❁ C H A P T E R  T H I R T E E N ❁

D a t e : 5/12/18

I hate silence.

Pure silence, in particular. Something about the skin crawling nothing, drives me crazy. The type of silence where you can hear the pulse of your heart in your ears.

I woke up to silence, something that was almost foreign. In my house there was always a steady throb of sound, whether it be the near-constant sound of my families chatter, or my tv that I forgot to turn off.

I was creeped out by the silence. My body was heavy, but as soon as I could, I moved my hand to my face. After I had rubbed my eyes, I let them adjust to the sun-lit room. The first thing I noticed was the ceiling.

Instead of the glow in the dark stars I've had since I was a child, it was a slate of dull beige. There was a large window to the left, which curtains were tied back to let the warm sunlight in. A chair in the corner, a dresser on the side.

Definitely not my room.

Lifting myself up, I looked around the room, taking in all the details. I took a deep breath, taking in the sickly sweet smell of Vanilla. It was all over the room, all over the blankets, all over me.

Taking the clothe of the oversized t-shirt in my hands, I rubbed the material, before letting it fall.

I tried to recall what had happened the night before, but to no avail.  I could remember playing the card game bullshit with my brother, before blacking out in the middle of yelling Peanut Butter.

Tying my hair up, I crawled out of bed, and moved to the door, cracking it open. The house was familiar, and flashes of my childhood came back to me. Running through the halls, being yelled at. This was once Mecah's home. The home of happiness, and sorrow.

I pushed down my thoughts as I walked forward down the hall. Sharpening my hearing, I could hear the sound of movement downstairs. I took my time walking down the stairs, preparing myself for the inevitable.

Once I reached the downstairs, I stopped at the bottom, and peered around the corner. Connell was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes on the stove. My mother was drinking coffee, looking as much as a mess as me.

Once Connell noticed my scent, he looked up, straight at me peering from the corner. My face got hot as I stepped away, pushing my back against the wall. My mother must have heard, and called me in.

"Ruby, baby, come eat breakfast," She called, and I followed her orders begrudgingly. Connell had returned to fixing up breakfast when I walked in, which relieved me.

Sitting on a stool at the counter, I waited patiently while Connell placed a plate of food in front of me. Ignoring Connell, I started eating, and was halfway through my plate before he even sat down. It was a weird feeling, being so close to him, doing average people things.

"Mr. Wood was such a good help, Ruby. You should thank him- and stop eating like a rabid dog!" My mother rambled, and I could see Connell smirk as he took a sip of his Coffee.

Frowning at her, I swallowed my pancakes and sat back, looking bored. There was no way I was going to say thank you. My mother let out a sigh before standing.

"I'm going to go home, why don't you finish up eating," My mother told me, before leaving. Connell and I sat in silence, before I started to eat my pancakes once again.

"Do you feel alright?" Connell asked quietly, causing me to look up. I'm sure my face was not pleasant so I looked away, taking another bite of my food. He took that as a sign, and went back to sipping his coffee.

"You're a jackass." I said once I finished chewing, before going in for another bite. He looked up, surprise evident on his face. With a sigh, he put down his cup and stood, walking to the sink.

With a frown, he started to speak,  his voice rough. "You wouldn't understand."

I glared up at him, my heart pitting itself into my stomach. I hated that, someone telling you that you won't understand something.

"I deserve to know, you owe me that!" I spit back at him, angrily slamming my fork on my plate. The noise was clamorous, and then silence ensued.

He looked at me with a sullen expression, rubbing his face with his hand. He was contemplating something, before he sharply shook his head.

"Whatever I do, will hurt you," He said quietly, almost gently, as though he was trying to teach a child something. "Just leave it be Ruby."

I watched as he left the kitchen, my mind whizzing with confusion. Everything that had just happened was foggy, and as I tried to understand what he was saying, I came to the decision that I was probably fighting a losing battle.

I wasn't going to get any answers out of him.

Standing, I put my plate in the sink, before walking to the front door. I saw his dog wagging his tail, laying next to the door.

