Dying For You

Chapter 6

This is so soft. I don't think I've ever felt this warm and relaxed. I open my eyes to see I'm lying on the bed with a soft blanket over me. That's nice.

I want to move to safety, but I'm too tired. I don't care anymore. I can't keep living like this. I feel awful.

The woman mother moves into my field of vision. I'm too tired to even move away from her. She gets close to my face, puts her hand on my head, and lifts my head. She shows me some water and then starts making me drink it. As I take sips, she shows me something written down.

'How are you feeling?'

"Tired," I say, then start drinking water again. She nods and starts writing again, sitting down on the bed.

'We think you ate too fast and got sick. But the Doctor also told us to expect some exhaustion and illnesses. They tried to get everything out of your system but couldn't get it all.'

"All of what?" I ask. She starts to write.

'After we found you and your Dad took you to the hospital, it took weeks for the Doctor to get enough wolfsbane and silver and cyanide out of your system for you to even wake up.'

I don't understand what that means. There are so many parts of that I don't understand. The woman watches me. "I don't understand. I'm sorry." I admit, expecting her to be mad. She nods and starts writing again.

'Will you point to the words you don't understand?'

I watch her for a little while, waiting for her to show signs of lying or anger. But she just calmly watches me. I nervously point to the first word I don't understand about what she wrote. Dad.

'Dad? That's your father.'

"Oh, that man father." I nod. She starts to smile.

'He is your father, and most people call their father Dad. Just like most people call their mother, Mom, that's what you can call me. If you need anything, call me Mom, and I'll be right here for you.'

"What's a brother?" I ask. She- I guess she is Mom. Mom has a sad smile looking like she could cry.

'Your brothers that you met are my other children. They also call me Mom and my mate Dad. The fact that we are both all of your parents makes them your brothers. You can call them Reid, Eric, and Brad by their names.'

"Names?" I question. She starts crying and wiping her eyes as she tries to write. Eventually, she gives up writing, setting the things in her lap. Soon the man father- Dad, Dad walks into the room, walking toward Mom.

He is obviously talking to Mom as she cries. He looks at me as he sits down on the bed, putting his arms around Mom. I don't know what they're doing.

"What's happening to her Dad?" I ask.

He looks at me like he could cry too. He grabs the things to write from Mom's lap and scribbles.

'Mom says that you were asking about the family. And you asked what your name was.'

"What is a name?" I ask. He nods and takes a deep breath.

'It's just something we call ourselves, and others can call us. A label to go by. Your name is Laila. Like my name is Dad, and her name is Mom. You're Laila.'

Laila. Something about that feels right. It feels like I was missing a piece that I didn't even know I was missing, but now I'm not. "Laila," I whisper to myself. Mom suddenly moves from Dad and wraps her arms around me, nodding. "What are you doing?" I ask. Dad starts writing.

'She is hugging you. You don't have to be scared; we would never hurt you.'

"Why would I believe that?" I scoff. Mom lets go of me and wipes her eyes as Dad starts writing very fast. He looks at me with a sad smile and then shows me.

'We love you so much. I don't expect you to remember this, but when you were a very little girl, some evil men took you away from us. We looked for you for years but were never able to find you. But one day, the pack happened to stumble across a hideout, and that's where we found you. I don't know exactly what those evil men did, but I can guess. You don't have to worry about them ever again. I promise they cannot get to you. You are never going back there.'

For some weird reason, tears start to pool in my eyes. I want to believe them so badly. I want to be done with this and think I can move on, but what if this is just some new test? What if they're still messing with me? It wouldn't be the first time the hunters gave me false hope. I don't know what to do, but I'm too tired to keep fighting. Whatever happens, will happen, and I'm not going to fight it. Mom and Dad must have seen my tears because they hug me and put their arms around me. It's oddly calming.

Soon I pull away from them, not giving them an extended opportunity to hurt me. They stop doing the hugging and scoot away from them a little bit on the bed. Why did I just let them do that? I don't actually believe them. Maybe playing along will keep them from getting mad. Dad starts writing.

'How are you feeling?'

