Purgatory

A/N: Apologies! I seem to have entirely forgot to include in the synopsis that this is a werewolf novel, sorry for all the confusion!

"If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see, you can find out first-hand what it's like to be me."

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When you look in the mirror, what do you see?

Do you see the angry red scars that litter your skin, carved from your own self-hatred, so glaringly obvious under the thin fabric of your shirt?

Do you see the hatred in your eyes, a stark contrast against the way you long to once again feel safe, loved, or at the very least, feel?

Do you see the space between your body and the mirror, and everything around you, a space too big to cover on foot, a space left abandoned, as you were left abandoned, not once, but twice?

When you reach out to touch the glass, can you feel the smoothness, against the rough jagged edges of your soul, or are you simply so shattered, you can no longer recognise what is in front of you?

I don't know, because I never look in the mirror. It's not as if I need to, people don't notice me, let alone the way I look, and even if they did, I will not 'make myself presentable' for their viewing convenience.

People are pathetic.

They're selfish and ambitious, yet they live like cattle, so easily complying with social norms and attitudes. They're selfish and they never care about anyone but themselves.

It only takes a second to change lives, to abandon wide-eyed children, to wake them up to the harsh reality of the world they live in.

"Daddy's not coming back anymore."

Five words are all it takes to teach a lesson, a lesson I refused to learn.

"Goodbye, Nick. I'll always love you."

Six words, and a gunshot were what it took to get it through my thick skull, to open my eyes to the world around me.

Love doesn't exist.

People throw out 'l love you's like spare change, a farce to appease those around them.

They say "I love you", but they truly only love themselves.

People are selfish, and think only for themselves. Marriages are destroyed, brotherhood ripped apart, naive fools left to pick up the pieces of their heart, mending it until they learn to love again.

But love doesn't exist. It exists only because people need a word stronger than infatuation, strong enough to reach something intangible, something impossible. They easily mistake a short moment of infatuation for love, reliance on family for love. Love is a word so strong it can help us reach the intangible, yet when that moment is gone and you feel nothing for the other, love is a word so strong, so easily dropped it is the only word that can break a heart.

Heartbreak. A word that only exists because people choose to believe in the impossible.

I have learnt my lesson, and I will never again believe in love.