33

2523 Words

My heart has been continuously beating at his own pace.  When I think of dad.  The pack.  Blake, my heart hammers so hard, I can literally see it, moving up and down, fast.  And when I try to calm myself down with encouraging words in my mind, it doesn’t help.  I try to take deep breaths but it feels like I’m breathing through a small whistle.  Mom started to get irritated with me, saying that I should stop moping around and do nothing and that menstruation is part of life and part of being a woman.  I shrugged it off and busied myself with washing clothes. It isn't that the pack wouldn’t find out what I did.  I even find myself shaking and each time my mom appears I try to be out of her sight. I hated feeling just like a fragile puddle of stress and depression.  Everything I did to keep m

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