Princess of the Rogues

The Beginning Of Recovery

                “Xander. No matter what he has done, he is your family. He was your brother and a good brother for the past 16 years. Honour that memory. He just got lost in his mind and turned down the wrong path,” I explained.

                “Then shouldn’t you be grieving your father,” Xander sneered back angrily.

                I turned my back to him furiously. That was no response. That wasn’t even justifiable. He was suffering with grief of losing a brother and nearly losing me but that was low. That was really low. My father did the hurting to me. He caused me this pain and these horrifying scars that would plague me forever. I quickly turned to face him.

                “How dare you Xander? Jamie was nothing like my father. From the day I was born to the day my father died, he was a father. He hated me and beat me and left those scars. He slashed me with the whips. I never once saw a kind side to him. I never developed the father daughter bond. He was always my enemy related to me by blood only,” I argued back.

                I saw realisation dawn across his face to what he actually said. He looked at me worriedly. I turned from him again as I controlled my simmering anger that threatened to explode as my hate for my father overwhelmed me.

                “Jen. Oh my god. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned him. I am so sorry. My mind is a mess and yes, I do grieve the brother I thought I lost but I hate him Jen. I hate him. He was the reason why my pack could have been destroyed but most of all the reason why you could have died.  How am I supposed to feel?” Xander spoke, exasperated.

                I felt a tear slip from my eyes as I turned to face him.

                “I don’t know Xander. You can grieve too. Just like your mother. Do you know how guilty I feel for killing him? Do you know how it feels to kill your last known family? Do you know how it feels to kill your own father? I am grieving at the concept of it not the loss of his life,” I cried, as Xander pulled me close to him.

                He hugged me gently as I calmed down. Thank god I don’t wear make-up right now otherwise I would look like a panda. Xander kissed the top of my head lightly and lovingly.

                “I am so sorry,” Xander spoke.

                “It’s fine. Just think knuckle head,” I spoke, trying to smile slightly.

                We continued walking down the stairs. Xander took hold of my hand again. He was feeling utterly guilty about what he said but I wasn’t going to be angry with him. We were all highly strung with our emotions. Everyone was and you could sense it around the pack house. People were struggling but this is how people were until we could begin to recover.

                We made it down to the bottom steps and went towards the back yard. Everyone was moving in that direction now. The funerals were soon. Xander and I made it outside and we began to head further through the forest where the graveyard for the pack was because it was all private property.