The Salvatore Saga, Part Four: My new Life

I woke up from the couch and quickly saw the situation. A group session going on and devoted one, so there goes healing my scars. OK, never mind. I got dressed and went to the kitchen. I needed to nourish myself and my babies, too. I went to eat and then figured out what to do first. The memories weren't rolling around in my head, but the whole thing came back on.

I knew I had pathos, but I was pregnant, so that would have to wait. I had unloaded before when pregnant, but now I was not in a mood. And the pack was doing what they normally did, fucked like rabbits. I was in pretty good shape, and human babies aren't as sensitive to my rage as kittens, so I raged at the gym.

The whole time Damon had once again dumped me, divorced from me, everyone had, the whole non-existence, the whole weakness, it all kicked in, and I felt my rage reacting, really sparking, and I knew this would take a while. I had once again, so many different colors of rage and not any way to Damon get to them. No chakras, no magic symbol. It's good that the pack found each other, and I have some free time to vent this rage. The best part is, now there's no electric shock collar to bring my rage down. No, I will handle this the way I want now. I needed to let myself feel, let this rage come out and burn in my veins. Purify me in a sort of its own way. 

There was a magnificent hall to vent my rage, and it was in the basement, so after I had eaten, I changed my clothes into gym gear and let it go. I took my rage out and let it go. Now, nothing mattered, nothing was felt, and time was a concept that didn't exist. I kicked, I beat, I punched, I slashed, only there was a white-hot rage that burned everything away: no feelings, no fears, no hopes, no disappointment. Just rage. It's just pure fury.

It burned in my veins, in my mind, and it felt so damn good to let it out. To be the berserk beast that I was once meant to be. But without brainwashing. Only years and decades had taught me their own lessons, and it was time to rip everything out before I could. I had almost my vampire side out, too. Bloodlust surged within me at some point, and I just did not care. I used it to fuel me up. Making me even more enraged.

I don't know how long I'd been raging when Magnum's voice said from the doorway, "You're so fucking sloppy and careless. If you were in a fight club right now, you'd get your ass kicked, your kick won't even hit. I see you need me. We should address your rage. "

His voice was dry, and on point as always, but I was not asking for feedback.

Oh fuck, when I'm not at the fight club, I'm just venting my anger. No need for sergeant major to come to tell me what to do. I rolled my eyes in frustration. I stopped beating and walked over to Magnum, rage on display.

I said, " I'm not in a fight club now; I'm in the pack house, unloading. The rest of the pack is fucking, and I'm raging. Isn't that the way it should be? No need for you to try to egg me on."

I had not bothered to put my camo power on. I let my scars show. They were part of me and there was nothing I could do to them. 

He looked at me coolly, not fazed by my rage, and said, "What you got, is that a scar on your side? How have you been scarred?"

I explained to Magnum the whole damn thing. Also, how the pack was supposed to help and heal all the scars away, but as always happens, my shit, my problem. The pack just can't seem to learn that my experiences and my memories are too much for them, and it feels cruel sometimes to get this hope that the pack would be strong enough to help.

He listened to me, not saying a word, just a slight crease formed between his brows as I more or less ranted at him about the pack and its shortcomings. He somehow understood my point of view. 

 But no, then it pisses me off when this truth comes out, and I should just learn to accept and not trust that the pack can take my shit. When I so wish sometimes the pack could endure what I've endured so that the pack and Damon and others would be stronger than me. But no, I'm the strongest, the most resilient, and it's a fucking lonely place to be, at the top, to be the toughest.

Magnum listened to me, throughout my rant and he knew me better than Pack, Wulfe knew me pretty well too but we had a history with Magnum, a history of so many battles, and so many losses and there was the connection between us I never have with the pack.He knows me and my rage. I had only once before had one connection deeper than what Magnum and I had and Jake died. With him, I had a connection that I would never have with anyone.

Magnum touched one of my scars and asked, " Tell me the story of this scar."

I was silent for a moment. The memory flooded over me. It was a scar from one cannula Angelus was using to shove that fucking jelly inside me, and something cracked inside me. My raging had left me open to my emotions, and I had not yet dealt with them all, not at all. I collapsed to the ground and started crying inconsolably. I couldn't do anything to myself, and I cried. 

Magnum looked at me for a moment, puzzled, and said, "I'll see if any of the Pack members are free and if they can help. I don't understand now. You have some problem here and I see if anyone can help you."

He left, and I was left crying. All that shit, the feeling of disintegration, all of it started going around in my head, and I couldn't break the cycle, no way. I lay on my side, crying, so deep profound sadness and anguish that it seemed to tear through my soul like wildfire. 

Magnum went up from the basement floor, walked, and saw Adam. He had no idea what had broken Mimi so badly and he had always a hard time dealing with emotional women.

He explained to Adam briefly, " Mimi was raging for four days, and I asked her about one scar, and she just collapsed and started crying. I don't know what to do now if you can calm her down. I can't take crying women very well."

Adam nodded, and he teleported to the gym. He said nothing. Magnum stayed to see if any Salvatores were nearby and if those threat reports had any jobs for him. Adam went to Mimi, stroked her, took her in his arms, and teleported to one bedroom. He went to bed, stripped his upper torso bare, and took Mimi in his arms, stroked her, let her cry. He spoke soothingly.

