“Oh, I hope you can hear me, ‘cause I remember it clearly. The day you slipped away. Was the day I found it won’t be the same.“–“Slipped Away by Avril Lavigne
Kiya
“Come on, Hali! We’re going to be late for the party!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming! It’s not my fault this wing is crooked!”
One swig and my throat burn from the crimson liquid. Housed in a black bottle, the pungent taste of alcohol overrode the sweetness of the wine, Port wine. The only alcohol I drank as a loser slumped against one of the many redwood trees in the forest.
“Your wing looks fine! As long as you don’t move it too much, it’ll be okay!”
“Easy for you to say. Your wings look perfect.”
Goddess, why am I doing this? Werewolves have a high alcohol tolerance that makes them unable to get drunk easily. We burn it off faster than humans. It takes a lot to get our kind intoxicated; probably twice or three times as much as a normal human. Either way, this supposed highlight of our abilities is proven to be a curse
to me.
“Me, as the Sun Fairy, always has to look perfect! It’s in our nature.”
“I’m the Moon Fairy and I can’t look like a mess! What would the other kids think?”
Ah, the Moon Fairy. The being I’ve dressed as for this accursed holiday called Halloween. Dressed in a white and blue sleeveless dress with shredded hems, the shimmering sequins danced to their silent tune under the moonlight. A full moon on Halloween is rare, so I’ve heard. Legend says that on Halloween, it weakens the veils to the worlds beyond mortals. It gives a chance for other–world creatures to pass through and mingle in the world of mortality for a night before retreating.
Amusing.
“The other kids would think we look amazing! Like twins!!
“At least they can tell us apart.”
Another swig. Two. Three. I hate remembering what used to be. The better days of my life before it turned into a dumpster fire my old pack willfully created. Days of happiness, freedom, warmth, and friendship. Days where I felt invincible; none of the world’s ills could touch me.
Oh, how was I wrong. So fucking wrong.
Waiting for the alcoholic buzz is a killer. The desperation for the effects of alcohol shows as I continuously bring the bottle rim to my lips every thirty seconds. This sinful liquid is supposed to be a depressant, so why isn’t it depressing? Depress these emotions and these fucking memories.
you remember your line?”
it a thousand
1/4
Memones of a
Stop
Sun Fairy, is here to shine
Halima the Silver Moon Fairy, is here to shine the light
Stop it!
the evil in
Fuck!
breeze ignored the pain stuffed inside them. My head pressed against the thick tree bark as my chest heaved in sobs, I thought I was strong
ready, I was never
a dead child from flooding into my mind. Memories of Nuria that I can’t ever forget, no matter how hard I try. Her body is buried miles away from me, but it’s as if
I hate it. I hate it so much.
it towards an innocent tree, glass shattering into millions of stray pieces some feet away. Breaking things
I’m more fucked up than I originally thought. No
one. My fourth one, to be exact. Sniffling, I ripped the cap open and continued chugging. Why wine? There are
by my kind. It’s also the kind that triggers a barrage of traumatic memories from a single
close to home. So, I’m left with the strongest wine available. It’s sweet and I like it. I like sweet
pirate captain’s costume. Adorned in brown, blue, and red with a sword attached to his hip, Anthony glared
bottle to block out my traitorous
her first mate’s costume with a noticeably pregnant belly. My heart softened at the growth of my niece inside the womb. I can’t wait to meet the bundle
Special – Memories of a Friend (Part 1)
I shouted, my hands
wine were missing. Lead Omega Cleo was worried
haze, but my brother held it high. above his head, using his insane height as his advantage. Fucking tall people. “No,
back. “I need it! You wouldn’t understand!”
that you had enough,” Alesia said next to my ear, bringing my hands down to my sides. “There’s no such thing as a need for alcohol. What do you mean ‘we won’t understand“?”
uncomfortable roots of my tree and drew my knees to
I want to be
with empty wine bottles is no basis for me to leave her alone.” Anthony retorted with an arched eyebrow. “And you sound like you’ve been crying. You
acting brattish–it’s out of my nature. It’s stupid and ridiculous.
the pain is as fresh as if she died
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