Spitfire ━ Jasper Hale

─ PROLOGUE.

Shadow had tried to avoid thinking about the night Kora died; had tried to will herself to forget all that she could. But, no matter the effort, it never seemed to work.

  No one ever forgets the day they discover their own mother's dead body.

→

  The most vivid detail that Shadow could remember was how hard it was to breathe. It felt nearly impossible. Her chest ached as her lungs stopped functioning and her hands shook as horrified green eyes gazed upon the sight before them. It was one of the worst feelings she could ever recall experiencing.

  Though, the horror didn't even come close to the grief she would soon feel.

  In those first few moments, Shadow felt suspended in shock. Her mind seemed incapable of fully processing what was going on. She figured it was some kind of defence mechanism ingrained into her body, but it didn't take long for the reality of what she was seeing to set in.

Shadow felt something tear through her— painful as her shaking legs became incapable of supporting her any further. As her knees hit the solid floor, the ache that jolted up through Shadow's body seemed to set everything back into motion.

  She could remember hearing herself scream, the sound reverberating throughout the all-too-silent house. But, the Swan girl could hardly feel the cry as it passed through her lips. All she could comprehend was the horror that came with the sight of her mother's lifeless body lying before her.

  Shadow knew it was too late, long before she reached out to gently touch her mother's face. Her chest never rose or fell with her breathing— as it never would again— and her skin was jarringly cold. Shadow couldn't tear her eyes away, no matter how much the sight made her want to gag.

  Hot tears streamed torrents down her face and Shadow's screams turned to shrieking as she felt something not quite cold, but not quite warm touch her knee. Liquid seeped into her jeans. Shadow jolted back, bile rising in the back of her throat.

But, she moved too quickly and her hand slipped out from out under her. Lifting her fingers, Shadow saw that there was already blood on her palms. The smell of iron in her nostrils was almost potent enough to taste.

  The shrieks stopped all at once. Shadow stared down at the blood; cold terror being the only emotion washing over her. She could feel something stirring inside─ a horrible screech building up in her chest. It was such a familiar sound, not sweet with reminiscence but bitter with horrible premonition.

As the cry reached her lips, Shadow didn't bother fighting back— she embraced it.

  The Swan girl let the scream have its way with the emotions taking over her. In a matter of seconds, it had reached a peak so powerful there was no stopping it. Shadow opened her mouth and welcomed the cry of death as it left her lips.

The sound pierced the air with such a terrifying intensity that any piece of glass or fragile ornament within the vicinity exploded, fuelled by her own pain.

  Shadow could hear the bathroom mirror smashing; felt its shards cut open small wounds upon her skin. But, she didn't care. This physical pain could never amount to the grief, the anger, and the immeasurable loss she felt. It was like dying without peace.

A part of her was missing now; Shadow Swan was incomplete in a way that made her feel devastatingly alone.

  The Swan girl felt so much anguish that she curled into herself; screaming as though it would relieve her of all she felt. But, it never would. Her pained sobs continued to pierce the air, blood stained what was once clean, and Shadow's mother lay on the ground; unresponsive to her daughter's agony.

  The Swan girl couldn't help but feel responsible as she looked at the body. Tears blurred her vision and her arms held tightly to the knees pressed against her chest. For a small second, Shadow allowed herself to wish this all to be some cruel nightmare.

As if her mother would rise and tell her that everything was okay, that this was all a mere lie and she would never leave her alone in this world. Just like she had promised.

Shadow knew she wouldn't, and she should have known better.

  Nothing can ever bring back the dead.

I own nothing except for Shadow, her character, and the plot, unless stated otherwise. All other aspects of this story belong to their respective owners. Copyright 2015. Do not steal my story. Any republication without permission or credit is punishable by my fist up your ass. Thank you.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Do not comment anything related to Teen Wolf or comment on how I write my stories. It's beyond irritating and I'm tired of it. This story isn't similar in any way to Teen Wolf, and somehow people always think that they created banshees when in reality the show just brought exposure to pre-existing fictional supernatural species. Also, the type of banshee Shadow is will clearly be different to Teen Wolf's. Another thing is that the way one writes dialogue is based on preference. There's no official way to write a story nor is there an official rule to writing dialogue. Sure, if this was a professionally written story to be published then I'd understand, but this is literally just fan-fiction. Thank you.