"Fine." I shrug. He nods and puts a hand up in a fist but sticks his thumb in the air before putting his hand back down to his lap. Mom puts her hand on top of his, tapping him as they talk. I wonder what they are saying. Dad nods, then stands up. He leaves the room as Mom looks at me while wiping her cheeks with a smile.

Dad walks back into the room with a book in his hand. So, this is an intelligence test. Ok, I can do that. I've been reading so they know that I'm still able to, why would they now want to test me officially? He sits back down on the bed and opens the book. I look at Mom to see her writing. She shows me when she is done.

'This is a photo album from when you were a little girl. We wanted to show you some photos of yourself when you were a little girl.'

I nod, and Dad opens the photo album and starts looking through it. He points to something and then shows it to Mom. She nods, then starts writing. Once she is done, he turns the book around so I can see what he is pointing to. It's a picture. It looks like it's from a long time ago. The photo was of Dad and Mom when they were younger, holding something in a blanket; it looks small. I look at what Mom wrote.

'This is a photo from the hospital right after you were born. That's you as a baby in the blanket. You were our little bundle of joy.'

"That weird-looking thing is me?" I question, pointing to the photo. They both smile and nod. "That's not me. I'm me." I shake my head.

Mom looks at Dad and starts talking. He flips through pages while she writes. He shows her something, shakes her head, and then starts moving her hands, gesturing while talking to him. He nods and starts turning pages again. He points to something, and she nods. They both let me see. Dad shows me a picture of a younger version of him holding a small girl. I look at what Mom has written.

'This is you about a week before you were taken from us. You can tell because you still look like that little girl.'

Dad takes the picture out of the book and hands it to me. I look at it for a second to see the little girl with short dark hair, a pink shirt, and a big smile as she hugs Dad. Mom stands up from the bed and motions for me to get up. I shoot to the edge of the bed and stand up, obeying what they want. She grabs my hand gently and starts leading me into the bathroom. She stops just inside the door. She puts her hands on my shoulders, making me face the sink. She points to the shiny thing behind the sink and shows everything backward. Dad shows me a piece of paper.

'Look in the mirror, and you can see your reflection so you can see the similarities between you and the little girl you used to be in those pictures. You've always had a smile that would light up the room.'

Mom holds up the photo to the mirror and points to my eyes in the thing Dad called a reflection. Then she moves her finger so she is now pointing at the eyes of the little girl in the photo. They are bright blue: mine and the little girls. My hair is dark, really dark, almost black. The little girl in the picture has darker skin than me, though. She looks happy and full of life…. I just look… half dead. There is no way we are the same person. But something in my gut just says that we are the same.

Mom then points to the little girl's nose then she points to my nose in the reflection. Then she looks at me, gently poking my real nose with a smile. Dad shows me more words he wrote down.

'You've always been our beautiful little girl, and we were devastated when we lost you. We could not be more ecstatic and relieved that you are back with us, alive.'

Mom and Dad both do that hugging thing, putting their arms around me. Eventually, Dad lets go and starts writing again as Mom continues doing the hugging. Dad shows me what he wrote.

'We have to go soon. There is an event that the whole pack has to be at. Now that you're awake, we would love it if you would come with us if you're feeling up to it. There will be food.'

"I'm hungry," I nod. I want to eat. I feel like I haven't eaten in so long. "I want to eat." I nod.

Dad starts writing again as Mom acts like she is talking to him. He shows me when he is done.

'Mom can find some clothes for you to wear while you take a shower to clean up, then she can help get you ready. Is that ok?'

"As long as I can eat, then yes." I nod. They both leave me in the bathroom so I can use the thing called a shower. It turns out it's like the bathtub but moving and standing instead of laying.

Soon I am done with the shower and dry off before walking back to the bedroom. There are some clothes folded on the bed with a note on top.

'Get dressed when you are done; you can open the bedroom door where I am waiting to help you with your hair.'

I do as the note says and get dressed, then open the door where Mom is waiting in the hall. She has some things with her. She pulls me over to the bed and sits me down on it. She hands me a note and then puts everything she is holding down next to me.

'This is a hairbrush. I'm going to use it to brush your hair to get the tangles out and make it look pretty.'

