Broken

Chapter One

Tamara's POV

   My eyes flew open. I slowly sat up and took in my surroundings. "Shit," I cursed softly. I had woken up in a bed of leaves on the floor of Moonlight Woods. Again. It was becoming quite a habit; a habit which could be dangerous if ever the Alpha of the Moonlight Pack was to find me. Being a rogue werewolf isn't the most glamourous thing in the world. Especially being a female rogue werewolf. It isn't easy most of the time. I have to live alone on the edge of a woods which is homed to one of the most power werewolf packs in England. Hiding my exsistance becomes increasingly harder for me each day.

   Luckily for me my log cabin wasn't too far from here, a good job seems as I was completely naked. The shift from wolf back to human isn't the most pleasant change. Bones crunch, yelps of pain echo, and instead of a graceful and elegant wolf, you get a completely naked human being who is smeared with blood and mud , who's hair is knotted and who is exhausted from shifting. Unfortunately for me, I tend to get halfway home after shifting back and then I pass out for hours, something which is neither graceful nor elegant, unlike my wolf.

   I carefully picked myself up off of the floor, making sure that no-one was around. It was now full daylight and the risk of being seen runs much higher than it does at sunrise. As soon as I was sure that it was safe I made a run for my cabin, expertly weaving in and out of trees. I reached the damp log cabin which I call 'home' and quickly went inside, relieved that I was out of the woods.  

   Let me explain myself. My name is Tamara Jones and I just turned fifteen years old. I have been a rogue werewolf since I was ten years old, when I was kicked out of my pack. Both my parents were dead. I was innocent and defenseless and the older pack members took advantage of that. At the time I hadn't yet shifted and so, was considered to be 'a waste of time and space' if I remember rightly. Female wolves who don't shift are considered to be of less value than female wolves who can shift into wolf form. The first shift for women usually occurs at the age of six or seven. Since I was ten and still hadn't shifted it was assumed that I never would. Ever since my parents had died I had been treated with no respect. The older members liked to make me work like a slave for them and starve me just because they found it fun. Since I didn't hold any value within the pack, when they decided that I would never shift they told me to leave as I was only in the way, as I wasn't wanted, as I was only a worthless 'possession', one that could easily be replaced. I've been alone ever since.

   The first time I shifted into my wolf form was when I was twelve years old. I was alone in Moonlight woods, it was before what is now known as the Moonlight Pack inhabited the woods. I was talking a walk one cold night in November when I suddenly began to feel terribly nauseous. My gut twisted inside me. I was in so much pain that I almost passed out. Instead, I threw up which was a very unsightly event. My bones began to crack and crunch; all I could do was cry out in pain. I didn't know at the time that I was shifting, as far as I knew it was technically impossible for a female of my age to shift for the first time. Yet, when my bones finally stopped crunching and my gut finally stopped twisting, I stood in the form of a wolf. A pure white wolf. A pure white wolf was very rare, but then again so was a female shifter. I know of only one other female shifter. She was the alpha's mate when I lived in the Pack. But I try not to think of that Pack anymore. After all, they did kick me out when I was ten.

   I grabbed myself a towel and went to the bathroom. I stood at the mirror and took in my image. I looked a mess. My hair was stuck to my face with dry mud, clumps of it were tangled together. My right eye was swollen and black. There was a small gash just above the temple on the right-hand side of my head which had been bleeding, I now had dried blood down the side of my face and splattered on my chest. I looked down to assess the rest of my body. there were only a few scratches and bruises. Although, my hands been cut to shreds. I hadn't noticed but blood was still seeping from the wounds and dripping on to the clean tiled floor. "Fuck it," I curse. I did my best to turn on the cold tap and shove my hands under the running water. It stung horrifically but I didn't move, I didn't even flinch at the pain. The water ran from my hands and into the sink, disgustingly discoloured from the blood. I cleaned my wounds the best I could. I'd deal with them properly later.

   Slipping my hand around the shower curtain, I slowly managed to bring the the shower to life. Water pumped from the head of the shower. Delicate crystal beads of water danced toward the bath tub, gentle waves of steam erupting from them. I stepped into bath tub and then under the shower, the tumbling water caressing my body. The warm water felt like heaven on my skin, I forgot about my troubles and strife for just a moment as I relaxed. I washed my body, I prefer my scent to be of something sweet like orchids or orange, or I like something seductive, something which is unlike the sickly scent of pine trees and the putrid smell of the Lake deep within Moonlight Woods. I latherwd a soft scented Jasmine Aqua Lily body wash on my body, furiously trying to rid myself of the scent of Moonlight Woods. I eventually managed to do just that and then began to wash my hair. A horrific task. I shampooed my hair trying to ignore the fact that my hands were burning and stinging; protesting again my use of body wash and shampoo on the them. I washed my hair as quickly as possible making sure I got all of the mud and blood out. Once I was satisfied I flipped the handle, turning the shower off and stepped out of the bath tub.

   Towel wrapped securely around my body, I went through to my bedroom in search of clothes. I found a pair of tight fitting jeans and a black tank top which barely covered my red lace bra let alone my stomach. The outfit I had on now was the one of only outfit I had been able to afford since becoming rogue. I couldn't afford to eat so buying new clothes was completely off the table. I despised the fact that I couldn't afford to be comfortable but it was something I had lived with my whole life.

   When I see girls who complain because the designer bag they have recieved as a present from their parents isn't the exact model they wanted it really pisses me off. They take luxury and comfort for granted. I on the other hand have to make do with clothes that are torn, tattered and too small. Not to mention that most of the tops I own are sized 8-9, 9-10 or, if I'm lucky 10-11 years. It's a good job I didn't decide to throw them out when I noticed they were getting too small or I wouldn't own any clothes.

   Another thing that pisses me off: girls that throw their lunch away or refuse breakfast. Do they actually realise that some people would kill for that food. I certainly would. I actually can't remember the last time I ate. My stomach growls at me everytime I see something edible. My own problem is that I can't afford to satisfy its emptiness. My weight has dropped dangerously low and because of it I pass out a lot. It's the reason I pass out after shifting. Running as a wolf uses so much energy, energy I just don't happen to have. It really pisses me off when I decide to take a walk to try and relax myself but pass out and then wake up to an ambulance crew trying to force me into hospital. Hospitals just don't bode well with me.

   Thinking about how ungrateful kids today are makes me feel depressed and then that makes me feel depressed about being depressed. It's a vicious cycle.

   I brushed my hair slowly, ridding it of each and every knot. Satisfied, I go back into the bathroom and take my first aid supplies out of the cupboard. I found two medium wound dressings and two crepe bandages. I unwrapped one of the wound dressings and pressed it firmly into my hand. I quickly wrapped one of the bandages around the dressing, my hand and my wrist twisting the end under the edge of the bandage. I repeated the process on the other hand and then find something more substantial to secure the bandages. Finally, I found some micropore tape. I untucked the end of one of the bandages and flattened it out. I wrapped the tape around around my wrist a couple of times before biting the end and ripping it off. I again repeated the procedd on my other wrist. Done, I thought to myself.

    Tired, beaten up and starving; I decided to take a break and lie down. At last, I thought to myself. Sleep. I closed my eyes and it didn't take long before I drifted off to sleep.