What little bit of normalicy Loke had found, seemed to run screaming into the night. The bag was pulled out of the backseat of her car, as she headed toward the front doors of the pack house. Even with the moon reaching her swell some time in the next few days she felt sick, afraid, terribly afraid. A year spent running away from the things that haunted her, now had her coming face to face with some of those nightmares.
Openning the door, she closed it softly as to not to disturb anyone. It was semi late and she hoped no one would wake up. Flip flops where taken off at the door and her keys dropped near the door on the table in case someone would need to move her car in the morning or not. Barefeet carried her upstairs toward the room she borrowed with Malcolm.
The door thank goodness was not attempting to blurt out her instrusion, it simply swong open soundlessly. Bag was set on the floor near the bed, a glance to Malcolm soundlessly asleep in his bed before she exited the bedroom. Heading toward the bathroom, she closed herself in and turned on the shower. Fingers braced on the wall, the water was hot enough to peel the skin off her arms and back but she didn't seem to notice. Under the cover of the sounds of the shower she found herself on her knees directly over the drain. Stomach turned and she retched up water, and bile. God must really hate her, or who ever is watching from above, to subject her to yet another person that seemed to grow out of her nightmares. Why? Why did they always come true? It wasn't until the hot water, had nearly run cold that she realized she had been in the shower for over two hours.