Kneeling down, I rubbed his ears, taking a deep breath. "Your dad is such a dick."

The dog just tilted his head and panted, before giving me a quick lick on the cheek. My immediate reaction was to wipe my cheek, before giving him another pat. With one last farewell I opened the door, and left.

I wasn't sure if I was worse off then before, or better. It all felt dull and empty, either way.

With my heart swirling with emotions, I looked up at his house one last time, before walking towards my own.

<><><>

Sara's house was a nice two story house with a paint chipped door and yellow flowers out front. It was a nice getaway, considering her parents were almost always gone, so it was always empty. Other than Sara, of course.

Sara always insists she liked solitude, but I know she doesn't. She'd grown used to it, being alone. If you knock on her door, however, she'll always answer. There's a part of her that always wants someone near her.

So, she answered the door when I knocked, and said nothing when I flew in looking like a mess.

I had gotten ready, in loose terms, in a very short amount of time. I threw on some sweats, a random shirt, and tucked Connells shirt deep in my drawers. I didn't brush my hair, forgot to put in my contacts, and only brushed my teeth because my mother told me to.

So it was safe to say that I looked rough. I refused to look in a mirror, afraid it would make me more depressed.

Sara looked as she always did, as though she just came out of art class. Her hair was secured in a bun, and she had her butterfly apron tied around her. Though there was no fresh paint on her, there was plenty of dried paint on the apron.

Her eyes were calculating, but she showed no emotions. She closed the door, and walked upstairs, saying nothing, only expecting me to follow.

I did of course, and soon we were settled in her room. I was lying on her bed, my face buried in my hands. She was working on a canvas in the corner of her room near her window. The smell of paint was overpowering, but she didn't seem to notice.

After a few minutes of silence, just as I detested, I decided to speak up.

"I was rejected," I said, skipping all the minor details and getting straight to the point. Her soothing paint strokes jerked to a stop, and she looked back at me.

She was thinking, a lot. Probably trying to come up with a statement that wouldn't be insensitive, and most likely failing to do so.

"You didn't tell anyone?" She went back to her painting, her expression flustered.

She was critical, just like her parents. She tries to find the reasonings behind things, and when there aren't good reasons, she thinks it's stupid. That's why she thinks most of my actions range on the idiotic side.

"I'm sorry," I ignored her question, not knowing what I would say if I was to answer it. Again she stopped painting, this time putting down her brush, moving to the bed.

"No reason to be," she said quietly, rubbing her hands on her apron. I actually saw her this time, the real Sara. The falling apart Sara- the one that is horrible at consoling people, but on occasion tries too.

She looked tired, but tried to hide it, sitting on the bed next to me. I felt bad, knowing that she already has a lot to think about. Unlike me, she doesn't have parents that would let her do whatever she wanted.

Her future is already set up, and her parents are resilient to change. They'd probably disown her if they knew she was attempting to get into CalArts.

"I could tell something was wrong," She continued, laying back on her bed next to me. I turned on my side to look at her, grabbing her arm.

"You were just so sad," Closing her eyes, she put her head on my shoulder. I took the opportunity to hug her, letting out a sigh.

"The world is so wrong when your sad Ruby," She mumbled, hugging me back. We stayed like that for a few minutes, both of us thinking about different things. My mind wandered from Connell, to Sara, to my future. Everything that was once clear, was now blurred.

I think Sara fell asleep not long after that, exhaustion kicking in. I stayed awake for a while after that, laying on my back, thinking. I texted my mom that I'd be home after dinner.

I was tired of being upset, but still my heart was filled with sadness. There were many legends in the wolf community, coming straight from Alexander McKay's Werewolf Guide, that say that once you are rejected you never heal. It's not like you get a second chance.

Your heart is always yearning for it's other piece. Some wolves even die from it, their heart basically giving up from the stress.

Once I got tired of staring at the ceiling, I closed my own eyes. Soon sleep took me too, and I allowed it without a fight.

Authors Note

Hey guys! I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I love Sara, and I hope you guys do too. Next chapter will have a bit of Maddie in it!

Love,

Elle Kay