Snippet #2730505

located in Seattle, Washington, a part of Wolves Reign: Blood Moon, one of the many universes on RPG.

Seattle, Washington

Seattle is not it's vibrant Capitol Hill or Space Needle attraction; it's dark, uninviting, and cold in more ways than one... Crime and danger lurk around every corner in this werewolf populated metropolis.

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Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein
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D E B B I E
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Debbie stood there for a few moments, swallowing her initial shock, in intense deliberation. She didn't often reign in her reactions, but one look at the welted face of her sobbing friend had her carefully considering her approach. In favor of words, she simply set her cleaning cloth on the nearest counter before striding over to where she sat. She pulled Lauren to her chest, cradling her head as assiduously as a newborn baby's. She softly stroked her hair, comforting her in the only way she knew how to, like a mother.

"Shhh...honey, I know. I know." She cooed, her words sopping with commiseration.

Lauren‘s posture slackened, allowing herself to melt into her friend’s arms and hide her teary face in her shoulder.

"I am a terrible mother." She said muffled against her body.

Debbie just squeezed her tighter. "Nuh uh. I don't wanna hear it. You do just fine as a Momma, this ain't got nothing to do with that. Our best is all we can do."

She pulled Lauren back to get a good look at her, pity sinking its teeth in further as she locked her eyes with Lauren's red and puffy ones. Deb didn't particularly enjoy seeing her friend gaze up at her with the same face any one of her children had when lost at the supermarket, bawling their eyes out as a bored cashier lead them down the aisles to find their mom.

She clucked her tongue. "That damned boy. He is probably hiding out at a friends, sulking or something. I'm gonna whoop his butt." Her tone softened. "What can I do? What in the Hell happened anyways, hon?"

Lauren wiped the tears out of her eyes with her sleeve and reached over to grab some napkins from the counter to blow her nose. After she had done this she took a deep breath, composing herself before speaking.

"I just… I said some terrible things I shouldn't have…"

She looked from the crumpled up napkin in her hands back to Debbie. As far as Debbie knew she was just your normal single mother with a teenage son. She never talked about her history with anyone. And as much as she might have wanted to spill the whole truth to her at that moment, there was no way that she could. So she paraphrased and edited as best she could on the spot.

"When I was pregnant with Jackson I was living in Seattle with his father… And when the siege happened, I ran away. Not because of what was happening but because I couldn’t stand him... Or couldn’t stand to be with him. I don’t know…"

She shook her head confused and looked down once again, afraid of seeing what her friend might be thinking as she continued.

"But he died there and I never looked back. And I never told Jackson the truth because I didn’t want him to think poorly of me for abandoning his father... Well, he figured out last night what I had done and now he's gone. I can't say I blame him… He’s probably already in Seattle by now, looking for relatives."

She peered up hesitantly, expecting admonishment or at least a judgmental look.

"If you say you had to get away from him, for whatever reason..."Debbie paused, the anticipatory Lauren very nearly holding her breath in foretaste. "Then that's what you had to do. He may not understand it now, or ever, but us momma's...we always do what is necessary." She watched the tension in her friend's posture abate with relief. "Every other living soul be damned." Debbie smiled softly, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Lauren patted her hand and smiled tiredly back, taking in a deep breath and exhaling lengthily. It had been a while since she had had a good cry and there were very few people she trusted to share in her true emotions, opting mostly for a veneer of noble stoicism in bearing her burdens. She was about to speak again to say thank you to Debbie when the door to the diner swung open and in with the breeze blew officer John Griner.

The tension she had just exhaled returned as she fretfully wiped the wetness from her cheeks away, but there was no hiding the splotchy redness around her eyes and nose even looking away.