Alex is a broken girl. She is abused by many people. Most of her life was like this. But one day, she meets Adam. He claims he's a werewolf and that she is his mate.
But she doesn't know what a mate is! Wait for her 17 birthday though. Something ha...
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Adams house
'Alex's POV'
After gym is over I head down to chemistry. I walk down the stairs ignoring everyone who is laughing at me. I swing open the door and look at the teacher, mr. Turner. Sleeping again. I walk down the rows of chairs and find a seat in the middle of the back row. I pull out my notebook and start to draw. I draw some curved lines and make them straight.
I connect my lines and finally, I'm finished.
I turn the page and start on another one, only to have it ripped out if my hands by Ryan. He looks through my notebook and laughs. "These are horrible!" I look down at my desk with a red face. "Stop" I mumble. "What?" He asks " I said stop." I say louder. My confidence is a little higher than usual. He starts laughing quietly then it gets louder until he's full on laughing. "Excuse me?" "Y-you heard me" i say as my confidence starts slowly falling. "No. But I did hear this" he chuckles darkly and punches me in the face.
A loud crack is heard around the room as I fall on the ground. Pain jolting across my face. I feel a liquid running down my nose. Blood. I think to myself. I touch right under my nose and feel the red liquid fall off my face. I wipe my nose with my sleeve and leave to the bathroom.
I walk in and look in the mirror. My nose is crooked and there is a red line of blood on my lips and down my chin. I rest my palms on the edge and shake my head. "Why me?" I ask to no one in particular. "Why why why. What did I ever do?" I wipe my glassy eyes and grab a paper towel and soak it in water.
I wipe my face and then dry it
I reach into my pocket and grab my blade. I take it out and run my finger across the blade. It stings and then I apply pressure and soon enough more blood is coming out of my body.
It drips into the sink and then I move the blade over to my wrists.
I cut them a few times and then run them under water. I clean up and sit on the floors, my back against the wall,and just cry. I cry for my mom, for my life, and for the world. My mom died when I was little. And it was my fault.
"Mommy,can we go get ice cream after we're done playing?Please mommy, please?" My 6 year old self asks my mom. She was beautiful. Long brown hair with natural blonde highlights and deep ocean blue eyes. She wore a long flowing floral sun dress. " I dunno honey. The streets are really busy today." She said. She had and apologetic smile on her face. " We'll be fine mommy. Right daddy?" "Princess if momma says yes you can get Ice cream, but if she says no that means no" he says
