Untouchable by Marii Solaria

Chapter 87

“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

because we’ve rehearsed it

1/4

Memones of a

brain! Stop

Golden Sun Fairy, is here to shine the light of

Silver Moon Fairy, is here to shine the

Stop it!

we’re here to stop the evil

Fuck!

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 enough to get through this night; to celebrate it with my friends. After the two Halloweens I skipped, I thought this one would

wrong. I wasn’t ready, I

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 her presence is that much

it. I hate it

millions of stray pieces some feet away. Breaking things is supposedly therapeutic, but I only fell worse. It’s

fucked up than I originally thought. No wonder I need therapy.

swigs of my wine before the bottle had nothing left to give. Luckily, I had another one. My fourth one, to be exact. Sniffling, I ripped

a special beer sought by my kind. It’s also the kind that triggers a barrage of traumatic memories from a single

single bottle of that. It hits too close to home. So, I’m left with the strongest wine available. It’s sweet and I like it. I like

hazel eyes of my brother dressed in a pirate captain’s costume. Adorned in

that bottle to block out

of my niece inside the womb. I can’t wait to meet the bundle

– Memories of a Friend

I shouted, my hands reaching up.

that this belongs to the pack kitchen cabinets. Mom was wondering why several bottles of wine were missing. Lead Omega Cleo was worried about a potential thief.” Anthony scoffed. “And if I recall correctly, fairies don’t steal.”

but my brother held it high. above his head, using his insane height as his advantage. Fucking tall

you!” I barked back. “I need

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

roots of my tree

the party. I want to

woods 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

head in my knees, hoping the couple would take a hint. I know I’m acting brattish–it’s out of my nature. It’s stupid and ridiculous. I can do better than this, but the overwhelming sensations I feel from all corners of my body are

much. Eleven years after her death, the pain is as

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255