Grey's Tribute

I'm Extending A Hand

The medication has been my savior; it allows me to drift off into nothingness.

The days slowly pass into months. It's my brother who holds me as I cry, uncontrollable grief renders me helpless like a child. It's my brother who changes the dressing on my back, on my arms, on my body, it's my brother I beg to kill me. I plead with him day and night to let me die. He stays up with me at night, crying with me, holding me as the nightmares come.

It's my brother who helps heal the outside, nursing me back to health, but it's the inside that's the worse. It's black like death, rotting and festering in its own pool of misery.

I feel like I'm in someone else's body, just breathing, taking up space...useless.

Unable withstand the sight of myself anymore, the look of me is as if a monster lives on the outside my skin. The first time I'd seen the scars, I couldn't even take a breath. I'm a horror, my once beautiful skin long gone, replaced by something grotesque. Pink crisis cross raised lines, crossing at odd angles across my back, wrapping around my waist, up my chest.

My arms... Where the tongue of the whip missed my back, long lines lick my arms greedily, leaving behind raised groves, deep valleys of uneven skin, forever marking me with its embrace.

Even now, after everything, I still flinch at the repulsive sight, the misshapen skin turning white than pink with age, leaving my flesh lifeless, the whip's line forever distorting me with its wickedness.

I'm the shell of the old me from six months ago, floating around my old pack like a ghost, filtering in and out, most of the time going unnoticed. I only wear things that cover me completely. My brother and the healers are the only ones who know the true extent of my injuries. My old pack doesn't need to see what was done to me. It could entice a war.

It's a challenge to wake up most days, so I just lie in bed, listening to my heartbeat. Eyes shut, brain numb, I just don't want to go on anymore.

I can tell when the Northerner calls, checking up on how I'm doing from my brother's deadly tone on the phone.

"How do you think she's doing?" or "All she kept asking me today was to let her die." Usually, the phone's thrown across the room with a prolific string of profanities to accompany it.

He keeps asking to talk to me, says he just wants to hear my voice. My brother just laughs at this request, calling him crazy...insane.

It's during this time, the dark time, which Victoria comes for me. As she has a long meeting with my brother behind closed doors, I'm left alone with her enforcer, Charlie. He doesn't even bother to look my way. It's like he's bored. I think he might've fallen asleep on the couch since soft snores trail out of his mouth.

What a mangy mutt, not giant enough looking for an enforcer. Dirty blond hair, with a scruffy looking beard. He's got some stains on that white shirt; jeans are old and faded. Black boots not even tied up, the laces frayed at the ends. The doors open to my brother's hopeful expression.

"Meela, Victoria's requesting your help. She wants to know if you would like to visit her pack?"

"Why?" As I look into her eyes, I see the pity, the sadness in them. She looks tortured herself.

"I don't turn my back on my friends; I fight for them."

"I'm not your friend, Victoria." It's just whispered out, no menace in words, just a fact.

"I never said you were, but Grey is."

Just his name causes me to shiver. I haven't heard it in so long. In my head, yes, I hear his name over and over again, but to hear it spoken out loud stops my breath.

"I owe Grey everything. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. If I were to turn my back on you, it would be turning my back on him." Her voice is gentle, so soft on my ears.

"Besides, it was my idea to use you as bait for my father. I knew you were always quick to react, never thinking of the consequences. My father knew this, so he goaded you until you snapped. I knew he was planning to kill you. He was just waiting for the perfect opportunity, just to get me out of my brother's way. The old fool hated me since the day I was born. It was the only way, Meela. Grey agreed. I never thought you'd get so mad; I never thought this would happen. The consequences of our choices sometimes lead to great things and other times to horrific endings."

I just stare at her, not able to say anything.

"I think this would be good for you. It has to be very difficult for your brother to watch you suffer so much?" She has a point, looking at my brother. Never once have I taken his feeling into account. I'm so wrapped up in myself, I never actually gave my brother much thought.

I'm selfish, and a feeling of shame washes over me. I look at him, and I see his worry for me, his sadness for me. It's taken a profound toll on him.

"There are conditions." Her voice has me listening and eye rolling at the same time. Of course, there are always conditions.

"You will brush your teeth every day; you will shower every day, you will comb your hair every day, you will eat, you will get up every day. When you're done with your work for the day, that's your free time, do with it as you wish. You can come back here anytime; I'm not holding you against your will. It's your choice, Meela. I'm extending you a hand."

Bryon puts his hand on my shoulder. "I think this would be good, Meela." I hear a tiny crack in his voice as it breaks. "I don't know how to help you anymore. I want you to get better." He pulls me in for a hug. I haven't hugged him in a long time, and it feels good.

Looking at my brother and seeing hope for me in his eyes, I can't say no. I can't stay here and die in front of him; it would kill him. "I'll come."

Everyone lets out the breath they've must been holding... Except for Charlie who's fallen asleep again.