The first part of Paige's POV was actually written by Jazzij3321. She did a one shot for the story which I edited and then added to the beginning of the chapter. The rest of the chapter is written by me though. 

This is dedicated to BeautifulDead for the amazing banner she made. Thank you so much :)

Thank you to everyone who voted/commented/fanned on the last chapter. It's amazing to know so many of you are fans of the story :)

(Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes)


Chapter 8

It's been months since my first shift. And almost two years since I've been on the outside world. Every so often I would shift to stretch but my wolf’s been aching for a run. A run I could never give her. I guess the hunters haven't noticed I’ve shifted already, hence the fact they haven't said anything about it.

I turned to my left looking at Ariel, seeing the changes in her skin.... her eyes. They no longer held that special spark I’d seen when I had first met her. They were dull and beginning to take on the lifeless glaze. We’ve learned looking at the calendar does  nothing, the both of us carefully blocking it from our field of vision. Every now and then though, my gaze will drift to the white, pristine calendar with the big red X’s marking each passing day. Month after month all the squares are filled with the X only to be replaced by a new, clean sheet ready to be counted down.

“Paige, Paige. You okay?” She looked at me curiously, probably wondering why I was staring at her.

“Um...yeah.” I responded to Ariel, after all I was staring.

Ariel and I have a pretty close bond, seeing as how we’re the only ones here. A part of me wishes sometimes that we had more company while another part of me is glad the hunters have restrained the number of lives they’ve ruined by imprisonment to two.  Every time we shift Ariel reinsures me and tells me how beautiful my wolf is. I kind of hope my wolf isn’t as great as she describes. It would be a downright crime to waste such a beautiful wolf on me, on a person that can’t do their wolf justice. I take her compliments nonetheless.

I can feel the bitterness start to seep into me. My hatred of the hunters and my wrongful caging hardening my once cheerful emotions. I’m finding I have to constantly remind myself not to talk like that. I really don't want to become bitter even though it’s almost inevitable.

Occasionally, Ariel and I will shift and try to break down the barriers keeping us captive. We haven’t gotten anywhere with that but I have a small hope that the metal is starting to wear down. I haven’t seen any signs of that but in this dreary prison, you have to have hope about some things.

Every now and then I can hear the little devil on my shoulder telling me to give up on hope. It’s getting me no where believing in things that will never happen. Believing that I’m strong enough to break an unbreakable door. Believing that somewhere out in the world Sutton, the only mom I’ve ever had, is still looking for me, never giving up hope. It’s foolish to believe in anything but like I said, when you have no inspiration, hope is the only thing that keeps you alive and sane.

            Ariel’s rare jokes remind me that there is humor in life, there is happiness and laughter. Not here, of course not here, but somewhere in the word there’s happiness and laughter. While my cell is the farthest thing from the happiest place on earth, Ariel’s jokes give bright spots in my hazy last two years.

With the loneliness setting in and my small thread of hope hanging on by a thing strand, all I can do is sit and daydream about what my life could have been like. I plan to stay here, in my cell, and live out the rest of my existence in solidarity, save for one comforting redhead.

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