I look up at her to see her showing me an object and then running it through her hair, showing me what she is going to do. I nod, and then she moves behind me. I can't help but get nervous. I hate this. I can't see what she is going to do. Is she going to hurt me? I feel like I can't breathe.

I feel something on me. It moves down my back. Then leaves. Before I can relax, it's back a little higher up, then moves down my back again.

This happens over and over again, working its way to the top of my head. It doesn't hurt. I'm starting to get used to it. It's actually getting kind of relaxing. Mom continues to slowly mess with my hair until I am relaxed. Mom stops for a moment, and I feel movement on the bed. I turn to look and see her reaching for her pile of stuff. She picks up a couple of written things and sorts through them. She hands me one of them to read.

'Your hair is so pretty.'

Aww, that was nice of her. I can't help but smile at her kind words. She goes back to messing with my hair. After a while, she stops again. She gives me another piece of paper for me to read.

'This is a hairdryer. I'm going to use it to get the water out of your hair.'

I turn to look at her to see that she's moved. She is now standing in front of me. I look up at her to see her holding a small machine and putting it to her head; it's kind of shaped like a gun. No, I don't like that. She isn't doing that to me. She's trying to kill me! No. I shake my head and start backing away from her. She holds out her hand to me. No, I don't want to take it. I don't want to. I feel tears start to fall as she takes a step closer to me. She puts the deadly machine down and moves towards me. She does the hugging thing, putting my head against her shoulder as I cry. I was starting to believe her; why does she want to hurt me?

I feel something warm on my arm and look to see her pointing the machine at my arm. It doesn't hurt, though. It's just warm.

"Mom, what is this?" I cry. She grabs something and starts writing.

'It's just air. It doesn't hurt. If it's too warm, I can cool it off. But it will not hurt you.'

"It won't hurt?" I ask while wiping my eyes. Mom takes my hand and starts blowing air on it, just holding it there for a moment. She's right; it doesn't hurt. Once I calm down, Mom moves the thing to the ends of my hair and then slowly up to my head. It's not as scary as I thought. It's actually nice; it makes me warm, which is nice.

Soon my hair is dry, and Mom is just looking at me with tears in her eyes. She writes something down and hands it to me for me to read as she does the hugging thing again.

'I'm so glad you're back. I never thought this day would come, but I'm so proud you are back. I love you with all my heart.'

She pulls me up from the bed, so I'm standing. She hands me one more thing written thats was on the bed.

'If you are ready to go, we can go downstairs to meet the pack and eat. Please don't panic or be scared. Your Dad, your brothers, and I will be by your side the whole time. We've missed most of the part where we will have to socialize with others, so we will pretty much only be there for the food. Try not to eat too fast this time, and if you get nervous or scared, please talk to Dad or me.'

"I'm hungry." I nod. She smiles, puts her arm around mine, and leads me by the elbow. Dad and the men brothers are standing around where we ate yesterday. They are talking to each other. I wish I could hear what they were saying. I feel like I'm getting ¼ of the story.

Soon Mom is leading me and everyone away out into a large wooden hallway. I don't know what's going on. I thought we were eating. I want to eat. I'm hungry; where are we going?

They continue leading me down a few more hallways until it opens to a large room. Huge. It's packed full of people. They're all so big and tall. I can't even see to the other side of the room because of how many people there are. I've never seen so many people. I have never seen so many people.

Mom and Dad lead me over to a table where plates are on it but no food. I guess they are going to get me food. My oldest man brother, Reid, stands next to me, and Mom motions for me to sit down. Reid squats in front of me so he is at eye level. He reaches out, grabbing the empty cup in front of my chair. He is talking, but I can't figure out what he is saying. He holds the cup up for me to see, then points to himself, then behind him. I don't know what that means. He stands up and puts his hand on my shoulder. Instinctively I look at his hand on my shoulder.

I look up just a little to see a man on the other end of the table looking furious. He suddenly jumps on the table and runs straight at me. What's going on?

The man charges at me. When he gets to me, he jumps off the table, picking me up, and doing the hugging when I feel his chest vibrating. I don't like this- what's happening? What's going on? I feel hands on me, pulling me away. Suddenly, I'm turned around and facing the crowd of people as Mom reaches out to grab me. I do the one thing that makes sense to me.

Run.