Werewolf Compilations

Chapter 110



Chapter 110

James took the diaries from my bedroom. He said I can't read them anymore. He put them in the library

and locked the door and moved the shelf in front of it and told me to stay away. He said he was going

to call the doctor but I begged him not to. I told him that if he did, I would leave. I was emotional at the

time.

I still have my books and my music and my mother, and I talk to her every night now. I don't care about

our disagreements anymore. She doesn't know about what I did, though. If she did, she would drag me

back home.

I eat all of my meals with James or Gail and Theresa. I assume he told them so they can keep an eye

on me. I shower with the door open and one of them sits in my bedroom as I do so. If I want to shave,

they fetch a razor. One of them is always in the kitchen. They don't talk about sad things anymore, only Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

positive things. I want them to stop.

James spends more time with me now, and his father hasn't left. James told his father about me and

didn't tell me how he reacted. His father helps with the pack a bit, working while James is with me. I

feel like I'm holding him back. I feel guilty, but I do enjoy spending time with him. It's the only good thing

coming out of this. He stays in the mornings. I wake up with him.

"Good morning," I hear him mumble as he shifts and rolls over, facing me. I'm always awake before

him.

The sun is just beginning to rise and the walls are coated in warmth. His hair is messy and I comb

through it with my fingers. "Good morning."

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better," I tell him honestly. "Ever since I stopped reading the diaries I've been feeling better."

"Good," he says, moving to get up, but I grab onto him.

"Not yet. I like these moments."

James settles back down. "Well, we can talk about my father coming for dinner then. He wants to meet

you."

"What? He wants to meet me? I thought he was upset when he found out about me?"

"He was at first, but I think he's warming up to the idea. I think it's a good sign. Maybe he's changed,"

James says. "But until I know for sure, I'm going to be cautious. I don't want him around you if he's

going to snap."

"Snap?" I question.

James shrugs it off. "Don't worry about it. I don't want you worrying about anything, okay?"

I nod and settle back down. "So he's coming tonight then?"

"If it's alright with you."

"I mean, of course. I want to meet him, too," I say, curious about this man who holds such an unclear

reputation. I'll have to see for myself.

Later in the day, when James has left the house, I find myself in my bedroom alone, laying on my bed.

Since that night, I've been trying to understand myself, trying to figure out how my mind went in the

wrong direction so quickly. Maybe it was the diaries. Julianna's thoughts must have gotten to me.

Reading so much of that and rekindling an old fear wasn't a good mix. That version of myself, that girl

in the bathtub scares me. It was the darkest place I've ever been, and yet I can't figure out how it

happened in only a flash.

When I was younger my episodes lasted weeks at a time. Just when I was back home, my head wasn't

in a good place, it was a steady descent down. But this time it was different. I was at a peak, I was the

all-powerful Luna, the girl they wanted to be, the girl who laughs and kisses boys, I was willing to go

there with James, then it was a free-fall down. I was pushed off a cliff and drowned in the depths of the

ocean. There was no steady descent. I'm scared of falling off again. I don't know what will happen if

there's a next time.

I told myself that I wasn't like his mother, and I know I'm not. I know it.

Her diary is toxic. There was a difference between sad Rae when James was cold to me and sad Rae

when I sat in the bathtub. I know the first one, I've been here many times in my life, but I don't know the

second one. She's a stranger to me. She's a different form of depression that didn't feel like my own.

I sound like Julianna, blaming my problems on something that's not really here, but it makes sense to

me. If I immerse myself in the mind of a sick person, I will become sick, too.


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