I sit on a chair in my room and look out the window. Rain matches the mood. The same dampness in the soul. It's unpleasant and sad. Drops flowing down the wet glass, drawing a crooked path, like sharp shots to the heart, bringing severe pain. How lousy to realize that someone died because of you. I thought a lot about myself. The white wolf is mom, not me. She, at the age of eighteen, along with Jason destroyed an entire army of wolf demons. Grow and grow up to it. It's time to accept, I won't be like Katherine.

  The pain is so tearing from the inside that the...