*Featured on Wattpad Urban Fantasy and Stories Undiscovered profiles*
"Alcohol, Cigarettes, and Sex won't get rid of the bitterness in your life."
"Sugar," he loved the way her skin throbbed beneath his touch. "How else would my life be sweet?"
A hu...
He huddled himself on the ground, hugging his grazed knees. His hands clutched his new bruise tightly as he let out loud cries. He couldn't bear to stare at his mother's open chest and the blood that pooled her like a river. The horror would paralyze him. He knew his neighbors were watching, some of them whispered while some of them had their palms to their mouths in shock.
"No! Let me go! Don't take her away!" he screamed and trashed in the arms of whoever pulled him away. Though he was overpowered by the sirens of the cop cars and the ambulance, he didn't stop screaming. He did so until his voice box gave up and all he did was stare in sadness as his mother was wrapped up in thin white sheets.
His fist collided with the mirror above the sink of his bathroom as he breathed heavily, ignoring the throbbing pain. He hated the memories and the nightmares. He hated himself especially for letting his mother to take his place when the wolf attacked.
"Leave me the fuck alone!" he pulled his hair with his right hand, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His muscles were tensed and he felt like someone was choking him. Slowly, he calmed himself down and looked down at the mess he created in the sink and also his formerly bruised knuckles. The wound was open again and this time, it looked more horrifying than it was.
He turned on the faucet on the sink and attempted to rinse off the blood that leaked from the wound. The more he tried to rinse the blood, the more it bled. He groaned and turned off the faucet before shutting his bathroom door. He picked his bag from his bed and made his way downstairs. He knew he skipped breakfast, not the first time.
"All he needs is time." he heard his Gran sigh and he snorted inwardly and entered the kitchen. His grandfather stood close to his Gran who was busy with the sink.
He sat down at the dining and helped himself to the cold breakfast that sat alone at the table.
"Morning Lance. You took your time in there. Are you that nervous for your first day at school?" she asked in a chirpy voice that made his blood turn ice.
"No I'm not." he scoffed at the idea of him being nervous. If anything, she was the one who was supposed to feel nervous for sending a boy with a record of 10 suspensions and 1 expulsion to a new school.
"Watch your tone." his grandfather decided to poke his nose in and he rolled his eyes.
"Mind your own business." he said it calmly to infuriate his grandfather. And he guessed that worked as his grandfather slammed his hand by the side of the microwave.
