Super Wolf

Chapter 7

Dedicated to katieo824  for reading and voting. I really appreciate it! 

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A fire alarm. A family emergency. Someone having a tumultuous nightmare next door. Yourself having a tumultous nightmare. 

These are some plausible reasons to be lacking sleep. All irksome, yes, but reasonable. 

But in my family, its almost a rule: You will be deprived of your sleep, by not only vexating circumstances, but unneccessary and unreasonale circumstances. 

For example: 

When I crawled into my bed that night, I was exhausted. I stripped off my sweater and skinny jeans, tugged my long curly brown hair out of its pony tail, and ducked under my covers with a moan of pleasure. My muscles were so sore. It felt so nice to have the plush mattress relax them... 

I wasn't even asleep when I felt the warm liquid being spread across my upper lip, shocking me fully awake. Before my eyes could even focus I knew who the perpetrator was, and I instantly grabbed her wrist. 

Anger boiled to the surface as I opened my eyes, to find my very guilt looking mother. 

She was caught red handed. For the third time this month. 

"Brinley Amber, we do not manhandle family members!" my flustered mother chastised, looking pointedly at her wrist which I was gripping tightly. 

"Because you are Miss Ettiquette," I said, narrowing my eyes in on her. 

"Mrs. to you!" she gasped. "And I do know that it is impolite to flaunt your mustache to others." I released her wrist as I let out a growl. 

Oh, are you confused?

How I wish this were such a foreign concept to me as it might be to normal kids; unfortunatley, this was not the first time my mother had attempted to wax my mustache in my sleep. Not that it was even visible from the human eye, and barely from the werewolf eye. My hair was a dark brown, but  most of my body hair was light blonde from the sunlight. I would admit to a small amount of delicate blonde hairs on my upper lip... but no worse than they were all over the rest of my body. 

"Its peach fuzz!" I yelled, causing her eyes to spark with anger. In the brief moment I brought my hands to cover my lips, she pushed them away. Before I could react, she had patted the paper across my waxed upper lip. I snarled. "You. Did. Not." Now I would have no choice but to rip it off.

"No daughter of mine will be mistaken for a man ever again!" she screamed with determination ringing in her voice, reaching to tear it off my lip. 

"It was one time!" I screamed, pinning my mother's hands above her head. "And it was only because I was dressed as a man FOR HALLOWEEN!" I should have known that was a bad idea. Here I thought it would be cute if I answered the door as a male, tricking the kids when my voice would come out feminine, but my psychotic mother goes and decides that I have 'gender confusion'. 

"I want grandchildren!" she yelled her war-cry, as she ripped the wax paper off my lip with her teeth. Let me repeat that just once for emphasis: my mother just ripped wax off of my face with her teeth. I howled in protest, releasing her wrists to caress my throbbing lip. 

Victoriously, she spit the waxy paper out of her mouth, with a smug smile set on her lips. I frantically searched for my weapon of choice. 

Ha! 

Right next to my bedside was the tub of wax, with the spreading popsicle still in it. In a quick motion, I flicked wax across my mother's entire eyebrow. Instantly her face turned to one of dread, displeased by my act of revenge.