Wild Wolves

Chapter 8 -Hunted

Lydia

The satisfying roar from the Mustang almost makes me feel like riding a horse, it was old but sturdy which make me think it's too bad to ditch it soon.

It was a good car- less maintenance, less problem and less switching.

Everything was great except the weather jealous of me going shopping, but I get it. I used to have a code of my own which is, "never go shopping" because I hate shopping!

I don't understand some people who like to spend thousands of dollars and waste time in the mall just for something they don't know what to buy. It feels strange.

The whole four-wheel-drive thing doesn't go as nice as it would be, but it became less of my concern when it turns out to be a whole different story.

To get it straight, at the whole ride where I'm supposed to be focusing on driving, my head can't help itself to keep replaying the scene where I and Daniel at the kitchen.

It makes me feel funny, laughing all alone and sometimes couldn't deal with the overload embarrassment.

I was acting coy, and it wasn't something common. Everything is different with him, it just..unusual.

The dome of the Mustang gives ultimate UV protection and keeps me from burning (but I won't burn under sunlight like other vampires, the human genes that I got from my mother make me special) Big fluffy clouds sliced the grey sky, it will rain soon.

The sun was hiding behind it like its dying. Thinking of somewhat part of me made me think about Mom, whatever the "special" peculiar cells that she gave me made me different.

Unless different is not a good way...

Don't go there girl, keep your heads stern. But I can't help it, it's so mysterious! Who is she? What she's like? All these numberless questions were left unanswered because my dad would throw tantrums if I bringing up the topic.

There is one time when I was 5, I already get my hair combed but it still messy and wild and I used to know most girls my age will get their mother to brush their hair and the conversation ended up to be the worst.

"Dad, can you comb my hair?" I walking closer to him as he reading the thick, dusty book that looks something like a map with chocolate seas and black ink and the places name was written in Greek.

"I told you to do it yourself, hon. Tell Madison to do it" he looked back at his handful book, draw a continent and name it "Blayszeria" like in English we read it as Conrad zone, Wild Wolve's dent. My father acknowledged me as a "hunting zone" and always warned me to stay away.

I barely spending time with Maddison, my maid. I got used to hanging out with Kristophe, even he's a control freak and so annoying. "But I don't want Maddie" I protested. "Hmm" my father ignored me.

"Dad..." pleading voice. An innocent girl who doesn't know what the hell is she talking about.

"I want Mom to brush my hair....."

One big mistake and that day I used to remember how I can have big scars and bruises all over my body as my dad beat me up with his leather belt, a jolting pain of thunder at the surface of my skin and I cried so hard when he throwing furniture around and smashing lamps and glass and destroy technically everything in the room.

Then another piece of memory reminiscing me of how I got into Kristophe's arms and he held me for hours while patting on my hair, shushing me and told me to sleep and he had a bad fight with my dad the whole night afterwards.

My dad is not a good father, and his growing malevolence insists I go with my Mom.

I only know her name as I heard rumours a long time ago that Kristophe used to be my mom's scandal and he and my mother involved in some kind of brief relationship back in the '80s (imagine how old Kristophe is).

Only what's left of her is her DNA. And I guess it's alright.

It took me like seven minutes to find an empty parking space, here today at Walmart was a little crowded. I bought a few cheap sneakers and T-shirts, sports bras and panties.

I bought some clothes for Daniel and a little bit of the boy's private stuff (don't ask) just in case. Everything went to the cart as I checked the prices and lined up a bunch of customers.

In a meantime, three girls behind me caught my attention as I stared at the blonde hair wearing skirts and redhead in the jumpsuit with brunette wearing singlets and jeans giggling at me.

I don't like the blonde witch and she won't win if she had a skin colour match with me, her over-tanned skin is no better than mine.

Spoking something that must be unpleasant, giving me "hey girl, what's the matter? Still shopping at the boys' station with the holy crap you wearing?" look and I just rolled my eyes at them.

I put everything on the counter as I make an appreciation smile at the cashier when she doesn't look at my fake ID. She did a great job for me.

Based on the card I used to be 18 but I'm 3 years younger than the picture that I just pampered. She handed back my credit card and a receipt, "Thank you" as I read her silver pinned batch, it was written there SAMANTHA all in capital letters.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day" and she returned to scan other people's items.

Walking out from the mall as the automatic glass door opened while hands firmly on the handle pushing the trolley and I didn't trouble myself to search for my neon orange car, far away at the corner.

At the time I wanted to lay my bottom on the driver's seat, I've sensed something else-

A reek of wet dogs smell, sweaty odour with the scent of hatred, hunting aura and killing instinct, it blocked the airways of my nose as I tried to smooth down the arise wrinkles. Now? Are you kidding me? In the parking lot out of nowhere?

Fine!

You wanna play? Let's play. I could picture myself as a coward chicken that makes them mouthwatering so much. I started the engine and rushing as fast as I could with my life on the line.

I'm not gonna die under their deadly silver claws and shark-sized teeth with my head on their dinner plate and my body parts as their sweet dessert.

No way, no day.

Hey there! So here comes the thrilling part, but so far I only have 5 readers and I don't feel like writing anymore as my story was just something simple. Can you tag readers for me? Because if there's a potential that everybody would like this story, I'll keep updating, otherwise I will delete this story entirely after three months. Okay?

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