeth when she coughs. She hopes to God her troubles will burn with her.
in which a daughter of the sea learns
to love a son of fangs and claws.
YOU ARE READING
BURNING PILE , liam dunbarFanfiction
It is not the future you are afraid of. It is the fear of the past reliving itself that haunts you. teen wolf s. five LIAM DUNBAR F!CHARACTER © 2021 ASTRID