It was nearing lunch time but I doubt I would be able to keep any food down, this process was too stressful. I hadn't had breakfast either, but I had gone much longer without eating, it was nothing new for me.

A guard lead out the innocent pack member we were interviewing, and Maddox loudly clapped his hands together declaring, "lunch?" Everyone mumbled their agreements, tired from the tedious interviewing process, and a few minutes later the same guard came in with a platter largely stacked with sandwiches, and a pitcher of water in tow. I glanced at the food then decided I wanted to go explore my old home. 

I wanted to see the place from the perspective of a free wolf. 

Maddox would never let me walk around the pack house with all the members still here, so I excused myself to the bathroom instead. He still insisted that he come with me, but I rejected that notion. I promised him if he didn't let me go to the bathroom alone I would reject him instead. He quickly let me go. 

Harsh, I know, but I was obviously kidding. 

I don't think he was prepared for how fiery and sarcastic I would be once I got past the whole PTSD thing. The pack doctor, Wyatt, actually did diagnose me with post traumatic stress disorder, but I felt fine. I was actually starting to feel like myself again, which was weird as it had been so long. 

The guard posted outside the room also offered to escort me, but again I denied. What horrors did they think awaited me in the bathroom? Not that I actually planned on going to the bathroom, but still. For some reason I was just really compelled to see my old room. 

I ignored lingering pack members, and they ignored me. I tiptoed up the stairs and approached the door to my old room. I pushed the door open and cocked my head to the side slightly. It was somehow smaller than I remembered, if that was even possible. I stepped inside closing the door behind me. The mattress was as discolored as ever, and dried blood stained it even worse. I approached the shattered mirror slightly, trying to take in my appearance. 

I had quite obviously gained weight. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I knew I was severely underweight for some time, but I still somehow feared becoming fat. Maddox would surely hate it. I still had two casts on, but they would be off in a few days. I lifted my shirt slightly and looked at the fading bruises and scars. My fingers ran over a particularly bad bruise and I winced slightly.

Not paying attention, I jumped at the sound of the door opening back up. I dropped my shirt and looked up at the mirror to see the reflection of Alpha Taylor. It couldn't be though. Maddox promised me he was locked up. I shook my head, trying to get his image out of my head, this couldn't be him. It was not possible. 

"My sweet little Phoenix, you know I'm real, don't pretend I'm not."

He spoke, practically reading my mind. I began to panic. This is not real I repeated over and over to myself. 

"You've been very bad Phoenix. You know you need to be punished for it." 

I began hitting my head, ripping at my hair slightly. This wasn't real, I knew it couldn't be. His reflection didn't go away though.

"How about you be a good little wolf for me and use that mirror shard to cut your arm for me? You know you deserve it."

I stared at the reflection of him and swallowed hard. I needed to prove to myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I didn't want to turn around, if he was actually there I would lose it. But he couldn't be there, right? No. Maddox would not let that happen. 

I spin around to find no one there. I take a deep breath, relieved it was all in my head.

I am losing my mind. 

I turn back around to look in the mirror, trying to compose myself, but my eyes mindlessly wander to the broken shard of mirror sitting on the floor. It didn't make sense in my head why I felt compelled to listen to this illusion of my Alpha, but I was so used to listening to him. 

What if somehow it was real? If I didn't listen I would surely get worse than just a cut on my arm.

Seemingly without control of my own body I kneel down and reach for the shard. I stare at in my hand for a minute, contemplating. I draw it up slowly with my bad arm up to my wrist where "Alpha Taylor" is permanently scarred onto my body. I chew on my lip, trying to get my thoughts in order, but all I feel is pain as the mirror pierces my skin seemingly against my will. 

I watch the blood slowly appear. The flow gets faster as I slice deeper. Nothing in my brain is connecting, why am I hurting myself? Why am I letting Taylor still control me? It was like I was in some trance.

This time when I heard the door open, I was positive I wasn't imagining it.

"Phoenix, what are you doing?" Maddox bursted in with a sense of urgency.

"I don't know."

He knelt down next to me, gently taking the broken piece of mirror out of my hand. He frantically glanced around the room until his eyes landed on an old t-shirt, which he wrapped around my arm. He looked at me worried. I stared down at my arm, too ashamed to look up.

"Why are you hurting yourself?"

I was too embarrassed to admit the truth. How would he respond if I told him I was seeing things that weren't there? I shrugged slightly, avoiding eye contact.

"Shit." He muttered under his breath, standing up, pacing around the small closet sized bedroom. "I knew we shouldn't have come back here, I fucking knew it." His anger slowly escalated, I remained passive, still staring down. "Wyatt told me it could trigger flashbacks. I should have fucking listened, why didn't I fucking listen?"

I stared at the t-shirt drenched in blood before slowly looking up at Maddox. 

"I saw Taylor." 

He stared at me quizzically, his anger slowly deflating. "No you didn't." He shook his head, "he's under high level security." 

"Guess I imagined it." I shrugged ignoring the steady pain in my wrist. He seemed annoyed at my lack of interest, but attempted to brush it off. 

He helped me stand and we walked out of the room, he must have mind linked someone because we were being escorted back outside to the car silently, the pack house seemingly empty.

I thought back to our interviews just a bit earlier, we had only gotten through about 36 members of the pack, 12 of them we deemed as "guilty" the rest would be reassigned to new packs as Black Raven was being disbanded for obvious reasons.

Why was I so stupid? Of course Taylor wasn't here, he would have to be an idiot to show his face here, even if he did escape, which he didn't.

I guess we would have to finish this process another day, presumably not at the pack house or else Maddox might have an aneurism trying to protect me from my own mind. 

"Sorry," I murmured as we sat down in the car.