Silver Lining (A Werewolf Tale)

1. Weeping Willow

A/N: Before you read this has been formally known as Hallelujah by lonly-wolf. I've taken on the book as my own but will revise and edit the rest of the first three chapters before continuing onwards with this wonderful story. Also there were some minor changes, hope you guys enjoy it and don't forget to vote, and comment.

--Tyler P.O.V--

I just wanted to run.
Run away from everyone, from every single thing. It was like I was put on earth to endure a life of misery and pain. And all this started after my mother left my father. After she'd left us he'd began to drink hard and heavy everyday and that's when the abuse started, and has been happening to me ever since. My sister, Claire, had also been left behind with me with our good for nothing father. But eventually having enough of the daily share of beatings she left. She promised me over and over again that she would try and get me out of fathers grasp the day she escaped from our personal hell, yet I was still here suffering. She never came like she promised and part of me hated her for it while the other half envied her because I knew deep down she was somewhere having a good new life away from our abusive father.

I wasn't born a mute, but it seemed when my father gave me daily beatings and used me like no father should EVER use their son I grew quieter and quieter. He'd taken everything from me, he even took my voice. I just wanted a different life, or taking my life would be even better. It isn't like it would make a difference, no one cared for me I mean look at my selfish mother and sister, they got out the first chance they got and never came back or cared about my safety. I was just that boy, that one boy that was different from the rest. That one boy, whose father raped, beaten, and broke. That boy that had nothing left, and that boy - once I committed suicide - who was pathetic for taking his own life instead of fighting. "Just give it a year. Once I've turned 18 I'll finally be free. Free from everyone. From everything. I'll get a new beginning, and never have to look back or see his face again". I thought everyday to myself, but how would I be able to live that long? How long would it take me to get from his deadly grasp?

When I awoke I found myself on the floor, uncovered, and completely naked with dried blood all over me. Everything on my body hurt, it was like I had been lifting weights none stop. Slowly, to not make anything worst, I got up taking my half ripped discarded clothes into my hands. I glanced to see my so called father passed out on the bed. His pants were off, and so were his boxers. I made a face of disgust as I slowly crept by making sure not to wake up the beast who I called my father. Quickly I walked out of the room, down the stairs and down to the kitchen to get started on making his breakfast - this was one of two ways I could make the beatings less painful. It took quite long to finish as he liked his bacon extra crispy, but once I was done with all the cooking and cleaning I went to take a shower. This time around I made sure to lock the door - I didn't need him joining me in the shower like he usually did, just thinking about it made me cringe. Letting the pain in my body slowly subside I stripped down, I looked myself over thoroughly in the shattered mirror, and I hated what I saw. I was pale and looked malnourished, my golden hair was a wild untamable mess with dried blood matted to it, my eyes - which were different as my right eye was dark blue with a hue of lavender purple, and my left eye was emerald green -  were dull and had bags that made me look as if I'd missed sleeping for two weeks. I glanced back down to my pale body - to not see the sadness in my eyes. All along my pale thin body were bruises, cuts, and even burn marks and every wound on my flesh and in my hearts core were caused by the man I called my father. I hate who I am, I hated what I've become. I turned around to get a hesitant look at my back, and all I saw were the belt marks my father inflicted on me were getting infected, even the gashes from the whip he'd gotten and used on me last night were getting their fair share of an infection. However the bruises were, from my knowledge, they weren't going to easily heal and I'd probably need to go to the doctor, but father dearest wouldn't allow that.