The Hidden

Charlotte's POV

 

It usually starts with a morning, where the sunlight paints streaks of red and yellow againts the darkened sky. Those mornings were entirely too beautiful, sealed with reminders that it would be a start of a brand new day. But they were alos ominous; they would open new gates to those rains that would inevitalby ruin your parade. And for me, all those terrible mornings came in the form of reality.

Though, those horrifying day starters would soon come to a halt. By the reckless abandonment of caution and fate, the unwritten story of Charlotte Taken -of me- would soon be told to the world. And of course, it'd all start with a morning.

 

                                                 *   *   *

 

We'd often find ourselves pinpointing a person's weakness; putting them in limelight, for all to see. We yearn to put ourselves where we can have a veiw of all those who are below us. It's because we simply have alter-egos. And deep beneath our true facades, we are all destroyers.

Some are hell bent on destroying and undermining your confidence, or at least whatever was left unscathed. They make the actualities of pain seem almost unbearable. And that type of pain made us all cynical. It made us fell worthless.

Though, there are many out there that don't allow the destroyer of themselves to prevail. Instead, they help the hidden diamonds in the rough, gloss them over and make them shine like they once did. These people were meant to fix the fragments of society.

However, I belive people could be a mixture of both; they're an enigma of their own. They possessed the ability to destroy the vulnerable, but can easily fix the brokeness they had created from their latest project.

Throughout my life, I've learned to deal with destroyers. And as the morning sunlight peaked through the ragged curains, I found myself thinking they were practically inescapible. They came in a line, one after the other; side by side. And it seemed as if the fixers would flee at the sight of me, with determination surging through their vains to never cross paths with someone with the likes of me.

The odds were against me. I was forsaken. I was rejected. I was broken to the point where the peices of my original self had gone with the wind.

But, in retrospect, that was okay.

When a shadow casted across my face, i knew something was wrong. It was an instinctive notion that would come across me whenever someone would raid myprivacy in this orphanage. SoI let my eyelids flutter open, and my advanced vision sees right through the fabric of my hood that veils my face.

"Do you think she's awake yet?" Maggie inquired loudly, cat-like eyes skimming across my face. She was exhibiting he familiar behavior, saying everything and anything that slipped through her mind. It didn't matter if the words were razor sharp, what mattered to her was to make sure her opinion cut right through the skin f others.

Her friend, Rachel, who'd gone back to texting after being completely uninterested at the matter at hand glanced down long enough to analyze my figure. She shrugged, averting her gaze towards the screen of her phone once again. "If anything, she's breething too fast for someone who's sleeping."

At that moment, I nearly groaned. It was the multiple reactions, the swift defence the rebuked any quiestion of my being that gave it away. Or perhaps it was Rachel's proffesion of observing. None the less, Maggie's eyes now accessed me like a predator would a prey, vicius and ready at any sign of provocation.

"You know Charlotte," Maggie's lips quirked up into a callous grin, "you could stop now. Your've been caught, red-handed."

I rolled my eyes. After a daunting silence enveloped the room, she kicked me- knocking the wind out of me for only a second. Maggie was never fun to deal with. She was driven by the admiration that was directed towards her by others; it kept her standing. And when it came to putting me down on the ground in order to earn that admiration, she'd do it without a second's hesitation. Rachel, a prime example, had nodded in approval at Maggie's actions. Cosequently, Maggie's eyes gleamed in triumph.

Seemingly groaning, my arm snaked around and closed on my waist, almost as if i was attempting to suppress the pain. "what do you want, Maggie?"

"It's your turn to make breakfast," she replied, narrowing her eyes as if it was the most obvius thing in the world. Her gaze was intense, amost thoughtful, shrewd, like she knew what i was going to say next.

 

"When is it ever not my turn?"

 

"Exactly," she retorted, her signature smirk etching her face. "And that's the beauty of it."

 

                                              *        *        *

 

Mornings in the orphanage had always been earily familier - they were like nightmares that come and go, but they'll always leave a mark on your memory. After all, having to man the orphanages chores for almost thirteen years had taught me favorably a lot.

Getting to know the place inside and out was twice-in-one job, I got to know the people. For instance, I was very aware that the owner of the orphanage, Margaret - had wanted nothing to do with the twelve girls who lived in it. Although, still trusted us enough to keep the building standing.

Just as I placed the last remaining plate of food onto the table, the rest of the twelve girls barged into the dining room, their ruckus making me look up. They came in a line and all seemed equally exhausted. Slowly, they all went towards their designated seats, scraping the wooden floor as they did so. Resuming to my normal routine, I fetched a plate of my own but a hand shot out at the last second, the long, skinny fingers slithered across and grasping onto my wrist. I stiffened and begrudgingly gazed up, only to meet Maggie's blank face.

