Who cares for the fallen leaves
Who cares for the fallen leaves?
Prologue: Before the wind swept.
It was a regular day in La Push; light drizzles fell from the sky in a periodic fashion while the sun teased the reservation with rare hints of shine. Yet today was different.
Leah sat in the old rust colored recliner that hid in the far corner of Emily's living room, while the boys, her pack brothers, joked and watched the game. She felt gloomy, more so than usual, and she couldn't help the envious looks that she had been giving the happy family in front of her.
Today was March 8th, Sam and Leah's anniversary.
She groaned; feeling left out of the group when they began to wrestle and place bets. There was a time when she had friends to laugh with, but her old friends had moved on without her and the pack didn't like her. Although it's not totally their fault, she knows she isn't exactly friendly, or nice. She is bitter, and well aware of it.
She stood up, invisible to the group and walked outside. The cool moist air stung her, like a slap to the face, but she was too strong to acknowledge it. She sat down on the porch steps, wishing for once she wasn't the outcast, the reject, the freak. Memories of her previous life flowed openly across her deep brown eyes, and anyone who walked past would see her soul. She internally cursed at herself, Sam, the pack, her father and anyone else she could think of. She hated this life.