Primal » Isaac Lahey

Chapter O1.

Beacon Hills has been considered my home for the past sixteen years of my life. Like every other town you could find in California, there's a store, a hospital, a park, a school; on the outskirts of town, you could find an old church, an apartment complex, a gas station, a police department, and just about anything else that makes up a town. Beacon County resides directly outside of the Beacon Hill Reserve, a large state forest surrounding the west side of town. Here in Southern California, residents reside in a charming little suburban township. It was the picturesque town. A place any family would consider raising a family. In a way, Beacon Hills seemed almost too perfect.

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My reflection mimicked my actions in the bathroom mirror as I slowly straighten my hair. The process never exceeded fifteen minutes, reasonably because my hair was naturally dull. Slowly, I flicked my eyes towards the mirror out of curiosity. There was something about the lifeless look in my eyes, that even makeup couldn't cover up. The previous nights events flash across my mind.

Last Friday night, as tradition of Beacon Hills High School, we celebrated the annual Winter Formal. An event known for its glamours lights, beautiful decor, and the occasional spiking of punch. The night started out normally. I went with Jacob Taylor-who had asked me a few days before hand-a lacrosse player who played on the team with my brother. With no one else in mind, I said yes, that was my first mistake of the evening. There was nothing wrong with Jacob that I first assumed, I mean I thought I knew him decent enough since we've known each other since the fifth grade, but let's just say the date ended badly, terribly in fact.

Along with the horrible date, a friend of mine, Lydia Martin, ended up hospitalized that night. Apparently, it was another ominous animal attack. Ever since the start of the year, which was only a month ago, several animal attacks have occurred in town leaving it victims traumatized, and others dead. Never in Beacon Hills have so many animal attacks happened within such a recent amount of time. The idea seemed too preposterous at first, but sadly, very true. Although, unlike some of the other victims, Lydia was lucky enough to be spared her life. Minor cuts and bruises were scattered along her body, enough to land her in the hospital for a few days. And just yesterday she went M.I.A..

Not paying attention to what I'm doing, the tip of the flatiron brushes against the tip of my ear, and I yelp loudly, the flatiron plummeting to the tile floor landing with a loud clatter. I groan loudly, as I begin to notice my ear turning a bright shade of red. Angrily, I rip the plug from the wall and set the flatiron on the counter.

"Are you alright Jamie?" my brother, Danny, shouts from down the hall. His footsteps echoed across the hardwood floors of the hallway as he walks over from his room. The door unlatched as he entered our shared bathroom. He peeks his head in cracking the door slightly, he looked around at my mess spread across the countertop.

"I just burned the tip of my ear with my flatiron. It's not as bad as the last time," I explain. This situation occurred more than usual, me burning myself with the flatiron. My uncoordinated skills, along with my lack of hair expertise, left me in the dark when it came to harming myself with a either my flat iron or curling wand. So I'm surprised Danny even asks anymore, he knows me well enough to know that if I shout in the morning I've probably harm myself with the flatiron. Although it wasn't in his character to go without saying anything, a characteristic I loved about him.

He sighed and shook his head, "Not very unlikely. What was this? The fifth, sixth time you've burned yourself in the past three months?"

"No," I protest, quickly defend myself. "This would be the fourth time I've burned myself."