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 Vacation Time

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Posts : 1
Join date : 2012-01-30

PostSubject: Vacation Time   Wed Feb 08, 2012 3:45 am

“Too close,” I mumbled to myself while I sat at my kitchen table watching Aiden's naked form as he lay sleeping in my bed. “Too close.”

My small house was silent, which was rare seeing as it had recently been overtaken by my male counterparts. As per usual, the tiny space was clouded by smoke, made all the more apparent by the moonbeams sneaking through the corners of the drapes, slicing through the grayish fog that seemed to swirl and dance in its rays. The only other light was coming from the cherry of my cig, the orange glow becoming more vibrant with each inhale, illuminating the tip of my nose while I sat there in the dark.

The sound of Sam's snoring drew my eyes to the loft, gently lifting my hand to lightly brush over my swollen eye. He hadn’t meant to hurt me, right? No, he couldn’t have. He's all ways been rough with me. Since..well, since we were kids. Growing up on the street left him little room for compassion; if anyone understood that about Samir, it was me. I couldn't help but wonder where he got that Noah shit from; talk about a silly cover name. I know he picked the last name Wilde after the writer, but for the life of me I can't figure out where he got Noah, next to the biblical reference that is. But as sadistic as he is, I can't fathom him drawing a parallel between his smuggling of sex slaves over the border to whatever the fuck it was that Noah did. I know it has to do with a boat. A really big boat. But, I digress- my mind all ways seems to wander at night.

I sighed and sighed, and sighed again, not quiet able to shake the sickening feeling that has developed in my gut. Too much had happened. Tab, Mary, Rabs, then Tabs again- I feel like I had aged more in the past few months than I have in the entire 22 plus years prior. Things were so much easier before I knew what I was.

I long for the days when all I had to worry about was a gun or a knife or some crazy pipe wielding reject. Oh, how I long for the simple days when nights roll around and I wasn't afraid. The night now serves as a constant reminder of not only what I am, but the very beings that I have grown to hate the most. More than emos, more than rejects, more than my uncle Paulie. I long for the days when Dracula was a myth.

But then I open my eyes, and reality sets in. And I'm here, in the Gaia forsaken town, in this shit hole of a dock house. My eyes moved to the fresh hole in the wall, again the work of my brother. And come to think of it, the hole in the painting pissed me off more than my bruised face. I loved that painting, I was so proud when I got it. I actually bought it for my house. My very own house. I don't know why I liked it so much, it was really simple just a picture of a butterfly cut into thirds. But I could not take my eyes off of it when I saw it in the window of the small Gallery in Seattle where I had purchased it. I didn't even care I dropped over a grand for it, at that time money wasn't so tight as Rabs was still around. I miss Rabs.

But I was so proud of my house, so proud of my painting. And now look at it. Sure the darkness was doing it's part to hide the various pizza boxes and beer cans and dirty underwear thrown about, but I knew it was there, just lingering in the shadows. Also, I could smell it as it was rather pungent. My house was ruined, and now so was my painting. Sam was right- Life sucks, and then there is chess.

It had done nothing to deserve it's fate, really. It just hung there on the wall. I, on the other hand, let Sam's real name slip in front of his slave. So, I guess I had it coming.

I've been hanging around this place much too long. Yes, much too long.

It's at times like those I missed Nathaniel the most, really. He seemed to understand what he was, what we all were before any of us did. Sure, Nat was a street rat much like my brothers and me, but he never really acted like us. He was always more calm, collected. For the longest time I thought it was fate that had brought our young crew together. Sure, we were all victims of circumstance, each having our own sob story to rival the next. But we banded together for a time, fought against the odds, protected one another. Looking back, we acted as a pack even back then, before the first shifts. Before any of us knew what we were.

It's funny how history seemed to have repeated itself with the Aces.

But Nat was never as angry as Sam. He was always the calm one, always the one to keep the cool head. It's no wonder we got caught up on the one night he decided he didn't feel like holding up the clerk at the 7-11. But even after we all got separated, he was able to find us. I guess he was the first alpha I ever submitted to. I just never realized it until I had already given my loyalty to Rabs, which is a decision I will never regret. Nat might have kept me safe, but Rabs taught me how to keep myself safe- and for that I will be forever grateful.

But Rabs was gone now, and so was Mary. And Tabs might as well have been gone given the way she was acting, no memory and all. Blake and Mitzi seemed to be all but avoiding me. And then there was Aiden. What was I to do with him? He was getting too close. I sighed again, using one smoke to light another before stuffing the old one into the ash tray.

The feeling had come back. The urge to run, to be free. But I had so much here, I'd worked so hard to just throw it all away.

I sighed once more as I reached for my phone, thumbing at the screen till I came to a number I had not used in some time, and for all I knew the number could have been disconnected. But still, I pressed send. It rang once, and I decided this was stupid. It rang again and I decided this was a bad idea and I should probably hang up. But, before it could ring for a third time, and even though the voice on the other end was scratchy, I could still tell it was him.

“Who the fuck is this?” his gruff voice barked from the other end.

“The werewolves are in London,” I spoke in a low tone, hoping not to wake any of the sleeping members of my pack. But with those five words I had told Nat all he needed to know-who I was, and more importantly, what I wanted. It was a code we established long ago, before we even knew what we were.

“Long time. Where are you?”

“Just track my number, we both know you can.”

“Leaving within the hour.”

And with out so much as a good bye, the line went dead. And if I were to say I was surprised, it would have been a blatant lie. Even if running away wasn't an option, I could always take a vacation.
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