It's Our Last Chance to Feel Again

As I tiptoed down the hallway, I silently thanked my mother for signing me up for ballet classes which I had hated and quitted after just three months, but had given me a mediocre sense of balance in return. And of course, I thanked the heavens for making Uncle Jack a deep sleeper.

Quietly opening the door and then cursing its rusty hinges for squeaking, I stepped out into the chilly morning air. It wasn't that I was disobeying Uncle Jack and Jacob- I just had to get out of the house before I slowly went insane. Spending three days in the same boring house with the knowledge that there was a chance the only guy who had ever seen me as more than a friend (to my knowledge, at least) could die the next day was putting my mind through too much torment, and I feared that I would soon lose it.

I closed the door behind me as silently as the rusty hinges would allow, and smiled as I took in a deep breath of the salty air of freedom.

The air was chilly from the lack of warmth the sunlight provided during the day, but I paid it no mind. I kept my thoughts on the beautiful beach. And Jacob, of course. God forbid my mind ever stop thinking about Jacob.

I had tried, unsuccessfully, on many occasions throughout the past three days to forget about him. But with the beach in clear view from the window in my room, the image of Jacob holding me while I broke down kept popping to mind. It had been torturous, keeping the mental image of us in my mind and having the little voice remind me that I may never experience the happiness I had seen the imprints enjoy during the get-together a few nights back.

As with my previous impulsive decision to look for Jacob, my impulsive decision to sneak out of the house had left me barefooted once again. However, this time, it was with good reason. I had left the house simply for a walk along the beach, and so I hadn't expected to walk on anything rough.

However, instead of coming into contact with the soft sand, I felt the rough edges of the pavement beneath my feet and frowned. I had obviously been paying little attention to where I was going, and instead of taking a stroll to keep what was left of my sanity along the beach, I had ended up walking purposefully to a destination I still wasn't aware of.

I didn't stop myself, though. I let myself continue on, which I knew was a terrible decision. I was horrible with directions, and if I was able to get lost in the place I had spent the past sixteen years familiarising myself with, I was sure as hell prone to getting lost in a place I barely knew.

I kept walking, welcoming the stinging pricks on my feet. It wasn't because I was gradually becoming a psycho who enjoyed feeling pain. It was nothing like that. It was just that putting myself through the physical agony helped to numb the emotional distress my mind was putting my poor heart through.

I had gone through the many possible outcomes of the next day, and most of them had ended horribly. It wasn't so much me being a pessimist. It was more because I had to prepare myself for the worst, should the worst happen.

I didn't want to imagine myself without Jacob. I didn't want to imagine anything without Jacob. I wanted him by my side. I wanted him in this world. I wanted him alive.

But I knew better than to hope. If I had learnt anything throughout my short sixteen years of living, it was that hope gave room for disappointment, and I didn't want to build that space for my heart to break because someone else had left me.

My feet began picking up its pace, and within minutes, I found myself in front of a house whose owner I didn't even know. Even though my brain was yelling at me to turn back around and find my long way home, I found myself lifting my arms and knocking on the door.

After three knocks, I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

No one came, which my brain took as a sign. However, my arms once again defied the logic my brain had so politely provided and irrationally began pounding on the hard door.

By the time the door was swung open, my knuckles were pulsing and completely red. A pained tear left my eye, and as I reached up to brush it aside, I found my fingers coming into contact with more tears. It took me a while to realise that I had been crying way before my knuckles had begun hurting.

"Kat?" A male, who sounded very concerned and sleepy, asked, and even though my sight was blurred by the tears that had welled up on my bottom eyelid, I recognised the voice.

Throwing myself forward and into a hug, I whimpered, "Dad."

---

It happened as a vague blur, but I knew it took a lot of time for my father to extricate himself from my iron grip, wrap me up in a warm blanket and calm me down enough so that I wasn't hyperventilating. I was stubborn even when unaware.

"Do you want to tell me why you're here at this time?" My father asked kindly, and I wrapped the blanket around myself tighter.

"I um... I had to sneak out," I said, knowing it didn't answer my father's question, but provided an answer for him nonetheless.

Even though I had kept my gaze on the floor, I knew that my father had looked at me curiously. "I thought Jacob had you under lockdown."

"He did. He does. But I had to sneak out," I repeated, finding comfort in the little pattern I had created for myself.

It was silent for a while, and though I welcomed it, my father obviously found it awkward because he said, "Jack's going to be pissed. Not to mention Jacob."

