Prompt: "So, I thought I had finally hit rock bottom. But then it got worse."

Paul Lahote/Rachel Black


Being Rachel Black had never been a piece of cake.

When I was fourteen, I watched my mother die. I watched the firefighters try and pull her free from the wreckage of her old Toyota, her face mangled and bleeding and frozen in horror; a face that would haunt my dreams for the next six years.

I watched my twin sister marry a total stranger the second it was legal, just so that she'd have an excuse to never come back to the Rez.

I'd worked all sorts of crazy hours and terrible, degrading jobs, just so that I could afford to finish college with an actual degree that would give me something better.

And now - I was jobless, homeless, and La Push-bound, despite my best efforts to stay away.

So, I thought I had finally hit rock bottom. But, then, it got worse.

One damned walk on First Beach, the place I'd spent my entire childhood running and playing before everything went to shit, and I saw him. Paul Lahote. My brother's kid friend, some childish twerp I'd barely given a second look when I lived in the little red house.

It didn't matter.

One look.

One look was all it took for me to be irrevocably bound to La Push, chained to the one place I'd worked so hard to distance myself from.