They say it's greater to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I would agree, only, I don't know what it's like to be loved. Every punch, kick, slap is just more proof to me that love, in a world like this, doesn't exist. When you look in the mirror, you see a normal human being but, underneath that damned disguise there's really a monster. Although that is literal for my kind, we all have monsters inside of us. The spite and the jealousy that overcomes our senses, the anger that boils over. It's all evidence that we are never safe from our darkest secrets which we refuse to let escape our lips. On the outside, you see a teenage girl. On the inside, there's a raging beast. One that even I don't know how to tame anymore.
And yet, we take it all lying down, refusing to stand up for ourselves. Why? Why do we let them trample over our dreams? So what if they call me fat? So what if I'm ugly, shy and a loner. I'd much rather be any one of those things than to have to starve myself or to cake my face with toxic make up.
But I'm tired of it all. The constant pretending to be something, or rather, someone I'm not. When children look at me in the street, they cringe away, burrowing into their mother's coats as if that'll protect them from me. But can you ever really protect yourself from something that lurks in your soul?
I trip again, falling flat on my face, in front of everyone. I can feel my face turning red and I push up onto my forearms. I let my shoulder length, dark brown hair fall around my face like a curtain in an attempt to hide my embarassement. I mutter a curse in my mind and try to stand up, wiping my now dirty hands on my baggy jeans in the process. I can hear people sniggering at me from all directions. Oh great. I groan inwardly-Yet another thing they can mock me with. I sigh and crouch down to pick up my scattered books. I feel someone shove me from behind and I go flying forward again. My head bounces off of the pavement and I feel something warm and sticky trickling down my head. My hand goes flying up to it and my stomach churns at the sight. Blood. Ugh.
I see a shadow looming at me from my position on the ground so I look up and into the eyes of Jason Brady, the Alpha's son and future alpha, scowling at me.
"You're in my way. Move, Bitch!" He shouts at me. Crowds have started to gather around us. I rush to pick my books up and move out of his way but I obviously didn't move fast enough as he grabs my hair and jerks it suddenly, pulling at me already bloody scalp. I let out a cry of pain. Fuck that hurts!
"I told you to MOVE! You stupid whore! You can't even follow one order! How can you expect to be in a pacl when you can't even follow one thing I said!" He shouts, even angrier now. I stutter out a sorry. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my brother, Logan, moving to where we are. For a moment, my spirits lift in the hope that he's come to help me. My happiness dies when I see him sneer at me.
"Slut! You're a pathetic excuse for a wolf!" He shouts, obviously embarressed that he's related to me. It's true, I haven't yet gotten my wolf. I should have technically gotten it 5 years ago when I was 9 but I'd never shifted. I don't know why but ever since then, Ive been labelled as the outcast. I began comfort eating to compensate for having no friends and thats the reason I'm like this today- the fat one, the nerd, the outcast. Even my own family hates me. I'm snapped back from my own little world by my brother's voice
"Go die in a hole bitch!" He screams at me. Tears well up in my eyes. I knew he hated me but I never he hated me that much. Jason slams me back into the wall then lets me go and watches me fall to the ground before laughing and walking off with his friends.
*******
I run through the woods till I reach the pack house then pull open the door slamming it behind me. I know that everyone's either at work, at school or sleeping so I have about 3 hours before anyone gets back. I run down to the basement where my bed (if you can call a matress with a sheet and a pillow a bed) is and run over to beside it where my backpack is. I quickly stuff everything I own in the bag which doesn't take long as I only have a few tops and a pair of jeans, things I had to steal from shops as my 'parents' refused to buy me anything. I then shove my hand underneath my matress and pull out the $500 or so stashed there that I took out of my bank when I was first outcast. I'd had a feeling I would need it one day and I was right.
Once I've done, I run upstairs, into my brother's room, and grab his spray paints from under his bed where they're hidden from mum and go back into the basement. How dare they hurt me like they do. Well, no more. I smirk as I paint the walls with my message. Once I'm done, I step back, appreciating my handiwork before running off into the woods towards my happy ending.
*********
Jason's POV
God! Where the fuck is that little bitch?! I called her name 3 times since I walked through the door and she still hasn't acknowledged me. How dare she ignore the demands of her future alpha. I storm down to the basement and force the door open. I'm so angry that it takes me a minute to register the writing on the wall. I feel the blood drain from my face as I run upstairs calling for Logan over and over again. I find him in the kitchen making a sandwich. Before he can question why I'm so pale and frantic looking, I grab his arm, pulling him towards the basement and making him drop his sandwich by accident.
"Dude! What the fuck? I'm hungry!" He says
"Shut up" I growl lowly at him. I don't know why I feel so agitated. I've always hated her so why have I suddenly become worried? It doesn't make any sense at all. I shove him down the steps.
We both stare at the message, letting it sink in for a while
Well, assholes, here you go. You both wanted me to go die so now you've got your wish. I'll go find a cliff or something to jump off of.
See ya never
Samantha
We're in deep shit
YOU ARE READING
My Turn, Mate
WerewolfSamantha Flynn is a Werewolf. She's heard all the stories about her own kind from her books but they are all lies. The ones that say that your pack has to love you? Lies. That is just bullshit that dreaming writers believe. As a young girl, Samantha...