Kidnapped By A Werewolf

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The school bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

I took my time as always, making sure I had all my stuff packed safely in my bag before I got up and left the classroom. I headed to my locker and got out all the materials I need for my homework. Packing the rest of them in my small black backpack, I swung the bag onto my shoulder. Closing my locker softly before I made my way out of the school, and began my walk home.

Making my way out of school I put my headphones in my ears and turned on my music. I kept a close watch on my surroundings, making sure I wasn't too close to any of the students still waiting for a ride so that I didn't bump into any of them.  At the same time I made sure I didn't trip over anything by glancing at the ground frequently. All in an attempt not to get noticed or cause a scene.  

I finally made it off of school grounds, feeling relief knowing that I wouldn't pass that many people on the way home, and those I did were most likely too concerned with their own lives to care about mine.

I shivered inside my black sweatshirt, wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to keep warm. I wished I had a jacket to fend off the cold November air, but the average high school student doesn't wear a winter jacket in the middle of November so I wouldn't either.   

My walk continued on with me hugging myself for warmth and occasionally blowing warm air on my freezing fingers. Honestly sometimes I hated New England weather.

I was only a few more streets away from my house when I sensed someone watching me. At first I blew it off as my usual paranoia. But as the feeling continued , I couldn't help but look around. There was no one in sight, save a distant figure who was turning onto another street, in the opposite direction of me. Scolding myself for being unnecessarily worried , I continued on my way home.  

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I didn't live in the nicest part of town. According to what I heard from overhearing other student's conversations at school, the area that I lived in was where all the criminals and drug dealers lived. I was pretty sure they were exaggerating but I guess rumors have to come from somewhere. Though I knew that my neighbors were neither of those, rather they were just people struggling to get by and living here was the cheapest place and they could afford it.

After turning a corner, and passing a few other houses, I came up to my ramshackle home. Like all the other houses it looked as though no one lived there, or at least no one should. The once blue paint was now a faded gray and peeling, and one of the windows had a crack in it, made by an unpleasant local boy. It was basically the size of a small two person apartment, with one bathroom, a combined living room, kitchen and dining room as well as two small bedrooms, all on one floor. It was small but it was home, so I guess I'm stuck with it

I unlocked the door and opened it, wondering why we even bothered to lock it considering it was thin and slightly rotting. I stepped inside as I was hit by a stench of mold, mildew, and alcohol.  As quietly as I could noticing my brother, who was asleep on the couch I made my way to my room, pinching my nose. The mold and mildew I was used to, but I had always hated the smell of alcohol. I made it to my room without making so much of a squeak, which was quite impressive, mind you, considering all of the floorboards creaked when stepped on.

I looked at the clock in my room to see that it was three o'clock. I sat on my bed and began to dig into my piles of homework.

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By seven all of my homework was finished and I was starving. I went to the kitchen, still making sure that I was being extremely quiet.  I looked in the not so cold fridge and found chicken fingers, I took them out and placed them on a pan, then put them  in the old oven. I set a timer for 10 minuets and waited silently for them to be finished, keeping an eye on my still asleep brother.

10 minuets later I was zoned out, lost in my own little world. I had meant to keep a close eye on the timer so that I could turn it off before it started to ring. However, thanks to my apparent short attention span, the timer was now ringing loudly for all to hear, including my brother.

I quickly turned off the timer and took out the chicken fingers using a pot holder, and put them on a plate. Then tried to make a break for  my room. Unfortunately, I was stopped by a large hand on my shoulder, holding me in place.

I turned and looked up to my brother who looked as if he was still half asleep.

"Mayweather, look at you! You've grown so tall! But, hey why are you so thin?" he grabbed my wrist and inspected my arm, "Look at this! Your arm is like a stick! I bet I could just go and snap it in hal-"

"Yup, it's nice to see you too Maddox" I interrupted him, yanking my wrist out of his grasp.

"Awe come on Mayweather, be nice to your big bro. I haven't seen you for like three months!" He said lazily swinging his arms around, apparently he wasn't completely sober yet.

"Well 'bro', I have to finish my homework, there's some chicken on that pan over there if you want some." I said quickly, nodding my head in the direction of the chicken. I turned back around and quickly ran back to the safety of my room.

I sat on the floor eating my chicken and worrying about how I was supposed to deal with him back.

My brother had been a drunk for as long as I could remember. He had started drinking a lot after my mom died when I was young, without her there was really no one to stop him. When I was younger, he would drop me off at our neighbor's house, where Miss Brooks lived. She was a kind elderly woman who was more of a parental figure than my father ever was.

For a good portion of my life, I spent more time at her house than at my own, I even had a bedroom there.  That lasted until I was eleven, when she died in her sleep. You can probably imagine the shock eleven year old me had when she wouldn't wake up, and after calling 911, being told that she was dead. Lets just say I cried, a lot.

So for the past four years I've been pretty much living on my own. The only way I've made it this far was going to soup kitchens and stealing Maddox's money when he came home so he couldn't use it on alcohol and I could use it to by food and once in awhile clothes. 

Feeling tired I put my dish in the sink, took a quick shower and went to bed. Worrying about what would happen tomorrow.

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Hey! I hope you liked the first chapter! I changed it a bit from before (now the dad is the brother).  Please feel free to inform me of any grammar or spelling mistakes that you find. This is my first time ever writing about werewolves so I hope this story goes well! Make sure to tell me what you think!

~Lucelia =)