The Fall

Chapter 2

Zoe- 2016



“Zoe, I need you to listen carefully," my mother implored as she stood before me. Her lip bore the remnants of a recent injury, though it had already healed; dried blood clung to her skin, and I noticed the same crimson streaking her hairline. Her panicked tone and the sight of her disheveled appearance didn't surprise me. My mother has always been prone to hysteria, with dilated pupils and a complexion marred by scabs. She looked like a junkie because she was one.

"Where is Dad?" I ask, my eyes shifting from the floor to the door, then back to her. It was evident that she was under the influence, but I couldn't discern which substance was responsible. To be honest, I doubted she knew either. f*****g fates. I swear to the goddess.

"Mom, I think you should lie down," I suggested.

“No.” She shrieks. “I need you to listen.” Her thin fingers wring into the flesh of my upper arms, she squeezes me, sinking her bitten-down nails into my skin.

“We are getting out of the Falls tonight. You need to convince your sister to come home.” I nearly laugh at that. Then I wonder, what did my mom do now, what warrants her current fear?

"She won't leave Kamden," I replied dismissively. Picking up towels and shoes scattered across the floor

“You have to convince her.” She was shaking me now, and I couldn't help but notice the alarming state of her overall appearance—her emaciated frame, chapped lips, and hollow eyes. She looked terrible, a stark contrast to the woman she had been when my parents first met. Fated mates were supposedly the best thing in the world, but looking at her, I felt nothing but disgust. I haven’t really looked at her in years. We were kicked out of our pack when we were 6, chased out of the first town we relocated to at 9, again at 12, and the next at 15. We had only been in Aurora Falls for two years. Usually, it took 3 years to warrant fleeing in the middle of the night. New record mom.

My mom always owed somebody something, she stole, cheated, or lied her way through life. My dad staying loyal through everything.

“We will be 18 in less than 2 months, she won’t leave him.” I am steadfast in that knowledge. When we moved here and the two of them met, it was explosive. He is the alpha in waiting of the pack here. They are inseparable and although wolves don’t surface till 18, along with powers, bonds, and rankings. They believe they are fated mates, drawn together by the goddess herself. There is no way Ava would leave Kamden before her 18th birthday, if ever.

I had my own boyfriend, it's funny that I didn’t think about him. When I thought about leaving Aurora Falls, I thought about my sister first, her boyfriend, my dad, then what my mom had done, then work, then school, then our small trailer, and finally my boyfriend. Johnnie is a human. I prefer that, I don’t want or need the fates saddling me with a shitshow.

I see it every day, my poor father anchored to my mom. She is just dragging him down; drowning him beneath the surface. He has spent his life trying to save them both, but I wondered how much longer this can continue. I wonder what kind of life he has with her, he can’t possibly be happy. If this is fate, I wanted no part of it.

“Maybe...” My mother trailed off as she stumbled to her feet, her shoulder slamming into a wall as she fights against warped gravity and vertigo caused by whatever she was on. The fight ends a few feet down the hall when her body slides down the wall, her limbs awkwardly folding over themselves as she collapses near lifeless a few feet from her room. I gaze down at her with a mix of revulsion and contempt, then hear my father's truck pulling into the driveway.

I am sure he has insight into her current paranoia. He will know if there is any validity to it. I head to the porch and look through the screen door. My father is slumped over the steering wheel. I can’t see his face but he doesn’t move. Then there is a tremble in his shoulders and I wonder if he is crying. My father doesn’t cry, not that I have seen at least. I look away and give him a moment. I pace to the kitchen, turning on the oven to preheat it. I had made stuffed shells when I came home from school but wasn’t ready to bake them. I have work at 8, a closing shift so I planned to bake them closer when I had to leave after my Dad got home. I stand there in the kitchen waiting for him, but he doesn’t come in. I put the shells in, wash a few dishes, straighten the living room, and then look outside again, he is still in his truck but slumped against the driver’s side window. Panic floods my system and I bolt outside, I am at his side in seconds.

His body is covered in dried blood, his clothes torn and tattered. Parts of his face are still swollen. Wolves heal fast unless there is a lot to recover from, he nearly falls from the cab of the truck when I open the door but I slide in to catch him and push his body back into the seat.

“Dad.” I shake him and he groans. “What happened?” I asked. Trying to cool the inferno raging inside of me. Mom happened. Whatever she did, is what caused this. “Dad, let's get you inside so you can rest. Do you need a clinic?” He groans but shakes his head, indicating he doesn't need medical attention.

His body is pulverized, his flesh covered in blood, swollen and purple. His face doubled in size along the left side, his eye swollen shut. He hisses and groans as I wrap my arm around his waist, draping his arm across my shoulders. I hold him tight against me as I carry him inside, practically dragging him along. With each step we take he winces. I can feel the tears form in my eyes. I hate my mother, I hate her addiction, and I hate that my dad is bound by fate and can’t leave her. That no matter what she does, no matter what happens because of her, he loves her and still tries to f*****g fix her.

I slump him in bed next to her. I make him some healing tea and grab several ice packs. I grab a bucket of warm water, a washcloth and slowly, very gently wipe the blood from his body.

I hate that this isn’t commonplace, although this is the worst that I have ever seen him. The events of the past hour are not uncommon. My father beaten, my mother strung out, and me caring for both of them in different ways and my sister never here to help.

We graduate in two weeks, technically we only have seven full days of school left. Finals have already been taken, grades are already secured. The pack kids probably won’t even show up for the remaining days left. After that another five weeks until we turn 18. Past that another two weeks before I start college.

My dad is the only person I have told about school. He had been ecstatic when I shared the news and proud too. Guilt gnawed at me though. Who would take care of them when I left? But he insisted, urged, and has been giving me cash since the fall to add to my savings for school. A twenty here, five dollars there. Every little bit helps. I have a full ride, including my meal plan, room and board. My grant would eventually come back as a refund check and afford me cash for supplies and books. But I wanted to be able to start anew, buy bedding, decorate my room, and not have to rely on that refund check. So, I have been working and saving since I was 16. Three thousand, six hundred dollars might not seem like a lot. But for a banished wolf who lives in a trailer with a meth head for a mother, who knows hunger and worn soles better than any other comfort of life. It is everything to me. College will be a fresh start for me.

The alarm for the shells goes off, and neither of my parents move at the sound. I pull them out and scribble a note down and put it on top of the tin foil.

Put in the fridge when cooled. Work till 3. Love you. -Z

I work at the drive-in on Friday and Saturday nights during the warmer months. I enjoy concessions and don't mind working at the gate to check tickets. However, I dread ushering duty more than anything else. Our town is home to a large wolf pack, and they often feel entitled to do whatever they please. I endure catcalls while cleaning up after them and enforcing the drive-in's rules:

"No alcohol, no modified stereo systems, no fireworks, no firearms, no grills, please drive slow, please don’t litter, no drugs, no fighting, no smoking, turn off your lights."

Wolves don’t follow rules and they break each and every one of those almost every night.

As I tossed my bag into my locker and donned a black half-apron, I let out an audible groan when my boss, Craig, spoke up. "Zo, you're ushering on screen 1 with Brent, Jim, and Johnnie." I smiled at the mention of Johnnie's name. If I had to do a job I hated, having Johnnie there made it more bearable.

Luckily screen 1 is playing the PG-13 movies and not the R. It's the family side. After ushering cars into spots and gently reminding people to turn off their headlights. I look around for Johnnie. I haven’t seen him yet tonight. The biggest concern on this side of the field is keeping kids safe. They run all around during the film and then between movies, since it's a double feature, a lot of cars will leave after the first film. I do my best to return any lost kids and make sure none leave the property.

My attention had been drawn to a young girl catching fireflies, her fascination with the glowing insects completely consuming her. She had strayed quite far from her car, and I couldn't help but worry. The area she was headed toward was known for attracting teenagers looking to drink, make out, and stir up trouble. I couldn't let her stumble upon something unsavory, so I kept a vigilant eye on her.

As she approached the treeline, I decided it was time to intervene and redirect her.

I had closed the gap to within about ten feet of the young girl when her mother suddenly appeared behind me. "Heidi, come here, honey," she called out, and the little girl with her blonde pigtails immediately darted past me. I couldn't help but smile as she scampered past, relieved that her mother was there to watch over her.

“Ohhh Johnnie.” I hear. A woman’s cry of pleasure. My ears perk up. Johnnie? I look into the trees and see movement further down, I tip-toe toward it. A girl is pinned against a tree and the silhouette of a familiar body is jerking into her, hiding her frame. It is dark but my night vision has improved. All I can see is his bare ass, his pants at his ankles, his white ass clenching as he groans and finishes inside the girl. Based on sound alone, I know it is him.

“f**k Johnnie, you make me feel so good.” I hear the overly sweet falseness of my sister’s voice and freeze. I wonder if Johnnie knows it's her or does he think it's me? Wouldn’t be the first time my sister, my twin, took something that belonged to me. She finds it an amusing game to see if my friends and boyfriends can tell us apart. I have also dated a jerk once who wanted to sample both sisters, so he pursued her while we were dating. She delighted in that.

I watch from behind a tree as he leans down to whisper something in her ear, hastily pulling up his pants. She responds with a giggle and says, "Let's get back to work. You go first." My stomach churns with a mix of emotions as I step behind the tree, spying on them from the side. She is wearing one of my white work shirts, a denim skirt that she is hastily adjusting, and white flip-flops. Apart from the work shirt and her messy bun, we didn't look much alike—I would never wear a skirt that short. She headed toward screen 2, and my anger flared like a blazing fire.

I stood there, torn between conflicting emotions, unsure of what to do. One part of me yearned to confront Johnnie, to unleash my anger and punch him in the nose. But another part of me realized that this wasn't entirely his fault. How could it not be, though? He knew I was a virgin, and the thought of me engaging in such an intimate act outdoors, against a tree, was completely out of character. And then it hit me—it probably wasn't the first time this has happened. My sister, who lives with the alpha-in-waiting, who claims they are fated mates, is cheating on him with my boyfriend. For what? Simply because she could. Because she thrived on tearing me down.

A wave of nausea washes over me, and I find myself grappling with conflicting desires. Do I rush home and cry? Do I track down my sister and unleash my fury on her? But as I thought about it more, a numbing sensation washed over me. I was fed up with her, her mind games, her deceit, her lies. The anger, though still present, is slowly being replaced by a growing sense of detachment. I am leaving this place, these people, her.

It was around an hour into the second feature when I spotted police lights at the entrance. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence; fights broke out here at least once a month. The police had the good sense to approach without sirens and with their lights off if it wasn't a pressing emergency. However, the alternating red and blue flashes piqued my curiosity, and I decided to head toward the gates.

Craig, who rarely left his office, was nodding at the deputy when I arrived. His face was flushed, and he bore an expression I had never seen on him before. But when he noticed me, that expression quickly shifted to one I knew all too well: pity.