"I'm afraid you'll me eating scraps today," she yanked the plate away. "you'll have to wait until we finish. Then, you'll scavenge for what's left of the food."

My mouth open as I bristled in indignation, nut shut it quickly. Maggie generally had no inhabitions, she never thought to censor whatever she was going to say. And at times like this, there was never time to brace yourself for her infamous verbal attacks. Though, there was nothing but time when it came to the after-math. Civilities were thrown out the window as I prepaired to retaliate.

"Are you sure you want to eat all that extra food?" I inquired, smoothly. "Binge eating because of your lack of parents was bad enough for your health." A look of unconcealed suprise flac=shed through everyone's eyes and did not escape my notice. An outburst of mine was rare to come by, and as all of the girls looked back at Maggie with an expectancy - she'd gone pale.

With that, I'd knocked her off the pedestal. I stripped her of her worth and all of the admirationthat kept her together. But, it had been too easy. I knew very well that it took more than a low-blow to tear down Maggie's deffences and crumble her.

So as time passed, she got furious and blood roured in her ears. In one swift motion, she surged forward, slamming the plate of food onto the floor where it broke to peices. Her fingers latched around the collar of my shirt, and she pulled me torwards her. Our noses were barely inches way from each other  and there was nothing remotely teasing about te glint in her eye.

"At least I understand what it's like to have parents. At least my parents dies loving me," Maggie hissed through clenched teeth, "unlike you, your parents probably abandonded you; left you to fend for yourself and your pretty little life, covering your face as if your some type of delusional mugger. Now they're out there, living their life without someone clinging to them, stopping them from discovering the world for what iit truely is. But, I wouldn't blame them, they're etter off without you." I flinched, her words stricking a raw nerve. Insults hardly fazed me anymore, but the mere mention of my parents was lethel - it was my achille's heel.

I should've seen it coming, after all, i was playing with fire.

My mind turned into a blank slate and before I knew it, I slipped out of Maggie's grip with ease, something I should've done much sooner. Croutching down, I plucked the broken glass off the floor as it slashed my hand. Thus, I forgot about the emotional pain. I forgot what it felt like to get hurt in a place where no other pain can touch.

Maggie catches my eye. She tried to smile in conquest, but the sight of my bllod had turned it into a cringe. What was left of the dish was gone. So, I hid my hands behind my back, where no one would be able to witness it miraculously heal within seconds. The eleven girls searched my face, cautiously gauging for any sign of a reaction.

 

They got nothing.

 

Turnig, I waltzed out of the predatory area into a territory of my own. A safe haven, where I would add a mark to my calendar as an indication for another terrible morning.

 

 

                              *           *             *          *

 

Some things are often not what they seem to be. And because of that, people don't understand the differences between predictions and facts. People tend to feed off whatever information they were served on a silver platter. They'll believe anything because deep down, we're all gullible to our won ignorence.

What Maggie had claimed was nothing but an empty shell of washed up redictions= from an ocean of many others. It was not where near the real truth that lies buried in the tragedies of my story.

 Albeit, it was better off if she didn't know.

Secrets like mine pushed people off the rail, made you wade dangerous waters.

   My father - he was something entirely different from humanity. Coming from an Alpha bloodline, he was pure, he was all things good about the werewolf gene. Werewolves obtained an enhanced sence of smell, vision, hearing, speed, and the ability to shift into wolves. And my father had learned how to control these powers for the greater good - he used it to lead, not to override.

 

My mother was a different matter altoghether. Her species did not walk the face of earth. They were angels that lived above the clouds, out of sight and out of mind of all human beings. They could turn invisible, read emotions and minds, and possess and individual.

Both species had an undenieble beauty that made toes curl; the kind of appearence you got infatuated with at first sight.

 

There was a period where hybrids were a topic of interest. The coulcil - a group that was made up of the six original supernatural creatures: a werewolf, a vampire, a fairy, a witch, an angel, and a reaper that led the super world away from imbalance - combined numerous genes, seeing what would happen once the supernatural traits mixed into one.

 And the odds have been in their favor. For example, if one was to combine a gene of a werewolf and a vampire, the offspring would either be endowed with the gift of either werewolf or vampire.

 Nature staying equal.

 

Although, they descovered a lack of harmony. A hybrid would wreck the equilibrium between all supernatural species. And it had been the werewolf-angel hybrid.

