The Awakening:AdonisXAvery

Decisions, Decisions

(Avery)

Mother had transitioned from her violating my body, to allowing grown, disgusting, foul men, to take over her role, releasing herself of the dirty work. At this point, I had physically been out of school since the age of twelve, teachers and even the headmaster had started to notice the change in my demeanor and the bruises that my mother had carelessly placed onto parts of my body that my ridiculous private school uniform didn’t cover.

Before CPS could get involved, she withdrew me from the academy, stating that I was self-harming because of bullying and that I needed to receive private counseling, at home, away from all outside factors. Somehow, they believed that and allowed her to drag me down a path of constant violation and scraping away of my dignity. Now seventeen, the years have passed by slowly, drenched in the pain that I had to endure, and the five years have now started weighing on me, an escape was needed and that I plan to do just that.

With confidence running through my blood these last few weeks, I had started gathering the courage to run and never look back. It’s at its peak now, and I’m ready to leave, I can finally say that I am ready to leave all this trauma behind. Looking at clock, I remember the appointment she had scheduled at twelve for a new client, it’s only nine forty-five am, mother isn’t awake yet, at least I don’t think she, the house is quiet, but I’d rather not risk it. So, I begin to look for items that I might be able to bring with me, I have no idea where I’m going, I have no plan, but the confidence flowing in me says that I do, and I listen to it.

Grabbing the small amount of clothing that I have, I place them on the bed and begin to look for something to put them in, but I can’t seem to find anything. I look under the bed, the dresser, in the closet and behind and bookshelf that mother had placed in here. I still have no idea why, probably to present the idea of a good working space, or even that I am living here, striving here, which I’m not doing, obviously. Feeling flustered and upset that I can’t seem to find anything, I begin to lose hope. “I’m never getting out of here” I whisper, feeling tears forming in my eyes. Sinking on the side of the bed, I begin to sob softly, into my hands, ‘what am I doing wrong?’, I begin to think, ‘don’t I deserve to be free?’. I begin to lift my head, about to throw it backwards om the edge of the bed when something catches my eyes. The morning sun shines brightly on something stuck between two thick books on the bottom shelf, after brushing my tears away I begin to inch towards it, leaning on my heels, pushing myself forward. I reach between them and grab onto the item and pull forward.

I draw in a breath once I realize that it's a knife, a really detailed black and silver knife. It has a thick yet thin body, and a well detailed fire design on the left side, engraved within its depths. I use my finger to trace it and release a breath I didn't realize I was holding in, flipping it over, I draw back in that same breath as I read the name 'Averon', and tear up again as I think of my father.

He was such a lovely man, a lovely father. I miss him so much, he was the light of my life, my peace, my everything, right up until he was taken from me, that heavenly flame extinguished. I miss our days together, the days where we would be gone, deep within the woods, surrounded by the quiet and his never-ending knowledge of that world, that world where we would fish, camp and be content, especially without my mother. She hadn't liked the forest, the idea of bugs, sleeping in tents and eating food that smelt smokey wasn't her forte.

Now that I think of it, this knife could be of more help than I had thought, along with this knife there was also matching camping equipment, all which were located in the attic, now all I have to do is to find it.

As I stare down at the knife I gather even more courage, taking a deep breath I lay the knife on the bed and glance at the clock once again, only thirty minutes have passed. Tiptoeing, I make my way to the guest room where the entrance of the attic is, and as I enter the room, I am flooded by the many similarities between this space and the one I am supposed to call my own. I'm surprised and I don't know why, I am surprised at the confirmation that she had constructed them both to make it seem like someone resides in them, happily, and that, though bland and void of personable items, they gave off the homey vibe that the people within them didn't.

Shaking my head, I dismiss the obvious illusion and grab hold of the cord that extends from the attic entrance, and after pulling it down slowly without making any sound, I make my way up to its ladder, and low and behold I have luck by my side. I spot the bag less than a foot away in the corner on the left after poking my head up. It looks just the same as the last time he carried it on his back.

Without hesitation, I swiftly pick up the bag to bring it down the ladder, where my luck runs out because just as I take my first step down, the bag slips from my grip and falls loudly and I am left dumbfounded for a second or two. I try to tame my panic from setting in as I listen for any sounds of movement, a movement that would announce my mother awaking. There is none, and I take the opportunity to grab the bag – though heavy – and close the attic swiftly.

After making it back to the room, I reach for the pile of clothes that I had placed on the bed earlier and open the bag to begin placing the items in one after the other, quietly and with the elegance, he taught me to pack for the outdoors seven years ago, advancing into the world of escaping, where I could be free from everything.

(Adonis)

To say dinner last night was stressful would be the greatest understatement in history. After my mom finally convinced me to join the group for dinner, I had to endure my father's torturous intrusion into my love life. He tried to silently quiz me, but my brother heard every word of it and presented his fair share of comments and concerns, which my dad agreed with, why, I do not know, but he did.

"I can't help but feel that not having a mate might be your downfall," he said, concern sculpting his face.

"I know dad." And that's all I could say. I know why he's worried, with my older brother being beta and mated, people, will begin to question who's better to be the successor of our pack. In our world, an unmated Alpha successor without a mate concludes instability and lack of security, the absence makes you seem out of control and unstable.

Since mates are supposed to keep you grounded through the connection, it is expected that the Alpha has his, which I why he's pushing the issue, granted, s*x is not the only way to go about it, but it helps to dilute the stress on my end. And it seems like I'll be needing more soon because of the deadline my dad placed on me. I have one month to either find my destined mate, or choose one, it's time for my dad to step down and put me in his place and I cannot do that without a mate, and I need to find her or choose her quickly. Because there is very little time and so much to do.

Date Posted: 5/29/22

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It only improves from here, stick it out with me until we get there, yeah.? But don't we stand a good, 'Both POV' Episode, are we lovin' it?

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