I realized I was in Adam's arms, but the crying didn't stop. The memories just kept rolling around in my head, the feeling of how my mind fragmented, and I had accepted it. I didn't fight it. I had been so empty, hollow from the whole Nick thing that I had given up. I was weak. How my rage did not hold anymore. I wrote those letters and then it was nothing. I was floating away. 

All of a sudden, someone hit me right in the face with an open palm. I stopped crying a little out of sheer shock, and I looked. It was a seven. But then the memories came back, and he hit me again. And I pulled myself together, and the memories went away. His hand was raised yet another strike.

I said, " I'm fine now. There's no need to hit me again."

I noticed Adam wasn't there anymore, and I sat on the bed for a while. I felt kind of empty still. Like my emotions had gone away fully. I did not know what to feel.

The seven said to me, "You, my lady, tried to break your mind again. I've now protected those memories and removed those scars so that you won't get into that spiral again. But now you're free to do what you want, you're pregnant, you have life within you, so try to hold yourself together."

I nodded and said, "Yeah, I'm fine now."

Seven nodded and walked away. He said nothing else. He had been just stopping me, breaking my mind with my pain. 

I sat there for a while, then got in the shower. I had been raging for four days in a row, so I was stinky and sweaty and wanted to wash up. The shower did me so well and my muscles were tired. I was limp after a hot long shower and I opted for an oversized tee shirt and jeans. Nothing fancy.

Then I went to eat again, and a bunch of Salvatores were making food. This time I was fed and there was no option for me to choose my food. They tasted my blood again and started shoving food and smoothies in front of me. So I was a good girl and went to eat. They told me that raging while pregnant four days in a row is not the best thing to do as my body requires calories quite a lot, so I should be expected to be fed often and just behave and be a good girl.

 I thought I'd go dye some fabrics and yarns on top of the food so I could knit new clothes for the babies, too. Everything always went with them, to whatever dimensions the babies went to. So it was always good to knit new ones, and I had time, as there were still about seven weeks to go. It would be nice to have some hobbies, not just be a convalescent or a pet.

I went down to the basement, where I had an enormous space, my fabric dye room. The space was concrete, with no windows but good lighting. There were cupboards on the walls, and in the middle of the space were two very long pools, about three meters wide and 20 meters long.

I have hung metal frames of the same size on the ceiling above them with clips at regular intervals. There were large machines, printing machines that printed patterns on the fabric, and yarn dyeing machines, and in all these cabinets, there were dyes, undyed fabrics, and yarns.

There was a large drying cabinet where the fabrics were then taken to dry. First, I took a couple of packs of cotton tricot and took them close to the printer. I turned on the computers and equipment and put water in one tub to drain and a chemical mixture, a fixative, in the other.

Once the machines were on, I put the cotton fabric in the printer, chose a pattern and color theme, and put it on. It would take 24 hours for the machine to print the entire pack. Then I loaded the thin baby yarns into the yarn dyeing machine and put in slip colors, many pretty colors that would make unique knits.

Then I took a pack of silk. It was an undyed off-white. I would make silk clothes for the babies, too. Silk was an excellent material, and I had gotten over the year a lot of fabrics over road trips. Also, fleas had provided me with pack after pack. So I had a lot of fabrics and this was a nice thing to do.

First, I pulled the frame down from the ceiling and started sticking the silk fabric to the frame, stretching it carefully over 20m. It was taut, secured by these clips that did not hurt the fabric but kept it on the frame.

Then I went to a cabinet and started picking out metallic, pastel colors, glitter, and all kinds of fun and dropping colors into the water. They would float to the water's surface, and I could put little air nozzles on top that would smear the colors like some acrylic paintings. I did this around the pool so that there was a film of color on the surface of the water.

It was quite pretty, but each time would be a unique pack of fabric, and this was so much fun to do. Real design clothes. I was toying with dyeing a bunch of fabric and sending them to Ruby to make out of clothes, as she is still De la Rentas's chief designer. 

Then, I lowered the fabric into the water using the frame. I let it sit in the water for a specified time, then lifted it and dipped it into the fixative in its basin. And it sat there for a few minutes. I lifted the dyed canvas, let it drain, and turned on the fans to pre-dry.

In the meantime, I went and lifted the already finished yarn rolls into the drying cabinet to dry and put more in. When the fabric had dried a bit, I removed it from the frame and put it in the drying cabinet to dry. It would be ready in a few days. It was really pretty and this would be the grand idea of making my clothes too, dress from my self-designed fabric. I had an extensive library of patterns and clothes designs on my computer and they were fully customizable so you could make real clothes for measure there.

I continued with more fabrics, dyed and put to dry, printed fabrics, and put them away in my own closet so no one else would use them. I went out to eat and knitted some yarns in between. Then, I got inspired again and had to dye some fabrics. I was putting the fabric back in the frame. This was now satin. This is what I would make a dress for myself.

 I had a lot of effect colors, and this was going to be metallic. I wasn't even thinking if these colors were bad for me because, well; I didn't touch them much, and it was an enormous space, so there were no fumes and no warning signs. I just pressed on, enjoying myself, and I had no care in the world at all.