Werewolf Bodyguard

Stupid Ball

Here's chapter two.

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MATT

Seventeen years later.....

I woke up in a cold sweat, sheets tangled around my long legs. My sleep filled eyes shot open to reveal blurry surroundings. I was completely disoriented as my head whipped back and forth, desperately trying to clear my clouded thoughts and vision. I was in such a panic that I slipped over the edge of the bed, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Where my hip connected with the floor, a bruise began to form and throb. I laid there with an arm thrown over my forehead as my senses returned to me slowly.

After a few minutes of me staring at the ceiling, my stomach made its presence known with an audible growl. I sighed dramatically. I'm always hungry. I don't know if it's the double dose of werewolf genes or just my size, but the extent of my hunger never ceases to amaze me. I untangled my legs from the sheets and heave myself to my feet.

I glanced around at the dark, drab features of my hotel room, interrupted only by my clothes and possessions that littered the room. Instead of dwelling on this subject, I went to the mini kitchen over in the corner of the large sized room. I pulled eggs out of the small fridge before turning to the stove. I brought the pan out and sprayed it with Pam then turned the stove on, placing the cookware on top in one smooth motion. As I cooked my breakfast, I let my mind wander as my body moved in auto-pilot.

The nightmare was still fresh in my mind, something I wish otherwise. It was of me, five years old again, sitting in the corner crying as Ralph slit my parents throats. I know, creepy. And totally unrealistic seeing as I never actually saw the act. I just assumed that's how it would have happened, I guess which is weird. I hated the memory and the nightmare, so I pushed those thoughts firmly away and flipped my beautifully made eggs onto a plate.

I grabbed a fork from the clean side of the sink and ate my eggs in less than ten seconds and put my plate in the sink. I took a quick shower and dressed in a pair of tan shorts that stopped just below my knees, a blue shirt that said 'In your dreams!' and black converse. Clothes that would help me fit in. God knows I need to with my height. The mirror caught my attention as I was walking past. I gazed into it as I assessed my appearance. My eyes were more green than hazel today. My hair was too long; I needed it cut. I had dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping. There were a number of things wrong that I could point out but it would have to do.

I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. I didn't really need the keys. It was just a habit I was finding hard to break. My ride was currently collecting dust as it sat in my friend Tim's garage. He had put it there after graciously pointing out that the car I have isn't common enough for me to use her. Now I'm rideless and walking everywhere. I put my hands in my pockets as I took a left down an alley. If I was correct, I was heading for a club Tim now went to. He had recently changed his obsession from Buddhism to something that involves suffering to understand true joy. All I know is that he's not allowed to eat meat, enjoy sweets, or have sex. I, for one, couldn't do it. I'm a candy junkie.

I reached the end of the alley and turned right as instructed prior to see a metal door covered with graffiti. Oh the cliché. I knocked once...twice...a third and forth in the specified pattern and not two seconds later a metal slat slid back to reveal two amber eyes. They were large and obviously female. They appraised me quickly before the slat slid back into place. Without warning, the door was opened and blaringly loud music attacked my ear drums. I covered my ears and tool a few retreating steps back. Tim appeared in the doorway with an ever present smile on his face. It fell slightly when he saw my face. He turned around and yelled, "Yo! Turn the music down!"It was still loud but bearable.