Blood Burden

« Chapter Twenty-Seven »

Her physical wounds had healed. 

The same could not be said for the wounds on her soul. Gory, crisscrossing, lashes cut through every piece of her existing being. They may bleed forever and because of it, she would inevitably bleed on people who didn't cut her. She had decided there were still good people in the world, Deikota and Jasper were proof of it, but she couldn't open up to them. It didn't feel right. They were just another face in the crowd to her and she knew this wasn't a place she could stay any longer. 

Maybe it was because Deikota continually tried to understand her. Or the kindness that was extended to her and her pack. Something about the feelings made her want to run. She didn't want to let anyone in, no matter how much they knocked on the door, she had found a way to deal with her pain and she wouldn't let anyone change it. She didn't feel pain now, she just existed.

She stood in front of the mirror, tracing the marks of her battle scars. 

As if her body wasn't marked enough, now she had to bear the reminder of her bestfriends death. Claw marks slashed across her abdomen in several places, vicious teeth had torn skin across her shoulder and other marks littered her limbs. They had healed but those angry, raised ridges of skin would never go away. Scars. They were permanent on her skin, just another addition to the collection. She hated it, like her own skin was a canvas that other people destroyed. She was supposed to be the artist but that, among other things, had also been stolen from her. 

Once again, she was without a choice. 

Her eyes stopped on the white marks that still delicately laced her collarbone and crossed over her right shoulder. They looked so misplaced on her skin now. There was nothing delicate about her anymore. She had once had her soul to protect but that was long gone. She wondered why the marks still existed and if they somehow represented her soul. If that was the case, they shouldn't be white because she wasn't pure nor innocent. Her soul was corrupted, even in its tiny little pieces of shattered hope. 

Perhaps the mark of the moon really was a curse. 

With a small sigh, she dropped her hand. She had unconsciously been tracing the mark of the moon. She finally met her own eyes in the mirror and she didn't even flinch at her reflection. She didn't see someone with a will to live. She didn't see a girl with a kind soul. She didn't see someone with strength. She saw hopelessness in those dull eyes.

She saw someone who had given up. 

A knock on the door brought her back to the present and she jerked away from the mirror. She pulled on a t-shirt to cover her body and then she called out for the person to enter. Deikota stepped inside her room with a warm smile. 

"Jasper and I were just talking," Deikota said, "Now that you've fully recovered, are you ready to head for Aloysius or do you want to hang out for a few more days? We're okay with whatever decision you make." 

"I have to finish what I started," She replied without a thought, "My pack needs the home they were promised at the beginning of this whole thing." 

Deikota nodded with understanding, "I like how you're a girl on a mission. We'll make the arrangements, is tomorrow morning too soon?" There was a hopeful tone in Deikota's voice, as if she wanted her to hang around more. Deikota had surely grown attached to her, more so than vice versa, but that was mostly because she refused to let Deikota in.  

"That's fine." 

"You'll definitely have to come back and visit," Deikota smiled again, "Alvarez would love to train you, if that's still what you want. Of course, you can't get rid of me because I often visit Aloysius." Deikota paused, and then added thoughtfully, "Probably more than I should."