250 Flashback To The Past (2) (TRIGGER WARNING)
TRIGGER WARNING : SUICIDE
How did one explain to eighteen-year-old children why his father committed suicide?
Instructor Alana stole a glance at Lucien Clearwater. She did not know what to say.
The youth kept his head lowered as he followed Head Instructor Jeriston out of the camp. His demeanor was calm and collected, the complete opposite of his twin sister, who could not stop sobbing while holding onto her brother’s arm.
Ever since Lucien was young, his pack had high expectations of him. He and Annalynne might be born within seconds apart from each other, but it was clear that the weight of the burdens on their shoulders differed by mountains.
Despite knowing that, Lucien was able to lead a happy childhood. He had a cute twin sister, affectionate parents, and also a supportive pack around him.
It all came crashing down when they heard the news.
How was a teenager supposed to digest the news? He was old enough to understand what suicide and death meant, but he was not old enough to understand why.
Why?
.....
Why did his father try to kill himself?
Weren’t they happy?
Was he not... happy?
When Lucien was feeling overwhelmed by his burden, he did not cry. He did not shout. He merely stayed silent, as if trying not to alert any predator. That was his coping mechanism.
Beta Dylan, then Alpha Gordon’s Beta, was waiting outside to pick the children up. The ends of his eyes were tinged red. As soon as he saw the two alpha children, he gathered them into his arms.
“Uncle Dylan,” Annalynne sobbed. “My Dad... My Dad, how is he?”
Beta Dylan cleared his throat.
Although the instructors were unlikely to blab, it was still unwise to speak about the pack’s internal business in front of them.
“Thank you,” he said to the three instructors in front of them. “I will... I will bring them back tomorrow.”
“Take time,” Head Instructor Jeriston said. “Only one week is left anyway. It is fine to not come back at all.”
“No,” Beta Dylan shook his head. “The children should keep busy. The Alpha would have wanted that.”
Lucien threw one last look at the Alpha Camp.
He did not even get to say goodbye to Ronan. Instructor Alana told him what happened when Ronan was off to get them something to eat from the kitchen.
When he got back, he would tell Ronan everything.
With that last thought in his mind, Lucien stepped into the car and drove off to St. Clarence hospital.
Beta Dylan rushed the children along the hospital corridor toward the ICU hall. By the time they arrived there, Gordon Clearwater had been moved to a special ward.
Inside the ward, the Alpha lay motionlessly with a bunch of life-saving equipment attached to his body.
Alice Clearwater pulled her children into a tight embrace as soon as she saw them.
“Oh, my babies,” she lamented.
“Thank you, Dylan.”
Beta Dylan gave the Luna a stiff nod.
“How is the Alpha doing?”
Alice Clearwater wiped at her eyes.
“The surgery was a success. Thankfully, the stab wound missed the vital organs. He will be fine.”
Tears dripped from Alice’s eyes. Gordon would be fine physically — for now, but what about his psychological state? Would he try to kill himself again?
Alice sent Dylan back to Blue Hill City to tend to the pack, while she waited by Gordon’s bedside with her two children.
None of them said anything. They just huddled together in silence, waiting for the father to open his eyes and tell them why he did what he did.
After what seemed like hours, Gordon opened his eyes.
The first thing he did was wail sorrowfully.
Not because he was saved.
It was because he was still alive.
He blamed everyone for saving him, saying that he was better off dead.
Lucien and Annalynne were frozen from shock. They had never seen their father in this state. Gordon Clearwater had always been the pillar of the pack. He was strong and brave. He always knew what to do. Right?
It was then that Lucien realized something that he failed to see all these years.
The Alpha, his father, in the end, was still a mere mortal. He just carried a heavier burden on his back.
After gathering bits and pieces of information, they finally understood what happened.
Just like every other pack, the Silent Walkers Pack had a pack business. It was the Clearwater Finance.
As soon as they entered the society, all pack members would start contributing to this pack business. Some stayed from start to end, some decided to venture out and start their own business or work somewhere else.
Most of the pack members though, depended on this one pack business to feed their mouths.
As the Alpha of the pack, the CEO position of Clearwater Finance automatically fell to Gordon’s lap. Their core business was to invest in worthy projects and draw their profit monthly from established companies; sometimes in form of loan interest, sometimes in form of stocks.
A few months ago, Gordon Clearwater spoke about a very interesting project.
A group of young, bright, and talented people approached the investment company CEO with an amazing proposal. The Alpha did not disclose the details of the project. He merely shared his excitement about being able to invest in such a promising company.
Needless to say, the project failed.
All the invested money was gone with no chance of payback. Clearwater Finance was on the brink of bankruptcy.
Unable to take the heavy blow, Gordon Clearwater decided to kill himself to rid his family and also his pack of the insurmountable debt.
At that time, the sum was massive. Although werewolf packs stayed together, only a few packs had enough capital to help Clearwater Finance survive the ordeal.
Even if they did, they might not be willing to help. It was simply too risky. No pack knew when they might fall into such a predicament and must haul themselves out of the mud pit.
The Silent Walkers Pack was left to their vices.
Gordon’s only son, Lucien and Beta Dylan took the initiative to approach the big packs one by one. After suffering from one rejection after another, they finally decided to approach the one with the biggest financial capital of them all: the Infinite Eclipse Pack with their Silverback Corporation.