Butterfly Catcher (Closed)
It was Saturday, fall (autumn, she reminded herself), and October. Anna had turned eighteen, had her first hunt, seen the division of the pack, and many other things. By all accounts, she had been through more than she figured she had any right to, but it took her a moment to figure out that one thing was missing amidst it all.
The last major one had been...Three months ago, she realized. At the horrible 4th of July party. The tornado still stood crystal clear in her mind, as did the subsequent events of the day. Anna had been so distracted, though, with what had happened in the aftermath of the incident that he hadn't turned a thought inward and realized that not once had she had anything as traumatic and explosive as that one vision.
Not even little tiny ones, not really. As she sat on the edge of her bad, Anna looked at her hands. She didn't feel any different. Anna got up, walked to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. She didn't look any different (except for her hair, of which the remnants of a red dye job still remained). When she showered, it was hard not to check her whole body to make sure she hadn't changed in some other way.
Breakfast was unusually melancholy. Dad had made juevos y chorizo, normally one of Anna's preferred items, but she hadn't said a word. Not that she usually spoke much, but even her parents picked up on her unusual silence.
"Huh?" She looked up from the mostly-full plate of food, the fork balanced awkwardly between her fingers.
"You've barely touched your food." Her mother tilted her head. It must have been bad if even her mom noticed.
"Oh, I guess I'm just not hungry." Anna tried to force a smile and take a bite just to please her parents. It was just as good as always, but it tasted just a little bit off.
Maybe something was wrong with her.
The rest of the meal passed with relative silence. Anna's parents knew better than to push the issue, and there was no way she was ready to tell them about her problem just yet. Later, she thought, she might head to the library - try to figure something out.
Because even if she had always regarded her gift as a sort of curse, she couldn't help but feel like a piece of her was missing.
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