WILLOW
There’s no flashy announcement; no grand prelude before you die. Everything just goes static. White noise fills your head.
The people screaming in your face feel like supporting actors in a bad play. There’s actually a sense of peace— a peace so euphoric— right before you go under.
***
I don’t know how much time passes. Hours? Days? Weeks?
I dream a lot; about wolfsbane. About the moon goddess. My father, holding me up as a child, walking me through a lovely garden. I even dream about Aiden. In my dreams, he’s ruining laps around me, and every single time, he’s in his wolf form. Huge white furs, with the reddest eyes I’ve ever seen.
I wake up to the sound of yelling. Loud arguments, happening in front of me. My eyes open slowly and the ceiling is so bright, it hurts.
I gro
