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.

course! Do you remember your

because we’ve rehearsed it a thousand times!”

1/4

Special – Memones of

Stop

here to shine the

is here to shine the light of

Stop it!

to stop the evil in

Fuck!

as the night 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 enough to get

thought wrong. I wasn’t ready, I was never

to stop the memories of 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 her presence is that much closer to me

I hate it. I hate it so much.

grabbed an empty bottle and hurdled it towards an innocent tree, glass shattering into millions of stray pieces some feet away. Breaking things is supposedly

originally thought. No wonder

my wine before the bottle had nothing left to give. Luckily, I had another one. My fourth one, to be exact. Sniffling, I ripped the cap open and continued chugging. Why wine? There are stronger options in the kitchen; options that

also the kind that triggers a barrage of traumatic memories from a single whill. The smell mixed with

too close to home. So, I’m left with the strongest wine available. It’s sweet and I like it. I like sweet things.

of my hand. Pissed, I look up to be met with the angry hazel eyes of my brother dressed in a pirate captain’s costume. Adorned in brown, blue, and red with a sword

that bottle to block

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 of joy in November. But my love for the baby quickly dissipated as the want of alcohol bombarded me like bullets.

Memories of a

my hands reaching up. “That’s

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.”

to reach the bottle of drunken haze, but my brother held it high. above his head, using his insane height as his advantage. Fucking tall people.

“I

hands down to my

roots of my tree and drew my knees to my chest.

the party. I want to

the 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 crying. You look like it too.”

are Alphas are so perceptive? Groaning, I bury my 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

her death, the pain is as fresh as

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

Comments ()

0/255