I nodded, acknowledging him before once again repeating, "I had to sneak out."

"I know. Which is why I'm letting you sit on my couch, and not dragging you back to Jack's house or calling him to let him know where you are," My father explained, and that seemed to do the trick for me because I suddenly found myself opening up.

"I'm scared. I don't know what'll happen tomorrow, and it scares me. I don't want to lose him. Not like this. Not before he knows. He needs to know. He needs to know I know. And... I don't... I can't let him go," I sobbed, even though the tears were dried, and none were threatening to spill.

"Of course you are, Kat. We all are. None of us don't want the pack to go tomorrow. None of us want the pack to lose. But Sam's the alpha, and he knows what's best not just for the pack, but for the rest of La Push. It's times like these where you have to put the greater mass ahead of your own feelings," He replied, and even though he had said it gently, it slapped me right across the face.

"So I'm being selfish?!" I half screamed, tired of bottling up the panic I was feeling.

My father didn't seem taken aback, but instead calmly answered, "No, that's not what I meant. You have every right to be afraid. Every right to not want Jacob there tomorrow. But at this point in time, it's too late, and there's nothing you can do. Jacob, and every other pack member for that matter, knows what he has to do, and what's expected of him. They aren't just wolves because it's convenient, Kat. They're wolves because their ancestor is Taha Aki, because they were chosen amongst the others, because they have to protect everyone else from the vampires- or the Cold Ones.

"And that's exactly what they're doing tomorrow. You have to accept it, Kat. I'm sorry to say this, but there really is nothing you can do."

I frowned and, for the first time since I had so inconsiderately knocked on his door, looked directly into my father's eyes. "But I want to do something. I have to do something."

His lips remained sealed no matter how hard I stared. The silence annoyed me and so I pressed on, "How did it feel? When you lost Julia, I mean."

"It...," My father started, before pausing to swallow, and then continuing on, "I didn't want to believe it at first. I didn't want to believe she was really gone. But I had to force that fact on myself in order to explain what had happened to Old Quil. And when it finally sunk in, I just felt... Dead.

"I mean, I knew I was still alive. I could feel my heart pumping, I could feel my empty stomach beg for food, could feel the weariness from having deprived myself of sleep. But it felt superficial, because I couldn't feel anything else. My heart was beating, but it was only pumping blood. My stomach was churning, but only because it needed food. My eyes were aching, but only because I had kept them open for so long.

"There wasn't any purpose, you know? Everything was just doing what it did because it had to. Not because it wanted to. And then I got angry. Angry at Julia for not following me. Angry at myself for not noticing it earlier. Angry at the stupid vampires for killing my Julia. And it kept building up, and became this huge pile of shit that I managed to live with for two years.

"Then I had to leave you and... Shit, that was hard. You were only two, and... Did you know you said 'daddy' first? I was your first word. Every dad's dream, and I had to leave you behind. I wanted you to know about me, but I couldn't do anything. Not if I wanted you safe.

"I know you think I don't know how you feel, and I know I probably don't. But I do know that sometimes, you have to face the helplessness to keep the people you love safe. I wanted to be there for you while you went on the adventure known as school. I wanted to be there for you when you blew your big one-oh birthday candles. I wanted to be there for every fucking — I can swear because I'm an adult and you're not — moment of your life, but I couldn't.

"I mean I could bloody well have made my way back and forced myself into your life whether Jess likes it or not, but I had to keep my promise. I had to keep you safe."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to his outburst, and so I just kept quiet. I averted my gaze back to the floor, the urgent look in his eyes becoming too much for me to handle.

Instead of the awkward silence I had expected to engulf us, my father sighed and continued, "I had to resign to visiting Jess every summer to know what you were up to, to know what was going on in your life. And because you couldn't know about me, Jess had to send you away and... Well, you know that part.

"Finally though, after fourteen years, I get to see you and... I never wanted you to have to go through the whole imprinting thing. I... I promised myself I'd do anything to make sure none of the stupid werewolf shit would happen to you. But of course nothing goes according to plan. Jacob ended up imprinting on you, and you're going through so much crap right now. I want to do something to make you feel better. I need to do something to make you feel better. You called me first, Kat. Me.

"But I know I can't do anything. I shouldn't do anything because it's too late. The imprinting has already happened, and anything I say or do will just end up hurting someone in La Push or Jacob or worse, you."