Insane

The Test

The Test
Today we take the test, the test that will define whether we are human, werewolf, or a vampire. I don't know what will happen to me if I'm not a human, my whole family is, so if I'm not...
My black combat boots hit the grey, gravelly concrete loudly. I really don't want to go to school today. I suppose I could ditch, but that would earn me a whipping from--no, I shouldn't think of that. When I arrive at the orange brick building I walk inside the big front doors, everyone, like usual is at their lockers. I quickly put my bag into the bottom, and grab all of my books for today, and rush to my homeroom. Talking to people is not exactly my fortè
"All students please report to the gymnasium. Thank you." I hear the voice over the intercom say, I hesitantly leave my books there. Afterwards, we're just going to be continuing like usual anyway.
I can feel my heart pounding against my chest. Fear. I'm shocked, I've never been afraid of, well, anything. Not even when I received the first belt to my back. I had saw it coming so I wasn't even shocked, really.
After the first five or so names I stop paying attention. My mind kept going back to the idea of being murdered by my blood thirsty father. I wouldn't deepen it against him.
After a while, my name gets called. I feel my body tense up slightly.
"Jadelyn West."
Suddenly I want to throw up, and the sweat glistening on my pale forehead isn't appreciated. I get up from my seat on the plastic black chair and walk onto the stage behind the satin red curtain.
The blonde haired woman waiting will tell me who I am.
"I'm Beatrice." That's all she tells me, before handing me a sheet. It was the test.
The questions were simple, only things like what's your favourite colour.
Almost no school-related things.
"I'm done."
She scans the test on the machine, and when she pulls the results out, I can't tell what she's feeling. Fear? Concern? Shock? Maybe all three, at least that's what I can feel from the look on her face.
"Get out."
Suddenly I feel anger wash over me, how dare she not give me my result!
"What was my result?" I demand.
She looks at me and I can now see in her hazel eyes that she's concerned.
"Werewolf," My one chance to make my father proud, diminished by just one word. I feel my heart sink, and tears threaten to fall from of my aqua eyes.
"And vampire," She added.
"I entered werewolf on the machine, that's what your mother was."
Soon enough I'm pushed back in front of the curtain.
But my mother was human...?

The rest of my day goes on uneventful, until the final bell rings.

The second I walk in the door, I am greeted by father.
"What was your result?"
My father demands. I know I can't lie, he'd see right through it.
"Werewolf."
I twist the rings on my eyebrow nervously.
He just walks out of the kitchen.
And for a moment I think I'm safe, but when he comes back with one of my spiked belts I realize I'm not.
I've become immune to the pain of it, it's happened too many times. I don't even bother to resist. I hear him yell things, like I'm a disgrace, but I don't care. I've learned to drown it all out.
Tomorrow, I will choose if I become one of the Knight pack, Raphael's clan, or stay with my father. If I stay, it wouldn't be against my father to murder me so if I go I can only hope that I make it.
I can't choose to join Chandler Knights pack. He would smell my impure blood. I can't join Raphael's clan either, they would know straight away that I'm not pure. And i definitely will not stay with my father. So where can I possibly be safe?
That night I feel the tears that I held back all day streaming down my face and staining the once pristine pillow.

Morning.
Today I have to choose.
I wipe the tears from my eyes, preparing to walk downstairs and see the hate shining in my father's eyes.
Only I don't.
The only thing I see his my father's dead body in front of the island. Perhaps I should be sad to see the bloody stab wounds decorating his lifeless body and the pool of blood on the white linoleum, but I'm not.
I wouldn't call it joy, I don't feel joy. If I do someone will take it from me and I'll feel worse.
Joy in itself is a weakness.
The strange emotion I feel is probably relief.
I'm free.
I shake my head to get rid of the ridiculously hopeful idea.
I'm not free, I still have to choose.
I take the black sweater off the coat hook and walk out the door casually. It's as if nothing changed, only everything has.
"Watch it!" the voice of someone snapping at me broke me out of my thoughts.
I look up to see the one and only Chandler Knight.
"Watch it brat." He says before roughly shoving past me.
I wonder how he treats his pack.
That's when I made up my mind.
I'm not going to be a part of his pack.
I'm not going to be a part of Raphael's clan.
I'm not going to stay in the house that I've grown to resent, in the house that was never a home to me.
I'm not going to choose.

I quickly ran back into my house, I saw flies already hovering over the corpse laying in the kitchen. I crinkled my nose in disgust.
I took everything that could fit in the black bag I used for school.
It's a shame though, that I won't be able to thank whoever killed my father.
But then again, I don't say thank you.
Tonight I break away.

Once I walked out that door that I've heard being slammed so many times, I realized that I had nowhere to go.
I looked back at the white door, as if to decide if maybe I should stay.
But all the memories came back, one in particular.
I remembered the first time he had brought the belt down on my back
Eight years ago, I was only six.
He had been yelling about how he hated my mother, the mother that died so I could live, well at least I thought it was my mother.
I remembered how I shouted back at him, "Don't you say a word against my mother!"
He was drunk that night, but when he was sober it was ten times worse. I liked to hope that when he was drunk he didn't know what he was doing, that hope was diminished when he soberly whipped me.

I was rather mature for my age, and even so everyone had always told me, "Daddy's a mean ol' mister, your mamma though, why she's an angel in the ground."
But soon after anyone I had ever seeked comfort in went missing.
Most people blamed my father.
Now, the moment someone sees the body laying dead in the kitchen, they'll blame me for it. I suppose it would make sense, no one else would have a motive, and no one else lived with us.
But there's still one question lurking in the back of my mind; if they killed dear ol' dad, why didn't they kill me as well?
For the first time in my life, I feel a smile curving the corners of my lips upward. Someone might actually care for me.
I run. I run across the familiar dull streets until I reach the border. They say that the people who leave the city never survive more than a day, they say that it's too dangerous.
It doesn't take me too long to reach the border.
I would be shot on sight if anyone saw me cross it, or if anyone actually did their jobs. The officers never actually guard it, they think that no one could possibly be stupid enough to do so.
I look around at the desolate area.
"Yeah, this place is so dangerous." The sarcasm drenched my voice.
"No more dangerous than the city," I add as an afterthought.
I can't help it, I'm angry. Angry at the world, angry at Chandler, angry at my father.
I'm so lost in thought that I didn't notice I stepped in a hole until I felt hands grabbing at me, dragging me down, and underground.

After I hit my head on the rock, everything goes black.
Am I dying?

"You should have done a better job of getting anything dangerous out of the tunnels!" A female voice snaps, furiously.
"Big deal, she's not dead, is she?" A male voice complains.

That's the first thing I hear.
I let out a soft groan, there's too much whiteness in the large room. It makes my head ache, and my vision takes a moment to clear from the blurry state.
Quickly the girl is hovering over me.
"Are you alright, are you in any pain?"
"I'm fine! Now get away from me!" I snap.
Her bright green eyes go wide.