The Last Fight

Chapter #27 ~Willow~

Everything was happening so quickly, I couldn't process what was happening anymore. It felt like watching a movie and all I'm rooting for right now is a happy ending.

My parents had always been strict when it came to school. Grades always came first, but with everything else they were laid back. Still, I was shocked how well they took the whole werewolf thing in. Maybe they hadn't taken it all in yet. They were probably thinking about something else. Or someone.

We finally arrive back at the base. No one was in the training area. One glance at the time told me, everyone went to bed.

"Hey, do you want me to walk you to your bedroom?" Lucas approaches me. He looks worn out and tired.

I nod and I say goodnight to Jayce and Sage before we start walking.

"How are you?" Lucas asks me quietly.

My brother. That was the only thing on my mind. He was dead. I was never going to see him or hear his voice again.

"Is that seriously a necessary question? My younger brother was just murdered and you're asking me 'how are you?'" I immediately snap without thinking.

Lucas only nods as we turn a hallway corner and arrive at my room. I'm about to walk into my room when Lucas stops me.

"Do you want a hug..?" His attempt to make me feel like slightest bit better almost makes me smile.

I embrace him gratefully. I can smell the familiar scent of pine. He radiated warmth.

"Goodnight Lucas." I smile a little bit.

"Goodnight Willow." Lucas returns a small smile.

I walk into my room and shut the door behind me. Suddenly I break down, every piece that Lucas might've just put back together, falls apart. I sit down on my bed, sobs racking my body. My shoulder felt numb. I take off the tightly wrapped sweater around my shoulder.

This is all I have left of him.

I scream out and throw the sweater across my room. It lands softly on the floor. Its blue colour had turned purple with blood. I continue to cry and let it all out. My whole body was going numb, I couldn't feel my fingers or my legs. All I could do or focus on was crying over the loss of my brother. All I could feel was grief.

Then instead of grief my whole body filled with rage. They took him so young. He didn't deserve it and it was all Diana's fault. Suddenly instead of shaking with sadness I shook with anger. I imagined wrapping my hands around Diana's throat and watching her struggle to breathe. To stay alive. I was going to get my revenge on Diana and everyone that works for her. I am going to make her sorry for what she did.

In pure fury I let out another a scream and punch my wall, my fist causing a large hole. A jolt of pain goes through my fist, making the emotional pain distracting. I punch again. Again. Holes begin to swarm my wall. In exhaustion I sit down on my bed. My knuckles had turned a bright red and blood dripped to my floor. My breaths are jagged. I walk across the room to my brother's sweater and hold the material in my hands. I sit down on the floor and lean against the wall. For once I'm thankful for the soundproof walls. My eyes eventually get heavy as I drift off to a sleep that is going to be plagued by nightmares.

~~~

My eyes flutter open. I'm laying on my floor, still holding the sweater. I was hoping it was all a nightmare, but it wasn't. My brother was still dead and my knuckles still had a coat of dried blood on them. My whole body throbs as I stand up, begging to go back to bed but I force my self to leave the sweater and my room.