Wolfblood ━ TWILIGHT (being rewritten)

09

Her head was pounding by the time she stumbled through the front door. Like someone had taken a brick and took immense pleasure in slamming it into the bones behind her eyes without any sign of relenting. Her muscles ached, taut like a spring, coiled so tightly and threatening to break. She could hear the hum of electricity thrumming through the wires within the house.

Her bag was dropped at the door and she pulled it closed behind her softly. Fae blinked blearily at the clock on the hallway wall, mounted in the small space of wall between the stairs and the doorway into the garage. Five-oh-four, it read, she had thirty seven minutes before having to lock herself in the basement with her parents.

Thirty seven minutes to get her life sorted. Thirty seven minutes she should use to do her homework, especially given she didn't have a study period first. Thirty seven minutes she actually could not be bothered to use productively. Not with the ache in her head and pressure building beneath her skin, like a spring, coiled to its' breaking point.

Her hair draped over her back, like a curtain as she turned, twisting the lock on the door. Fae took a breath, like normal on the night of the moon, she'd be in charge of ensuring everything was locked, if in the rare chance they broke out of the basement, they would not come awaken the next morning in a random ditch three towns over. Not that Fae would ever admit that had happened when she'd stayed at Lexi's house one moon.

At least there was no cellar door to worry about coming open, or having to barricade without the neighbours thinking there was something suspicious going on.

Fae trudged upstairs, double checking windows and ensuring unnecessary lights were off, before crossing paths with her mother. Marie held a box of matches in one hand, and a bundle of dried chamomile flowers in the other.

It was said to carry the energy of the sun, bring clarity and prosperity as well as other healing and restorative properties. One their ancestors subscribed to, at least, given the way her mother insisted upon scattering it about in the house. A little indoor planter with a grow light on the kitchen bench by the window, despite her father joking about the light being better suited to grow some.. other plants in the basement. More in the front garden and a pot by the back door.

"You almost done?" Marie asked, Fae nodded her head.

"I might water the plants first, Gran looked a bit droopy." She replied, gesturing her hand in the direction of the living room, where a peace lily's dark, evergreen leaves sagged.

Her mother nodded, "Give her a drink and come down when you can."

They'd called the lily in the cherry red pot Gran since they'd taken it home with them from the old woman's house. It had been an upsetting, tedious process, especially for her father, going through all of his mother's things with his brother. She'd been twelve. Fae remembered having sat with her cousin, Maddie, and they'd cried, looking at the blue bucket filled with legos and the set of toys she'd kept aside to entertain them when they were little and visiting.

The family had divied up blankets and furniture and things they were unwilling to get rid of, others being collectively decided to go to charity shops. Maddie had gotten the red, fluffy blanket Gran had kept on the lounge, Fae picked the little peace lily in a red pot. They'd divided the legos between them. Yet according to their parents', neither ever played with them again.

Fae bit her lip as she filled up a glass with tap water. Where was her portion of lego anyways? She wandered over to the plant, carefully tipping the contents of the cup into the tray of the self watering pot. Her hand shook and a little bit of the water danced down the edge of the glass, landing onto the wood of the end table and a random magazine. "Shit."