I'm Back, Did You Miss Me?

Him

Beep

Beep

BEEEEP

My alarm went off, forcing me to wake up and face another day. Not only do I hate mornings, but I hate my life in general. I got up and did the usual before getting dressed. When I check the clock, it's already 5:45, and I realize with a jolt of fear that I am running behind, and people are going to be waking up soon.

At the realization of this, I run downstairs at top speed to make food for the pack. While a usual breakfast might take ten minutes to make, food for the pack takes around 30 solely because of how much food truly needs to be cooked. The breakfast for the pack consists of three packages of bacon, three dozen pancakes, and 15 eggs for whoever wants them.

I snuck three pieces of bacon, an egg, and a pancake for myself first thing in the morning to avoid the others realized I had eaten "their food." By the time I was done and checked the clock it was already 6:30, and it's an hour walk to school.

I'm not allowed to drive or catch a ride because I'm apparently an omega, and the pack thinks its fun to torture me as much as possible. As I am walking to school, several of the pack kids drive by honking their horns and yelling at me in a taunt. All I want to do is rip their eyes out and shove it down their throats so they can see me slowly rip their bowls out with my claws, but, instead, I keep my head down and keep walking.

By the time I make it to school, there are only five minutes left until the bell rings. It took me a little bit slower to get to school today as every step caused my leg to ache and bark in pain. I had bruises of hands all over my arms and thighs, and I think my leg was fractured last night. If I didn't have the fast healing of a werewolf, I would be dead from the abuse. I wish I were.

I make my way to class as quickly as possible and try to make it through another day without my wolf causing more trouble for me. I keep my head low while avoiding eye contact and pretending to be the perfect little submissive pet. Even the thought sends a course of venom and unending fiery rage through my veins that makes me want to tear this world apart atom by atom until there is nothing left.

Being part of this pack is like having a target painted on my back. While the humans leave me alone, the pack teenagers torment me endlessly. One by one, I register the scents of every teen that shoulder checks me then growls watch it. I know who torments me the most and have my list ready to take each and every single one out, the second I get the chance. Maybe I will burn the entire packhouse and seal everyone inside, including myself.

As I am lost in thought thinking of the arson, I will never commit another person bumps into me, but they decide it would be more fun to hit me as hard as they can. I get checked into the wall and hear the snickers of the humans that saw. Normally, my thoughts and temper are quite controlled, but the fact that I have been thinking of so much homicide has gotten my wolf Stormy ready to surface and even readier to rip some throats out.

Not only am I in public, but I am also legally bound to be unable to shift unless I want to die on the spot. Some witch placed that law on werewolves after too many wolves lost control and almost exposed our kind and the supernatural world to the human race completely. But, I also have hidden the fact that I can shift from my pack. A werewolf typically shifts for the first time between the ages of 16 to 18, and if they don't shift by the time they are 18, they are deemed more human than wolf and kicked from the pack. That is one of the reasons why I have been bullied for so long; I haven't shifted yet according to the pack. I am practically a month away from 18, and once I haven't shifted yet, according to them, they either kick me from the pack or kill me.

Either way I can finally be done with all of it. I still have this fear that if I don't let them know I have shifted by 18, they will keep me just to have as a pet to torture. If it comes down to that, I don't know what I will do. I have a bag packed in case I need to leave very quickly, but I am so tempted to unleash myself upon them. I want to show them just what they have been messing with for years, but that is only if I have to break the promise I gave my mom before she died ten years ago.