Chapter 11: Voyde

30 3 0
                                    

Picture above is Peter Garrison, Voyde's abusive dad. Yes he looks small, but he's not.

********************************

Ruben was laying on the bed and Katie was sowing me up. I stared at my feet. They were bare, and Carter's jeans were way to big. I pulled them up. My mom was looking at me and she touched my cheek.

"I'm so sorry baby," she said, her eyes glazing.

I nodded to her and leaned forward, wincing as the stitches pulled my skin. Tears filled my eyes, but my pride kept them in. I growled and stood up.

"I'm ready to go home. Or Robby's. He'll take care of me. He'll take me in," I said trying to keep my balance. I grabbed one of Carter's shirts and through it over my stitches. "I'll get these back to you, " I said nodding to his pants and shirt.

He smiled and ruffled my hair.

"Go on," he said softly.

I thanked him with a look and turned and limped/almost fell out the door. My mom hooked her arms around mine and helped me stand. She seemed so conflicted. I was staring at the ground when a boy walked by. He had brown hair, and was tall-but not as tall as me. I stood up straight and looked at the boy. He looked like the one that picked on Ruben. I growled low and my mother slapped my arm softly.

I looked at her and walked past the boy, who kept glancing back at me. I shook my arms out, almost screaming because of the pain. Tears again filled my blue eyes, and I blinked them back. Walking-or more like triping over and over again- out the door.

My mom shifted in the woods her long dress in her teeth. I grabbed it and slowly got on-fell- on her back. She moaned at my weight and started walking to our house.

"Are you sure we should go back?" I questioned her.

My mom just nodded her huge brown head and continued walking. His scent hit me and made me growl. My mother tried to keep calm, but he was het mate, and she loved him.

"Momma," I said.

She breathed out loud in response and I patted her neck. She snapped at me playfully. I laughed and my father growled behind us. My mom kept walking trying to ignore my father. I looked at my dad who was snarling at me.

My mom started jogging now, and my father startes fading away. My mom whined, and I knew her wolf was sad. Her mate was gone, and she was "alone". I sighed feeling guilty. I knew it was my fathers fault. He chose to be an Abusive father and alpha. I hated thag he was my father, and my kind hearted mothers mate.

I put my head in her fur and started to cry. My father used to hit me more when I cried, but now I didn't care. He had almost killed me. I wasn't as scared anymore. I wanted revenge for his abuse, but I told myself no.

No stuping to his level. No becoming the terrible alpha he was. Looking back I saw him standing and watching us. He raised his head, and howled mournfully. I was confused.

Why was he mournful? Suddenly I realized what happened. My mother rejected him. She loved him, but she broke their bond. Her pace increased as she got further away. She seemed happier then she had in a while. I smiled and turned flicking my father off. Screw him and his fists that enjoyed breaking me.

I sighed and almost fell off my moms back. Just now feeling how much blood I lost. My vision blurred and I looked around. Everything was a blur.

My mom whined as she felt me slide of her. I fell off and landed on my back. Ripples of pain shot from every cut. I was screaming my mom ran up to me her dress straps were quickly put on. She grabbed me and pulled me up so I wasn't getting dirt in my wounds. Tears were in my eyes and more screams csme from me.

I only heard them of course, and didn't realize they were my screams until my mom started whispering, "Shhhh."

I shut my mouth and bite my lip until the metallic taste of my blood filled my mouth. I spit it out and looked at her. She was biting her lip, but not as hard.

"Baby your okay," she whispered helping me up.

She helped me walk until we reached the house. It was old. Very old. And it made me smile. The oldness was something I admired. As my mom helped me walk up the steps, I winced through my smile. It burned a bit. I tried to keep my heavy breathing calm.

Everything smelt like honey, vanilla. I couldn't stand the smell and my mom laughed. I looked at her. Why was she laughing? She smiled and cupped my cheek in her left hand.

"Oh baby boy, you can always make me laugh," my mom said.

I shivered. My mom sighed and kissed my forhead. My father's scent was strong in the house making me feel sick. My mom noticed and frowned. I shivered and stared at the picture of our family. I was on my dads shoulder, and my mom stood under, helping to hold me up. I realized I was only 8, which was right before my dad started using fists instead of words.

When They Come Out To PlayWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu