My Secret, My Bully, My Mates by Miss L

She flinches back and I briefly feel bad for being so nasty to her, when she only wants to help, but I shake it off. I walk to the chair that has my dirty,

bloodstained clothes. I drop the hospital gown, not caring who sees my scars anymore. If they want to care for me they can look at me as I am, and

learn to do it without looking at me like I arn broken or with pity. I despise pity. I dress slowly , keeping every sound of pain stuffed deep in my chest. I know it’s punishing me to not ask for help, but this is howit has always been for me and they should see that too.

going to the Beta house, to my isolated room where no one bothers me or cares about what I am doing. I’m going back to having freedom and contro

without having to checkin every three seconds with someone or having people follow me and force me to do things differently without a second Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

thought or even just asking if I’m alright with the change, assuming they know what’s best for me. You think you can make me healthy? I wouldn’t

even know what that is. I seeth, on a roll now, directing all my unfiltered anger out into the hallway to the guys,

Sierra, the Alpha, Gamma and Deltas. “Il am broken beyond repair and I have been surviving that way for as long as I can remember. You heard the

doc, irreparable damage has been done. There is nothing you can fix, cause even on my worst day I still perform better than everyone in that hallway

pretending to care about me, while overlooking everything that has ever been wrong with me. I will heal myself, by myself, it just works better that

sorry Luna, I just can’t do

“Maybe somewhere everyone has a soft spot for the small, spare beta

principal

not want pity love. I don’t want love that comes from feeling bad for my situation. This is me, damaged

anymore. I turn my back on her and walk toward the treatment room door and find all of

and grief stricken. Their eyes widened at the gruesome sight of me. Even my dad had the decency to

shame. I just rolled my eyes and walked

ran all the way back to my house, pain shooting up my legs, not noticing or caring if people were staring

to the staircase leading to my former prison. I

it doesn’t fit anymore. Like clothes

packhouse is home now, but I just can ‘t be around the guys or

room and head straight for the shower to get rid of the evidence Of my self destruction. I don’t cry though,

if I am just all cried out or if the anger

is figure out how long I have been at the hospital and see if I have missed

at the packhouse. Just another thing I’m going to have to deal