Staring at my hands, I know I should tell my parents sooner rather than later. After all, I don't have much time. "I think I will tell them now before I chicken out and wait until the last minute. I know it will be better if I give them more time to process." I mutter, feeling my heart race. I feel planted in my bed, scared about what will happen. Madison can sense my internal struggle and gently places her hand on mine. Hesitantly standing off the bed, I give Madison's hand a light squeeze before walking to my door.
"Good luck," she says to me with a wry smile. Giving her one back, I take a deep breath and open the door.
The walk down the hallway feels intense, and my heart hasn't slowed. The fear is washing over me, and I start overthinking. I'm not too fond of confrontation, and having to tell my parents the news makes me want to throw up. I love them so much, and the last thing I want to do is disappoint them. Rubbing my hand up and down my arm, I slowly descend the stairs. There's a part of me that hopes she isn't in there, but another part that hopes she is so I can get the anticipation off my chest.
Walking into the kitchen, I feel the cold air brush against my skin, giving me goosebumps. I see my mother isn't in the kitchen, and I give everyone a small smile. Someone says something to me, to which I respond before walking away. I don't have time for small talk right now because I feel like my heart will burst and my stomach is twisting.
I look down the hall and decide to walk toward the next possible place she could be. Some doors are slightly ajar, making noise in the room, while others are shut. Once I'm in front of the door, I slowly push the door to her office open, saying, "Mom?" The room is ice cold, and all the lights are off, with only the light from her computer bouncing off the walls.
Shutting the door behind me, I walk over to her desk and sit in the chair. Leaning back in it, I glance around the room. Her office has been the same way for as long as I can remember. My eyes stopped on one of the pictures and went off to the left side of her desk, and I just examined it. In the picture, young me is sitting on my father's shoulders with a big toothy grin. My mother is pressed to his side, and little Justin stands in front of her. We all look so happy, and it makes me smile. Gently picking up the picture, I turn it over and undo the backings on the frame. My mother always writes information on the back of each photo so she can never forget.
Justin- 8. Allie- 6. May 12, 2005
Justin's birthday happened a week after this photo. Assembling the frame and placing it in its spot, I look at the other images. There is one of just Justin and me from when we had to be about 12 and 9, and we are wearing matching onesies. I had a big grin on my face with Justin's arm wrapped around my shoulders.
Then there are two photos next to it; one is my senior photo, and the other is Justin's. In mine, I'm leaning against the railing of a bridge in a cute outfit. In Justins, he's against a brick wall of a random building with his arms crossed and a slight smile as if trying to look cool. Staring at the collection of photos that she had collected over the years on my mother's desk, I can't help but smile. Some memories of what the pictures captured cross through my mind, and I stay in the chair with my chin firmly planted in my hand.
My heart feels heavy as I think about leaving this packhouse and all my memories tucked into these walls. The collection of mine, Justin's, and Madison's heights over the years is written onto the door frame of this office. The scratches on the dining room table I would put on it using a mechanical pencil. All the laughs the three of us had while being kids. I feel a single tear slide down my cheek, remembering it all. Composing myself, I stand out of the chair and walk out of the office, shutting the door behind me. I need to find them and get this off my chest; if I don't, I don't know when I'll have the courage to do it.
I glimpse at all the photos and decorations, dragging my feet as I head further into the hall. Passing my dad's office, I peer into it. His walls aren't as decorated as my mother's, but I enter the room. At his desk, he only has two photos in a simple frame. One is a picture of all of us smiling, and the other is one of us in our wolf form. My father and brother are in the middle, while my mother and I are on the outside. I look at each form and glance at the different colored fur we have. There's something extraordinary about the picture that I keep examining. I forgot that we even did this.
If humans saw us in this form, they would have no idea what we were. They would think we were just regular wolves. I wonder what humans know about us. Do some know of everything that exists, or are they all oblivious?
I wonder if there will ever be a time when humans, werewolves, and vampires live in the same society. If that ever happens, it will take much time to become routine, but would that even work? Coexisting with each other would be hard. Humans would have to get used to the fact that our bones break everywhere, which causes us to turn into animals, vampires lust after blood, and vampires and werewolves hate each other.
Setting down the picture, I didn't even know I had grabbed it. I sighed, standing up and leaving his office. Running my hands through my hair, I walk toward my parent's bedroom. The hallway is empty, and as I approach the door, I hear no sound coming from the room. My parent's room is at the end of the hall, and as I get closer to the door, my breath starts getting shaky. I knocked three times on the wooden door, waiting. Silence filters out of the room, and I let a few moments pass with the door remaining shut. "Mom?" I announce, be greeted by no voices. "Dad?"
