Distracting The Distraction

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Achilles Morgan

If there was one thing that I was incredibly good at it was staying invisible. It was the main reason I was given the name of the Wraith in the first place. My strong ability to slip in and out of places unnoticed and fly through the night without once being seen.

Don't get me wrong I could also make myself the most noticeable person in the room. I'd only have to give someone a certain smile and as easily as that all the attention would be on me. I don't know why nor do I know how but it's just the way things have always been. Even as a child I got away with a lot just by offering a smile. It was strange and something I didn't really understand myself but it worked for me and that's just how I left it.

Now though as I walked down the halls, no one paid me any mind. With my head down, eyes trained on my feet and my hood up, I was invisible. No one spared me a glance.

I made a beeline to my locker and practically buried myself in it. My head was pounding. The migraine had been a constant nuisance all day. I was blinded with flashing colorful spots and craved darkness, quiet and stillness. Often nausea would overwhelm me and I would vomit. Twice today I've had to escape to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet bowl. Pain would throb so violently around my skull that I wondered why it didn't just crack open.

The temporary darkness of my locker made me feel only slightly better, the noise around me hurt my sensitive ears and I winced when the bell shrieked above my head. Tears sprang to my eyes as the pain became almost unbearable.

Fortunately, the corridors thinned until I was the only one left. A sigh of relief let me. Scrubbing my eyes, I pushed up the sleeves of my hoodie and shoved my books back in my locker. I was just gonna skip this period I couldn't sit there and suffer for any longer.

As I was putting my textbooks away I caught a glimpse of the scars on my forearm. They were thin pale white lines that were barely noticeable under all the other larger scars that I had received in various fights with other alphas and even a few wild animals.

These scars though they were evidence that I wasn't nearly as mentally strong as I liked to believe. When in my weakest moment I had succumbed to the anxiety and depression and hurt myself. I had only done it a couple of times when I really felt as though I couldn't go on anymore. I hated myself after it each time because I knew that I was better than that but even the strongest people have their weak moments.

I traced the scars lightly. Pain was a good motivator for me. When I had hurt myself like that the pain reminded me that no one could hurt me as much as I could hurt myself. I stopped doing that years ago, now I'd just get into a fight or piss someone off enough that they would punch me. Although after being told who the Prince thought I was to him, no one would risk as much as giving me a dirty look, never mind hitting me.

So instead I've resorted to working out. Like a lot. I'll go to school. Go back to the palace. Lock myself in my room and work out until every muscle, joint, and skin cell ached. At that point, I'm too exhausted to do anything but crash into a dreamless sleep.

It has been working so far but after a week, my body was about ready to shut down. I've been pushing myself too hard, I know that but it was rather that or feel shit about myself and that never ended well.

"Something I need to be worried about?" A voice said from beside me, making me jolt in surprise.

My head snapped to the concerned blue eyes of my best friend. "Alfie. Jeez. Shouldn't you be in class?" I asked as I shut my locker. Careful not to slam it. I didn't want to make my headache any worse.

"Class is over. It's the end of the day." He said, his concern only growing. My brows scrunched in confusion, just how long had I been standing here?

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