hybrid on the run #wattys2018

Chapter 2 - I grew up happy...Til I was nine

I grew up normal and happy, aside from some totally unrelated foot problems, divorced parents, and my werewolf father making life a human hell for my mother and I... But that all changed when I turned nine.

I realized that, when my family and I moved, I somehow ended up going to school with Allie (mentioned in last chapter. BTW her mom married my uncle when I was three. just saying) I started visiting after school. That's when she finally told me what happened the night I was born and what I am.

My whole world spun into a new light. Her timing was impossibly perfect, because not a month later, I began to have cravings. I moved again. Years passed and I didn't see Allie once. Then my new best friend moved away, the only one who knew about me, the only one besides Allie that I trusted anymore. After that, everything went to hell in a hand basket.

I died my hair jet black and cut it short. Dad threw a freaking monkey fit for months, but I didn't care one bit. He had never accepted me because I wasn't a boy. I began to wear all black and actually pull off a grunge look.

Although I was comfortable in my own skin for once, I didn't realize I had gone goth until "too late" had come and pass. I looked in my closet . Only two pieces of clothes were not goth or grunge. I hadn't worn either of them in almost a year.

I had some friends here and there, but... Oh, who am I kidding? I only had 10 friends maximum. More years pass. I move out of my goth state, but I still have my grunge moments. My powers are growing impressively, but not nearly as much as my cravings or preference for rare meat.

My mother split from her third husband and began taking my sister and I to an amazing place unlike any we'd ever known before. The country. We had been city kids our whole lives. Well that changed forever. Although none of the residents knew my secret, I could feel myself growing as a better person. I could also feel my support system grow ten times larger than it originally had been. It only took a few months to convince mom to move us there. One problem with that fool-proof plan: Father.

He was willing to take my mother to court over the relocation. Luckily, we won. The very fact he did it had infuriated me to no end. Here's the thing about me and anger: We get along great sometimes, sometimes not. This was one of those not-so-great times, as in, I had to bite my tongue so hard that it bleed. (which I would do anyway to keep from hurting the humans I love, which BTW HURTS!!!) I almost called him up and gave him a piece of my mind. Because I didn't call, I swear I felt my stomach attempt to devour itself. I'm very thankful that my granddaddy cooks steak medium-rare.

Anyway, it took over a year to get through court so we could move out of the city. (thanks but no thanks dad!) Now that that's been said, time's caught up with us. Funny thing about time: it sometimes feels flexible, especially when telling your life story from birth. Yes I skipped a few things, but they were not important, and I can't name everything without making this thing a million miles long. Now I'll let you follow what happens next.