When I was first taken I thought the world had imploded on itself. One minute I was preparing for college for a degree in mathematics. The pans disappeared as I was placed in a cage and turned into a living science experiment. I knew that werewolves were taken for lab rats. Everyone did. It was the living boogyman of our world.
However knowing about it and actually being a part of such torture was something else.
In the beginning I cried constantly. I cried when I woke up, when I was yanked out of my cell and when I was tortured. I cried for mercy, I cried for freedom and I cried for my life. Then the moment came. The moment when I had stopped crying. It was gradual, barely noticeable but suddenly it was there. The moment when I realized I hadn't cried in days.
I wish I could say that it was because I was stronger, because I grew braver. It wasn't. I stopped because I realized the truth. I believed someone would care because I thought the world couldn't be as horrible as what I saw. I stopped crying because I figure out that it was. The world had imploded on itself.
All the horrors of humanity was thrown on me and in turn I lost all hope. I experienced the worst emotional turmoil in my life. More worst than when my dad died. So if someone had told me that I hadn't yet known the worst life could have thrown at me I wouldn't have believed them.
However, here I was living in the greatest nightmare I ever had. A nightmare that was my reality. A nightmare that based all around a gold ring encircled around a finger.
Max was married.
My Max, the man who had held my heart. Max the same man who swore he would forever be mine. Max the one who I forced myself to live for.
All he could do was look at me, with grief in his eyes. As if his dreams, as if his life was coming to an end. He couldn't even say anything. All he could do was just stare at me, waiting for me to speak for him. To make this process easier on him.
To lead the way for him so that he could use me as a compass to get out of the mess he threw me in.
I wouldn't provide him with the closure that I would never have a chance of having.
Just like that, every emotion of love I had for him was turned. Like a violent force of nature, my affection and adoration was altered by his betrayal. I hated him more than the loss of my life. More than Carl who tortured me and even more than the scientist who tried to rip my brain apart.
I hated him because he gave up on me.
Disgusted I turned and I walk right out of his office, letting him know what I was feeling.
I gave up on him.