Realizing that neither of them are here, I sigh and press the ends of my hair between my fingers. Where the hell are they? Walking away, I stroll down the hallway again until I enter the kitchen. Combing through the refrigerator, I pull out something to snack on. Hearing footsteps hit the tile, I glance over my shoulder and turn around, realizing it's Justin. "What are you doing?" He asks, causing me to look at him.
I hold up my snack to show him. "Eating," I say bluntly. He continues walking after glancing at my hand. "Where's mom and dad?" I question before he can walk away.
He doesn't bother looking in my direction before shrugging, "Why would I know?" I sigh, finishing my food as Justin leaves my sight. Jerk. Shaking my head, I walk out of the kitchen, tossing the package into the trash. Walking up the stairs, I hear the front door open and stop halfway up. Listening to the people entering, I hear my mother's faint voice, which causes my heart to race. Their voices start getting louder, meaning they are getting closer to the stairs, and absentmindedly, I quickly ascend the stairs. As I step closer to my room, my heart is beating so fast I feel like I may have a heart attack. Once I'm in the safety of my room, I shut the door and let the silence try to calm my overwhelming thoughts. Fuck. I need to go and tell them.
Taking a few deep breaths, I start pacing around my room, trying to figure out how to describe the situation to my parents. Situations involving confrontation make me anxious, and I run different scenarios through my head. I stop pacing to try and calm my heart before hesitantly opening my door. The walk through the halls makes my nerves go crazy, and I feel a sensation of nausea in the pit of my stomach. As I am nearly at my parent's bedroom door, I struggle to swallow the lump sitting in the back of my throat. As I'm standing an inch away from my parent's room with the only thing separating us is the door, trying to knock feels impossible.
Finally gaining the courage, I press my knuckles against the door several times and await an answer. I hear shuffling in the room, and my heart stops when the door handle clicks. The door opens, and I am face to face with my mother, "Oh, hi, baby." She announces, smiling at me. I stare at her, feeling a wave of nausea wash over me. Taking a deep breath, I feel my eyes widen as the intense emotions fill my head. "Allie, honey. Are you okay? You look really pale." She says, a look of concern masking her face. I shake my head, feeling tears prick in my eyes. No. Not at all. I want to say.
"Mom, can we talk?" I ask, staring at my hands. What I originally planned to say has left my brain, and my chest feels tight.
"Of course, sweetie." She states, motioning for me to walk into the room. I comply with her, and as I step into the room, the cold air pricks at my bare skin, causing me to rub my arm. I sit on the edge of the bed with her taking a seat next to me. I can see her staring at me out of my peripheral. "But before you tell me, where were you today? I was worried about you when you didn't come home earlier with Justin." My mother says, taking my hands in hers. This forces me to look at her, and it seems like we're going to jump right into this conversation.
I was with the person you disapprove of most.
"I was with Mason," I announce honestly. There is no reason to lie to her; I might as well just get everything out in the open. Her face becomes expressionless, and her eyes change to black. I can tell that she's not happy.
"Oh, Mason." She repeats in a monotone voice. When she gets like this, it becomes hard to decipher exactly what she's thinking. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I'm about to speak when she beats me to it. "How was that?" she continues, staring intensely at me.
"W-Well, Mom," I stutter, "We were talking, and he asked me to move into his pack house by the end of this week," I mutter, looking down at our connected hands. It was now or never. I don't know if I would have said it if I didn't blurt it out. The silence is thick between us, and an awkward tension fills the air.
"And what did you say?" She asks quietly, squeezing my hand tightly.
Making eye contact with her, I whisper, "I told him I would do it, give him a chance, and I meant it. I'm willing to try this out." My eyes start watering, and I hold back the tears threatening to fall. A tear slides down my mother's red cheek, causing my heart to hurt. Seeing my mother cry was enough to cause a few tears to escape my eyes.
She wraps me in a tight hug, whispering, "Oh, honey." She whispers, "Are you sure this is the right decision? I know he's your mate, but I don't think he's right for you." She says with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her statement annoys me slightly; how can someone disagree with fate? The Gods matched us together; there is no mistake. All the feelings rushing through me cause me to sob.
"Yes," Is all I can say. My mother starts shaking slightly as the emotions settle in, and it makes me upset to see her like this. Part of me wonders if I'm making the right decision. Is this too soon? Are my parents right? Another part of me knows I need to do this to see if it can blossom into something more. If I don't do this or wait too long, I may not find out if he can make me the happiest person and see if we could have a good life together.
A minor headache starts forming with all my thoughts, and I know the crying isn't helping. The door opens as my mother and I continue to hold each other.
Dad.
He stares between Mom and me before turning around and almost shutting the door. My father is not an emotional person, and I know he really doesn't want to be part of this. He would rather let my mother deal with all of the emotional problems.
"Dad!" I call out before he can shut the door.
"What?" He questions, slowly walking back in.
"C-Come here," I look between my still sobbing mother and my confused father. "This involves you, too." The feeling of nausea returns as my father enters the room.