Leave Me Alone, Now and Forever (Completed)

1: Me, Anne

"Mommy?" I asked her quietly and she looked up with anger.

"What is it?" she asked in a low harsh voice and I shrunk back a little.

"Can I have food today?" I was so hungry, that I couldn't help but ask, even though I knew I wouldn't get any.

"Let's count the reason's why you can't have any food shall we?" she said in a cruel tone and I tried to shake my head. "One you are a needy little piece of filth, two you don't deserve anything, three you didn't work enough today." I started to cry then, silent tears running down my small cheeks.

"But mommy-" I stopped talking as she slapped my face, the sound ringing in my ears. I left her room and slowly went back to my room.

My room was only a small closet in the basement of our pack's house. There were plenty of spare rooms upstairs, but I didn't deserve one, so I stayed down in the basement. My closet had one ratty quilt full of holes, a flat pillow, a bare light bulb, and a book. Those were all of my belongings.

I walked over to where my quilt was spread out and I slowly sat down on top of it, not wanting to feel the cold stone of the smooth cement floor. I curled up and cradled my still stinging cheek, thinking about myself.

I am 7 years old, I have long brown hair, green eyes, and an almost pretty face. I am small, don't weigh much, and I am skinny. I get food once every 4 days usually. As soon as I turned 2 years old, mom sent me to live down here, and I have been the servant of the pack ever since. I cook, clean, fix things, and take care of all the children whenever the parents are busy. I am a werewolf, but haven't shifted yet. So basically, I'm helpless.

"Anne! Get up!" I heard yelled into my ear and I bolted up, looking around for where the voice had come form. It was coming from the intercom system that my dad had installed next to my pillow, it was so all of the pack members didn't have to use the mind link.

I didn't deserve to be connected to other werewolves, so instead there were intercoms scattered around the house. "Mary is crying, come take care of her!" I sighed and lifted my aching body off of my quilt. I trudged up the stairs and went to nursery on the fourth floor.

"Hello?" I asked in a scared voice as I knocked on the door. The door jerked open and the sound of a baby's wails filled my ears. I walked in quickly and went straight to the baby in the scowling women's arms.

"Shh, Mary, it's okay, shhh" I told the baby and rocked her back and forth in my arms.

"Stupid baby, couldn't wait till the morning to scream, could you?" she grumbled as she slammed the door and probably went back to her bedroom. The baby quieted down after a few minutes and I sighed in relief, not wanting anyone else to touch the baby. I held her tenderly, knowing that she was precious and that she didn't judge me.

All of the kids had yet to learn how to hate me. I cared about all of the children in this house, and they cared about me in return. Though they were forced to act mean towards me while their parents were around, other times they thought of me like their mom.

After 4 hours, everyone was starting to come awake, kids were going to school, adults were going to work, and I was starting my chores. First I went to the kid school that was built in the side of our pack house, it was for the werewolf children from the ages 3 months to 6 years old. There are three babies below 1 year old, five kids in between 1 and 3, and ten kids between 3 and 6, so seventeen kids in all. I was the teacher for the first 2 hours and last 2 hours and 1 hour for lunch.

I taught them how to draw, read, and write. I had only finished second grade, so I taught the kids. The preschool only had main walls, the sections were separated with three feet tall gates. The sections were diaper changing, baby nursery (different from other nursery, has cribs and baby toys and a TV set on educational kid station), a classroom (has a black board, 20 desks, and a supply closet), and a lunchroom (with one long counter with baby seats and bar chairs, on the other side there was a kitchen that I used to cook for all of the kids).

"Okay everyone, today we are going to learn how to draw a house, okay?" I asked them, and they all answered with okay's and yay's. I got out the crayons and construction paper and slowly handed them out to all of the kids above 3 years old.

One of the babies started to cry and I quickly went over to see what was wrong, I hated it when they cried, since it should be their parents that would help them and dry their tears.

It was Andy, his name was really Andrew, but since he was only 2 years old I called him Andy, and I saw that he had fallen down and scraped his knee. "Shhh, Andy. It's okay, it's okay, here let's put a band aid on your boo-boo, okay?" he nodded his head a little and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve as I put the band aid on his scrape.

"Kiss better mama?" he asked me and I smiled sadly.

"You're not sposed to call me mama, remember?" I told him, feeling my heart tug a little and he looked scared.

"Will mommy hit hand again?" he asked fearfully and I shook my head

"Just don't say it again, okay Andy?" I told him and kissed the band aid gently, wanting to be able to take all the pain away from these kids.