Rogue ✔

Chapter Two : Rouge

Paige POV

She had a fairly normal childood, dispite it being a little rambunctious. She'd had two brothers, a caring mother, and a brave father. They'd lived with two other families in a scatter of cabins in the woods, somewhere along the border of Montana and Canada. She'd lived there for most of her life.

She'd had all the things a child could want. Crazy adventures, homemade toys and clothes, and enough imagination for a lifetime. The thought of how happy she was causes her nothing but sadness now.

Father showed her how to hunt on her own and her mother held her hand as she shifted for the first time at thriteen years old. She'd thought they were normal. 

Her older brothers Nathan and Cedric, were skilled hunters. They constantly made sure that we had food on the table. They (along with my parents) taught me how to read, write, swim, and fight. She didn't think at the time that fighting was necessary at the time. We lived a relatively peaceful life. Why in the world would we need to fight anyone?

She guessed she never truly knew the true meaning of owning the title 'Rogue'. She didn't know that they were seen as murderous or theives. That was a nasty rumor. We hadn't hurt anybody.

She remembers her last day of freedom with a sudden clarity.

She was just on a short walk down to the creek for water when she has seen it. A dark sillouhette hiding in the shade of the trees. It was the shape of a wolf... she'd known that for sure. She'd quietly called out to it, thinking that it was one of her brothers... or one of the other families children who had followed her. She was terrified when it started to turn away. No one shed known would do that. Fathers voice rang in her head, warning her of danger.

"If you see anything suspicious, you come home immediately and tell us what you saw." Her fathers gruff voice rang between her ears.

When the mysterious wolf faded from her sight she ran home.

No one thought much of the incident. But that soon changed when terror filled screams echoed throughout our small camp a few nights later. She'd bolted up out of bed... It was about midnight, shed recalled later on. As soon as she'd heard it,, she'd known who  was screaming, it was Amy, one of the mother's that we traveled with. Her sharp screech ripped through the night like fire on gasoline, until it came to a sudden halt. Everything inside her young body stilled, and she knew that Amy was dead.

Her father quickly ran outside, the brothers followed after him. She had raised from bed, desperate to hear the reassurance that everything was alright. But, she was wrong.  She remembered pleading with Nathan to stay inside. He and Cedric were only 15, not men like Papa. Papa could protect us... stay inside.

They wouldn't listen. Her words fell on deaf ears as more screams echoed in the night. They refused to stay behind. Mama grabbed me from behind and pulled me to her chest as she watched them go. A stedy stream of tears poured down the young girls face. She didn't know what was going on. Thoughts raced in her head as fear and panic gripped her in a vice. Was Amy dead? Who killed Amy? Where's Papa? What's going on? There was a lot of yelling. Someone was yelling at us... at Papa.

"Filthy Rogue!"

"Traitorous Mutt!

"Murderer!

She looked up at her mother. "Mama, what's happening?"

"Stay here honey, Im going to be right back..." She let go of me and hastily walked over to our kitchen. She opened up a small cabinet and pulled out a knife that Papa used to cut the meat. She then stormed over to the door and flung it open... A wild determination in her pretty blue eyes. She suddenly looked back at her, told her daughter how much she loved her and slammed the door in her face.

Now, she was alone. Panicked, the young girl hurriedly ran to her parents tiny room. It was the only room in the cabin that had a window. She yanked open the makeshift curtains and peered into the dark night. More horrible insults violated her ears.

"Flea Bags!

"Killers!

"Rouge Scum!"

She was full on sobbing now. She could hear the definite sound of violence and the light cackle of fire. Was something burning? She couldn't see much from the window... It was pointed in the wrong direction to clearly see anything, but she could definitely hear the grunts and gasps of violence. A long groan of pain broke through the night, it sounded dangerously like her Papa.

"Papa! Papa!" She'd screamed. Why were they hurting Papa? Who were they? Why were they here?

Turns out that wolf she'd seen in the forest was a scouter, a highly trained soldier who's only job was to find Rogue families like mine.

The King had sent his knights to investigate a eye witness report if a small band of Rogues on the outskirts of a pack called GoldenSun. That very same night, the black knights came into camp. They killed my father and both my brothers. They never told me how my mother died. They killed both of the two families and burnt all of our houses to the ground. 

She was the only survivor.

I don't know why they let me live. Maybe because she was a girl... Maybe because she was young. Anyway...the soldiers slapped me around a bit, then dropped me off a juvenile prison hall. Even there she was seen as bad luck. She stayed there for six months.

Then she broke out.

She was captured again 2 weeks later, put again into another juvenile prison hall near a large pack in Kansas. In there she turned 14, staying there for 8 months.

Then she broke out.

Basically, this pattern continued until they told her at age 16 that she was to be taken to a maximum security prison in a undisclosed location. She was to serve out a life sentence and if she tried to escape... she could be tortured then executed upon recapture.

She thought that this prison was just like any other. All the inmates at the juvenile hall were all just orphans with petty crime charges. No one had severely broke the law. There... she was the top dog. It was easy to climb to the top, she just made it very clear that she was a Rogue and they left her alone.

Here, they don't give a flying fuck about your status. Well... at least the inmates don't. If the guards didn't care then she probably wouldn't be handcuffed to a table right now.

She sighed. Reminiscing always put her into a bad mood.

The girl was just getting to shoveling some slop into her mouth when she felt someone staring at her. That tingly feeling at the base of your neck that sends your hair standing up, she felt it. Her head snapped up, unwashed blonde hair flying around her.

She was standing on the other side of the table, just staring. Her black hair fell in choppy patterns around her jaw. Her beady green eyes glared at me as she revealed crooked teeth in a low snarl. Clarissa.

'Now or never Paige' she told herself 'She's  looking for a fight.'