Cat Lover But a Wolf Lover Too. (werewolf lovestory) [Under Construction!!!]

A New day, New beginning.... probably not Chapter 2

I try not to talk much at school. I can talk to some people in my family, but even then its limited. Over the years it seems every time words leave my mouth, I always say the wrong thing or people would misinterpret what I was saying. Conveying ones internal thoughts into  spoken monologue was something I was not very good at. In prior years to me entering high school, I did have a couple friends, but they never lasted long.  So I guess you could say I'm a select mute and a little antisocial. Its a beautiful combo to have when beginning freshman year. It was also the best way to attract unwanted attention from those to enjoy exploiting people for their weaknesses. 

 I guess they could tell I was an easy target for them the second my foot touched down on the schools soil. I believe it was because they wanted a new toy to play with, so they choose to pick on a freshman. Moving to a new town, enrolling in a new school is tough enough, throw in some standard bulling and you got yourself a great time. I was never good at having social interactions with others, even when I tried to not to have a presence, they still found me. 

I was very standard looking. Curly blonde hair, blue eyes,  and 5'7. I don't dress too out of the ordinary, mainly just a nice pair of mom jeans. I thought I could just blend in with crowd at school and time would just melt away. And before I knew it, senior year would come. I'd be walking at my graduation, which would be the start of my new beginning. But now, it feels like that day is light years away. 

Beginning school wasn't going to be easy and I new that. In the mix of trying to find my classes, avoiding any sort of eye contact and just trying to blend in. There they were. lurking in the shadows, waiting for someone to show one ounce of weakness. I had the the displeasure to somehow got onto their radar. Lucky me.

 Their names were Ashley. A trio of grotesque self entitled females who find joy in tormenting others. A collective group that were just carbon copies of each other and who's names were all Ashley. Even though we're in High school, I have many speculations about how much work they may have gotten done. Boob jobs, Botox, and maybe even hair transplants. I have been the source of entertainment for these bleach blonde bimbos for a couple years now. They were only one grade above mine, so I guess that made me an even easier target for them. What started out as meaning less pranks freshman year have now escalated into full blown torment in my junior year. 

So my day started out like any other;

First period, found rotten food in my locker. By third period, they did their standard tripping in the hallway. That got a few laughs. Then by sixth period, the entire school knew another one of their very creative rumors. This time I believe it was my family is so poor that we have to go dumpster diving for food.

It never gets old. 

Most days you can find me under the protection of the Art room. The strong aroma of tempera and acrylic paints seems to keep the Ashley's at bay. I lucked out this year by have a couple different art classes amongst my other standard curriculum. I hide out in here during lunch too, the time between classes is when the Ashley's strike. 

After another excruciating day at school, I was now in my seventh period class. Mrs. Hue was describing the importance of layering watercolor to some first years, while I was finishing up another one of my splatter paintings that even Jackson Pollock would be proud of. Who knew the pent up frustrations of high school would help me be very expressive in art class. Once I was satisfied with the array of multi colored blotches, I laid it out to dry and began cleaning up my work space. After all the residual paint was cleaned off the table,  I spent the last of the class time watching  the day was slowly coming to its close;  3,2,1.....RING! I was up and out of my seat before the second bell had a chance to ring. 

I typically use the exit that was in the back of school. Most the students here were unaware of its existence, which I used to my advantage. I rounded the corner to be greeted by the dark hallway that seemed to lead on forever. I calmly  continued down the hall until the door was in my sight.  I looked forward to busting that disgusting, pealing green door open to  freedom. My hand grasped the handle and I began to pull the door towards me. But just as the sunshine began to breakaway the darkness, the light was ripped away. A hand had quickly reached around me and firmly closed the door. Time seemed to slow down as I began my dramatic turn to see who halted my exit, but I had feeling of whom it could be. I didn't even notice. How could I not notice that they had been following me this entire time?