Different [Completed]

two.*

Different

_______

Desmond woke me up. It was about two in the morning. I was sore from the beating Damon gave me earlier.

"Peridot." He whisper-yelled." Peridot, there's something wrong with me."

Stupid eighteen year old.

"Mhmm." I hummed, about to go to sleep again.

"No seriously," He said again. "I feel high, way to high-" And he fell on to the floor, face first, his bum up in the air.

I left him like that for about five minutes, who knows. He didn't even move. Just a slight jiggle from him breathing.

I pushed him over with a finger. He was fine this morning, bright and jolly. Well, not too bright.

He fell right over, showing me the new disgusting face. His nose was broken, from falling face first. His cheeks were sunken, and he had a grey tint. His eyes were open, but dilated and black.

Not blue.

I screamed.

__

"He's highly drugged on Wolfsbane, sir." The nurse said, seducing. She was wearing a rainbow sticker on her light green outfit.

"From what? From where?" Damon asked, trying to make it seem as if he was a nice, caring person to the shewolf.

"You tell me."

Then it all fell in place. Damon drugged Desmond with wolfsbane.

I gaped at him, but if looks could kill, I would have died.

She injected some medicine into Desmond.

"We'll keep him over night."

_

Dear Desmond,

If you get this, know that I'm gone. No, not as in dead, I've left this evil pack. I would have taken you, but you were ill. I couldn't wait.

Hopefully, your okay now, healthy and alive. If you wonder where I went, to the east and I've followed the brightest star.

Lots of love, hugs and kisses,

-Peri

_

I took nothing, and began running out of the pack house.

Enough was enough.

_

***********

Song of the day: Feeling Myself by will.i.am featuring Miley Cyrus, French Montana and Wiz Khalifa (There's a boy in my class we call Sharks Montana, and he likes to rap. Nobody knows his first name, even the teachers call him Sharks)

I be everywhere, everybody know me

Super, super fresh, what a dope styling

Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck

Givenchy, keep the chickens in check

All these car keys drive them chickens to my crib

Dru Hill got somebody slipping in my bed

She give me IQ, that mean she get a head

I just give the beats, I don't give a bread

'Cause we be in the club

Bottles on deck

And God dammit, God dammit

I'm feeling myself