Lies Of Perfection, The Last Howl :[Mated To The Alpha]:

1. /"PERFECT"\

Chapter 1

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My name is Taliyah-Jane Jones. I'm seventeen, never been loved.

I have dark brown hair, that my mom forces me to oil so it can look to perfection.

My eyes are exactly like my mothers-hazel and sharp.

I'm averagely tall, which I can thank my mother because of the expensive vitamins she gives me. My mother-she does everything to make me the opposite of her.

Sometimes I think she doesn't do it for me, but for her. I always think that she's just trying to make me her doll, even as I am almost eighteen.

My mom is short and plump with pixel black hair, hazel sharp eyes and she's very protective of me.

We aren't wealthy, so she can't send me to an all girls school. I go the the public highschool, and it's like I'm a shadow.

Hardly, I gather too much unneeded attention. When you have someones love, attention, etc, you abuse it. But when they ignore you, don't even say a peep, they crave it.

It's always like that. I'm friendless, and that's because of me. Mom always says friends won't get you anywhere, they'll just stab your back til they get what they want.

Boys? Don't get me started.

Mom would come out and beat them to hell with a bat. She says that boys are just trouble. Trouble to the mind, heart, and body.

She let's me dress how I want, because I've worked my ass off since I was ten to gain it. She trusts me, because how eager I am to learn her lectures. She's trying to make me flawless.

Perfect, in more accurate words.

But these words, they linger exhaustingly. They seem to slip slightly when I remember my father's words.

It's just something we keep a secret. My mom is just paranoid sometimes, I don't think I can ever leave her alone.

I'm a werewolf, so is my dad. He's tried to tell my mom, but she thinks he's joking all the time.

He finally left when I was seven. He's the alpha of some pack, from the eastcoast. He finally couldn't take my mom, packed up, and left.

He was about to bring me, but I explained how much mom needed me. I was her rock, and she was so fragile.

"Perfect? Sweetheart, if someone could be perfect, hell would freeze over. Flaws, they make you who you are. They create you. They create differences. They create the world. Without flaws, the world would be boring." It's what dad would say.

A single tear crawls down my cheek, leaving a wet line. Nobody is perfect. I'm sorry mom.

That's exactly what I thought when her coffin was lowered into the ground.

I love you mom.

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