My Werewolf, My Love

Chapter 1

                                                                                    Amara

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I lined up with the other loonies to get our nightly meds. Don't get me wrong, most of these people belong here, but I don't. I know what you're thinking, every crazy person says that, but I mean it. It all started with falling in with the wrong crowd. I know your question, But Amara, how did that lead to being put into a mental hospital? The footnotes version? I came into contact with werewolves, and naturally, when I tried to tell someone, they assumed I was insane. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. When no combination of medications "cured" me, I was locked up. The thing is, they didn't work because I'm not crazy and werewolves are real. My only mistake was telling other people about them. I should have known from the beginning it was a dumb idea to tell anyone. When I was found covered in bite marks and scratches, I should have lied. I should have said I couldn't remember, or an animal attacked me. In reality, I'm a very popular martial arts fighter, or at least I was before this.

I was on my way home from the gym one night when I was nabbed. When I came to, I was sitting in a chair in the middle of a ring with a metal cage around it. I had assumed I was kidnapped to fight in an underground fighting ring. I thought I was being human trafficked, and I was, but not by other humans. I was taken to be someone's prized pony to fight against werewolves. I did well for a while but living conditions were less than ideal. I was fed very little and by the end of it, I wasn't strong enough to fight a fly much less a werewolf. When I was almost killed in my last fight the bastards had me thrown from a moving vehicle like a bag of garbage. I should have died that night, but a good Samaritan found me and called an ambulance. After I was treated in the hospital a few detectives came to talk to me and like the dumbass I am, I blurted out the truth. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.

God did not help me, but tonight I was going to help myself. I was checking out of hotel hell without anyone's permission but my own. I didn't belong here, and I refused to stay another day while I slowly went insane. This wasn't going to be my life. I was not spending the rest of my life with people whose brains had turned to mush and doctors asking me, "And how did that make you feel?" How do I feel? Pissed off. I'm pissed I'm even here because some shifter bastard thought I was easy prey. I had some money hidden in a house my parents owned out in the country. I would get that money and live a quiet life in that house. I would remain alone and never rely on anyone but myself ever again.

The nurse popped her gum as I grabbed the pill and a cup of water swallowing down the pill. The nurses didn't know that these sleeping pills didn't work for me, and I had never bothered to mention it. As everyone took their meds, we all started to file back to our rooms. My ridiculous roommate, Suzie, was already asleep when I entered the room. I laid down pulling my sheets over me and closed my eyes feigning sleep. There would be a bed check in about half an hour, and after that, we wouldn't be checked on again till morning. This would be the perfect time for me to make my escape. I had stolen a pair of scrubs and a face mask along with a box of Mrs. Cohen's brown hair dye. They allowed her to color her hair because her dementia was worse when she thought she was sixteen but her naturally brown hair was white as snow. Also, I had stolen a pair of scissors from the nurses' station when Suzie was having one of her episodes. Honestly, all you have to do is bring up her ex, Steve, and she would go on a rampage. It is child's play.

What seemed like an eternity later, the door to our room creaked open before being shut again a few seconds later. I stayed still until the nurse's footsteps faded before carefully climbing out of the rickety bed. The metal coils groined in protest, and I held my breath. The sound wasn't that loud, but it felt deafening in a room this quiet. No one sounded the alarm, so I let out a breath as I stood on the desk chair and retrieved my paraphernalia from a tile in the ceiling. Why we even had a desk was beyond me. We weren't allowed to have anything sharp so it's not like we were writing letters and shit. I walked into the bathroom and looked at my reflection in the mirror. There were dark circles under my sea-green eyes showing the exhaustion that comes from being where you don't belong. My long blond hair fell in knotted waves down my back, unruly from months of not being taken care of properly. I pulled the scissors out before cutting off chunk after chunk of hair until it hung in an uneven, choppy bob at my shoulders. I mixed the hair dye and applied it to my head sitting on the edge of the tub, bouncing my leg impatiently. I didn't have a clock or a watch to know how long I had been sitting so I just waited until my eyes burned.