Blood Love and Werewolves

Foster

Casey's PoV

After my father threw the plate and cut me I called the police. I knew they would think something was up if I didn't go to the hospital or that my blood wasn't red, so I hid in the basement under a few boxes. I know what your thinking 'under boxes? that's impossible' but in reality there is a secret door underneath a rug and the rug is underneath a few boxes. We have a secret basement to hide from werewolf attacks. Ugh, I hate werewolves. They are the reason my mother is dead.

When the police got there they arrested my father. And when they called for me to come out, I did as I was told. The bleeding had stopped so I covered the wound with my leggings.

_______________________________

The next morning I woke up in a bed surrounded by other beds. It looked like prison, or at least to me. The windows were barred and the doors, all except the bathroom, were locked.

I heard the clicking of heals coming down the hall and I ran to my bed and sat down. A woman came in holding a large tray of food. Then it seemed to last for about an hour, men came in holding identical trays. Lastly a large buff male came into view and yelled at the other people, "Wake up you lazy kids, we got work to do. UP, UP, UP."

All of the girls scrambled to get out of bed first. The woman motioned for me to come to her once all of the boys were out of their beds. I was obedient and came up to her. She spoke much softer than 'Mr. Drill Sergeant', "We have a new girl. Her name is Casey Amelia Elwood. I'd like for you to treat her nicely."

Then she said the next two words a bit harsh, "Or else."

Yes, or else. Because if you don't treat me right i'll rip your face off.

What am I talking about. Oh, gosh. This is all my fault. If I wouldn't have called the fuzz then I wouldn't be in this mess. I put my head in my hands and let tears pour from my eyes. In all my crying I didn't realize that the woman and her team of soldiers had left and left the trays of food. Everyone's attention was focused on me. A boy about my age came up to me and said, "Hey, are you all right?"

That just made my anger come from rock bottom to the tip of the top. I shouted at him really. Meaning to shout at everyone, "No, I'm not alright. My whole life has been flipped in one day. My mother was torn limb to from limb by ravenous wolves and my dad went crazy! All he ever did was watch TV and read newspapers! My boyfriend probably thinks I'm dead and there is a possibility that my deepest darkest secret could be revealed to all of you! And when that happens you all die!"

At this point everyone had shocked faces except for the boy who asked me if I was alright. So I started uncontrollably sobbing and hiccuping at the same time, "There's just never an answer for anything is there? Where am I anyways?"

They all grinned and looked at each other, then in sync they said, "Your in the Los Angeles foster care program!"

Apparently that's the only time they get to shout, because it was pretty loud.

(A/N

'The fuzz' is the cops.)