Ever since I was born, I knew I wasn't normal. I could do things that kids my age could only dream of. I was good at everything. Sports, school, writing, reading, everything. And that's why all the kids hated me. I never felt accepted. I always heard them talking behind my back. 'Look at that Turner kid.' they would say. 'Yeah, she thinks she's so great, while she's just another loser.' They would lock me up in bathrooms, push me, poke me, throw me in mud. I dreamt of leaving Beacon Hills. But, there was this one boy that I was friends with. I was kind of a tomboy. I never liked playing with girls. Anyways, that boys name was Scott. Scott was a weird guy. He wasn't rude like every other guy. I guess he just accepted people as they are. Scott and I thought we would be friends forever, but when my mom and dad died in a car accident when i was 5, we had to say goodbye. It was really weird going to my uncle's in Los Angeles. I mean, I never knew anything but Beacon Hills. Though I never saw my uncle, I thought he could never replace my parents. But he became more important to me than any other person in the world. I never really forgot about Scott. We never talked from that moment. I guess we were too young to understand how important friendship actually is. I liked my new school. The people there were nice. There were a few bad apples, but high school isn't high school without a few bullies and bitches, right? Well, it was all normal until my 10th birthday. I guess you could say up until then, I was a weird kid. Well, on that day I became just a little bit weirder. I always believed in fairies, vampires, ghosts and stuff like that. Actually, looking back at it, I'm not surprised people didn't wanna hang out with me. Anyways, I never celebrated my birthday. Not just because I didn't have anyone to invite, but I hated parties and big crowds. I would usually just celebrate it with my uncle. He would get a cake or we would go to Disneyland together. This birthday wasn't an exception. I woke up to a present on my bedside table. When I opened it, I saw a book about werewolves. It wasn't a normal present, you could say. You know when you read a book and it's too graphics? Like a gay porno fanfic or something like that? I mean, I couldn't make that comparison when I was ten, but yeah. This book was like gay porn with pictures of werewolves eating people.
'Uncle Bob, what is this?' I asked, obviously confused.
'It's a book.' he said.
'Oh, really? I thought it was a Barbie doll.' I was obviously a sarcastic little fuck back then.
He laughed.
'You know how when you were young you could run faster than anyone, you could do things other kids couldn't do?'
'Yeah, I remember. Those are the reasons I was bullied.'
'Well, you were a special child. You weren't like everyone else. You still aren't. Your parents told me I should keep this a secret from you until you were ready. I think you're ready now.'
'What?' I remember being on the edge of my bed really confused. I mean, you would be too.
'This isn't really easy to explain, but do you see those werewolves in that book. The ones that are eating people?'
I nodded.
'You're one of them, sweetie.'
My uncle, before he passed away, said that he never saw anyone make the face that I made that very moment. He said it was a mixture of a smile and confusion.
'I'm a cannibal?!' I screamed.
He laughed like I never saw him laugh before.
'No, honey, you're a werewolf.'
It took me a few minutes to let it sink in. I asked myself do I really believe that or is that just a prank to make me look stupid? My uncle looked so serious, I decided to believe him. I mean, who lies about this kind of stuff?
Only crazy people.
'Really?' I asked.
'You see, your father was a werewolf, as was his father. You're the next generation. Ever since you were born, your parents were worried your skills would just slow you down and confuse you. But you were a very weird kid werewolf.'
'But how could you keep that a secret from me?'
'You'll thank me later.' he said.
After that morning my life hasn't been the same. Unlike other kids, I would come home from school and do werewolf training. I still thought I was crazy. That became my life for 5 years, until one day I came home from school to an ambulance in front of our house. I dropped my bag on the floor and ran inside the house. The first thing I saw killed me. My uncle was lying on the floor, lifeless. I'll never forget that moment, nor will I ever get that picture out of my head. The only person that helped me, that cared about me, lying dead in a puddle of blood. I never forgave myself for not protecting him. I never forgave myself for not being there for him like he was for me. I thought no one could cheer me up like he did. Not even a moment passed and I was on a car back to Beacon Hills. They sent me to the only living relative I had. My aunt, Mary. She is my aunt on my mom's side of the family, so she doesn't know anything about werewolves, especially that I am one. I continued my training by myself. That summer passed really quickly. And before I knew it, school began.
