It is like watching a horror movie, featuring you. But you do not have control of the script, or the characters in it. You are following the script someone else has written and scripting for just you. That is what it feels like. That is how I feel like, as I stand at my window watching the Alphas of the surrounding territories entering their vehicles and leaving to their own. I stand there, with my hood up covering my face, as my hand rests on the fabric of my curtains, moving it aside so I can look out. The thing that is sharing my body now, was in control right now. I, a mere passenger. It was watching and waiting for what, I do not know. This is what it did everyday. As if surveying the area, and planning something.

I can hear footsteps approaching my door, knowing it is Alex. I hear him knock softly on my door.

"Leilani, are you awake?" I hear him say. He waits a moment, before I hear his footsteps retreat away.

I so badly wanted to answer him, so badly wanted to scream for him to help me, but my puppet master won't let me. It is in control of me right now. Mostly at night, but in the recent few days, it had taken control during the days as well. And when it isn't in control of me, I am hallucinating hurting myself and others. Blood spilling out of walls. Clawing my own throat out. Torturing Rachel as Damien watches. All bloody, all murderous. The voices surrounding me getting stronger with each passing day.

I know now that my time is very limited now. There was so much I wanted to say and do before I left this Earth. So much I didn't want to miss out on, and so little time. I needed to make sure that I wasn't too far gone before completing what I had promised myself I would do. I had given myself another week, just seven days before ending my suffering. Seven days to say my goodbyes. Seven days to say my 'I love you's to people. Seven days to live what I could. There was no more time after that. This is not some fairy tale where prince charming comes and saves the damsel in distress. Because my prince charming already saved his damsel, leaving me out in the cold.

I should hate him. I should loathe him. I should want him dead. I should want to hurt him. But I didn't. To love someone fully, you must love them enough that you want them to be happy. And my love for him runs deep that I only hope for his happiness, even if it is not with me. As much pain and suffering I have endured over the last two years, I couldn't find myself hating him. Pathetic, I know. But that is the power of love. I loved him too much, and he didn't love me enough.

Realizing I had control of myself again, I walked to my bathroom and lowered my hood to look at myself. My eyes had sunken into my face. My once grey eyes were slowly becoming darker as the days passed. My hair once luscious and thick, now stringy and thinning. My skin pearly, now ashen and grey. Dark circles around my eyes that no amount of cover-up could conceal anymore. I looked sickly, and like a shell of the woman I once was. It had been less than two weeks ago since Damien had broken me, and in that time I had deteriorated quickly. In no time at all, I had become this person looking back.

Realizing I had much to do in seven days, I walked back to my room and sat on my bed. Opening the drawer on my nightstand I pulled out the picture of my mom, dad, Alex, and I that had been taken the week before their deaths. Running my finger over their smiling faces, I smiled to myself remembering the good times we had. Setting that aside, I pulled out a pad of lined paper, and a pen. I wanted to write letters for the people I love to read after I took my life.

A/N: You will be reading the letters in a later chapter. Each will have its own "chapter". I wanted them to be long and detailed. At first I was going to include them here, but decided against it.

As I finished the letters, I folded them up and placed them into envelopes. Then I addressed them to each recipient, and sealed them. I then placed the paper, pen, and letters back into my nightstand drawer and closed it. I laid down in my bed, on top of the sheets. And tried to sleep, when I realized that since that night, I hadn't felt the pain that came when Damien mated with Rachel. Even-though, I knew they mated regularly. At least I heard them.

I wasn't sure if I should be relieved by that information or not. But I knew it was something else that was pointing towards the end of my days...

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[Unknown POV]

He's close.... I can feel him.