The Werewolf Girl (Camren)

Chapter 1: The Burned Child

Lauren's POV:

February 20, 2015

I shot up in bed, cold sweat dripping down my body. Trying to catch my breath I turn around and kick the thin sheets off my heated skin. I look around my room and sigh in relief when I realize that it was just my never ending nightmare.

It's always the same dream, about the awful event that changed my whole life forever. The night I became an orphan, the night I turned into a werewolf. The whole circumstances of the situation ended my childhood and forced me to become an adult who takes care of themselves.

I was fifteen. It was important to my parents to raise me so I would become a very independent person. To have my own opinion in life, be critic and don't believe everything people try to feed my mind. I could take care of myself and our house but it still doesn't mean that I don't miss them like crazy. Living on your own without anyone is hard. I had just started high school when it happened. The time of our life where we change a lot and try to find out who we truly are and who we want to be in life.

Now four years later I'm a senior in high school still trying to find out what to do in life. My mother was a medical examiner and my father used to be an orthopedic surgeon. I thought a lot about following in their footsteps but if I'm being honest I'm not the best at interacting emotion-wise with people, especially patients or the families of the patients that wouldn't make it. I'm not made for the typical everyday life of a doctor.

I push the thoughts of my uncertain adult life aside and climb out of my bed. I will graduate high school first and then work on this issue but for now I need a refreshing shower to get rid of the cold sweat.

Entering the connected bathroom I strip off my boxers and shirt before hitting the cold shower. Looking around the bathroom I slowly relax underneath the cold water. My parents loved the nature. Even though we could have easily bought an expensive villa in the city just a few Kilometers outside Silverwood they wanted to build their own house, here deep in the woods so I would grow up in a quiet environment just like my mom did. My mother was never really used to big cities, her father was a farmer and they lived on the quiet countryside of Belgium.

My parents' house is built of lots of natural building materials like wood, stone and glass. The house contains lots of luxuries. I grew up around money. Don't get me wrong when I say this but it never really meant anything to me. Of course I know that there are many people out there struggling and if they would have the things I have they could live their best life. But what does money, cars, jewelry or an expensive lifestyle actually mean when you have no one to share it with. No Family, friends or partner.

It was always important to my parents that I'm modest about the things we have and not to let the money get too much into my head. They never came from money, they worked hard for it and they raised me with the mindset 'If you want something then work for it.'

After 'that night' I cleaned out the whole house, I threw nearly everything out because I couldn't bear to be reminded of it every time I looked around the house. The memories hurt. I bought some new furniture, cleaned out my parents' bedroom and offices. I colored most walls in the house black or grey because I can't keep on looking at the bright colors my mom picked to make our house homely. It was a long time ago that my house felt like a home to me.

I keep the house, yard and our vehicles clean by myself because I know my parents hated chaos but if I'm being honest there's not a lot to keep clean. The only rooms I spent my time in are my bedroom, the car garage and the basement studio. I love to work on the cars and motorcycles or just to create some music. I'm not a professional I just do it for myself. I'm far too untalented to work for artists or labels.