K A Y L A
Being at the Black Moon Pack once again always filled me with anxiety. It’s been the source of my trauma, pain and suffering for the last 17, almost 18 years of my life… Everyone here looked on when I was being abused and only a handful of people stepped in to help me whenever I was in trouble. Now… they’re all scared of me… And I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that either. I’m glad the bullying and torment have stopped, but that won’t stop them from looking at me as if I’m some sort of freak…
Something’s different about the house though and I can’t quite place my finger on it. The air feels heavier for some reason, and I feel like I’m being watched everywhere I turn. There’s a pit in my stomach and anxiety courses through my body. But there is nothing in particular that
