| ONE YEAR LATER PART 1 _________________________________________________________________ Dear Hot Topic Journal… Here I sit again, pouring my heart out to you, missing my friends and those I had come to view as family so much it hurts. Three months after the accident I woke to that disturbing phone call… “Hi, baby, haven’t heard from you in a while… is everything going ok?” Who is this I had to go and ask. “It’s mom”. I couldn’t stop the tears that began because I didn’t recognize the voice. I sobbingly told her the story leaving out the part about being infected with lycanthropy – that was a detail better left for in person. That’s when her tears started. When I got off the phone I started packing my bags trying to avoid looking at Nathaniel’s sad face. “I knew you’d go eventually” he had said, “I had just hoped it would be later rather than sooner” I left the pard in Anita’s capable hands and left for the steaminess of southern Alabama. See it turns out I had just been living in New Orleans for a while, that I tended to move around quite often, but that I was born and raised in the deep south. Could’ve fooled me cause I certainly don’t sound like I’m southern except for my fondness for the word “y’all”. So here I am nine months later – still down here getting reacquainted with my former life. Very little has come back to me. My family insisted on me seeing a specialist but it doesn’t look hopeful for a full memory gain but there’s always a chance he said. I miss them all terribly, but I know talking to them would only make it hurt worse. I dream at night of furry bodies and running through the woods. For the time being I have joined the local pard but it’s not the same. I feel like an outsider. Their touch just isn’t the same; it doesn’t give me that instant peace and tranquility. My family has been very understanding of the circumstances of my amnesia, but they tip toe around me when it gets close to the full moon – I feel their unease like a great weight on my chest, but the animal in me rolls in their fear, loving the taste of it. They used to call almost everyday – I’ve still got the messages. Then it was once a week. Still I refused the calls. That’s when Nathaniel quit calling, the message from Zane said he was near depression from being refused. I locked myself in my room for two days and cried. Slowly the calls dwindled to once a month and then a couple of months ago the calls stopped altogether. It think that hurt worse than anything. So now it’s a year after this entire mess began and I thought when better to go back and get on with both lives. I told my family last night that I was going back to St.Louis. They understand and made me promise to call every week. *************** I finally arrived back in St.Louis around 11 the following evening. My apartment was just how I left it, which saddened me – it meant Nathaniel hadn’t stayed here. I unpacked and decided to get some rest before announcing my return. ______________________________________________________________________________________ PART 2 INDEX |