Part 1.1

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A few months later. . .

Aphmau took a deep breath. The lights in her room were already off, but she couldn't sleep yet. She just stared at the ceiling, her mind wandering off. The silence was starting to get to her, like the nightmares she had during the past few months.

She craned her neck to look at her legs, which were under the blanket she draped them over with. She tried moving her toes, but she could feel a little sting. She bit her lip. Apparently, this was her during her stay at the hospital: crippled, broken, and in pain.

She admitted it: everything was overwhelming. She looked like she came out after holding the entire world on her. Many people. . .suffered. Many people. . .died. She couldn't bear the mere thought of it all. Everything was her fault.

Not that she would tell anyone about it. No one didn't need to worry right now. She tried to suppress the urge to let her tears fall. No one needed to see her cry. She was a tough girl, someone with spunk—like what her mother would always say. But another part of her thought, You can't sass out of this one.

She sighed. A loser. A dumb, powerless, broken loser. That's what she was.

She looked at the door, which was closed. Occasionally, doctors and nurses came through that door, giving her consistent checkups or serving some food. They all looked stoic, even when they tried to be friendly around her. Sometimes, it's Travis or Melissa, who would check in every now and then. She enjoyed their company, but she also felt shallow.

Among them, it was Travis who understood that she needed time. Melissa would try to cheer her up by being the energetic loudspeaker in the room, which was honestly starting to annoy her. Sure, there were times when she would act like a normal person, but being around Travis made her comfortable somehow. They were going through the same thing and staying under the same roof.

Sometimes a guy from the Guardian Forces would ask her questions about things that happened back at the Celestial Cannon, but she was just revealing things she didn't want to remember. All she wanted was to recover then get out. She never wanted to see a G.F uniform again. Ever.

But that was what didn't bother her. It was the red coat hanging beside it. It was easier to spot with her eyes of a werewolf. It had black patterns on it. And it reminded her of something and someone. Someone who she just let her slide the first few weeks in the hospital, but then spend sleepless nights thinking about him.

Aaron Lycan. Amnesia. Blind.

The urge to cry surged, and she grunted as she tried to press it down. She bit her lip in frustration and concentrated. She could feel the tears on her eyes, ready to lose it. If the doctors knew, she could end up in the hospital longer.

She promised to herself that she'd let him go. Allow him to start a new life. Maybe find a new cute girlfriend. Or—or get married then have kids. At least, he's going to start clean, just like high school.

High school. . .

She turned to her right, where the nightstand was. Sitting on it were the wolf plush and her phone, both given by Melissa one time. She took the wolf plush and lifted it in front of her face.

It was a cute thing. It was a gift to Aaron, when she couldn't. . .back at high school. If there was one thing he will remember him by, it was this toy, and among other things.

She took her phone and turned it on. The bright screen filled her eyes and she had to adjust. She went to her messages and saw one contact.

FC.

She opened their conversation. The last text was sent a few years back. Meet me in the place where I met the real you. She remembered Phoenix Drop High. It was Aaron the entire time.

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