   Instead of being blessed with the powers of one supernatural, werewolf - angels were blessed with both. the perfection that the offspring harbors would beevident, because not only would it radiat through their pawor, it came in andulating waves from their other apperace. They were too strong, too gourges; thus creating an imbalance.

The council surged forth with the motive to find a cure. An abomination was not appreciated in our society, and a species with that much power and beauty sould cease to exsist.

 

Though, they found nothing which left the council to go with the latter. They made love between werewolves and angels brohibited, illegal.

Somehow my father, most prominent Alpha of the supernatural world, found the laws far to bleak to handle. When a super world war took place the werewolves had teamed up with the angels. My parents met as leaders, and then, fell in love as mates. In a world where imbalance didn't matter, they would've been unstoppable.

They had a proscriptive relationship, and they made sure their love would be hidden in the shaddows of others. Soon they mated, and for the first time, a werewolf-angel graced the earth; an abomination had been born. I was born.

 

I was concealed from the public for five years but, the love of my parents had been uncovered. The council, blinded with rage, followed us to the ends of the earth in order to kill my beloved parents. Eventually, they succeded. In a fleeting moment, my parents were left to wither on the cold, hard ground. And when I lost them, it felt like I lost myself, too.

"Look up, Charlie." Her father watched as she did, reveling in the envalope of happiness his daughter was so filled with. He knew moments like this would end - He called the Council, giving them a location where he and his wife would make the ultimate sacrifice. After all, when comes an end comes a begining.

The parents wanted nothing more than a life encumbered by worries for Charlotte. And, they didn't want her to run away from the grim actualities of reality for the rest of eternity - it would be a waste of life.

 

"They're stars," the five year old giggled, "pretty stars."

 

"Yes, they certainly are," he confirmed. "When you're ever feeling alone or mabye even a little sad, just remember mommy and daddy are always up there, twinkling at you."

   Averting her gaze, Charlotte took her father's hand. "You're not always going to be up there, silly," she placed his hand over her heart, "you and mommy will be here. In my heart, where you two will always be safe and locked up."

"Locked up?" Her father was more amused rather than shocked. 

"Yeah," she grinned, "but, don't worry, I'll give you a key."

 

"Someone is going to have to roll," her mother pointed out, but the gleam in her eyes said something else. Charlotte sleepishly took the monopoly dice in her hands, meeting her mother's warm, expectant gaze with an apologetic one. And, it was then that they heard it. Perhaps it was the sound of feet marching in front of the house or the sound of fists punching the door but nonetheless, it had taken its toll on the Taken family.

Charlotte's fathers eyes were stormy, like the turbulant waves that rose and fell, waves that could kill sailors and swallow boats whole. But for the first time, he finally relized the Council had potential to hurt him and there was only a matter of time to save his daughter from what's to come. 

 

The mother, however, took matters into her own hands without any hesitation.  She pulled her darling daughter close, starring into a pair of eyes she'll never see ever again. "Hey Charlie, remember the Red Riding Hood game daddy and I tought you?"

 Charlotte nodded, looking sufficiently excited. "I love that game!"

Her mother smiled, but at a time like this it did not reach her eyes. Instead, they were guarded, her expresion remorsful. "Okay, Daddy and I have been captured and we're stuck in the farthest lace ever. You, my sweet little Red Ridding Hood, will come to our rescue. And you will run, almost as if your life depended on it."

  Her daughter gasped. "Is that it?"

"No, there's more," she replied shacking her head. "These big, bad monsters are lurking around. And if they see you, they'll chase after you!"

With that her father joined the duo. "You're going to wear this cloak," he placed the fabric onto his daughter, "this way, they'll never recognize you. But you must keep it on, or your identity will be revealed." "I'll see you on the other side, right?" Charlotte inquired. It was quiet, despite the ruckus of breaking wood. The room was filled with silence, but with that silence encapsulted hope, along with the promises of a better tomorrow and of a new life.

  "Yes, we promise," they swore. "We'll see you at the other side."

 

Though, my destination had always been an empty capture. An empty expectation. And an empty promise. But turns out, the promise was real, filled with emotions that I could never feel. Because inside that promise was something entirely to precious. They were waiting at the other side. Just not the one I expected it to be.

Visitors

Hours that day passed by in an excruciatingly slow pace, each minute taking an eternity. Albeit, I learned to enjoy these unenthusiastic moments. Nowadays, it is difficult to find the abundant free-time to revel in your own thoughts. And the abiity felt like pure bliss.

 

"Hey,Charlotte," Maggie called, snapping me out of my reverie. I merely glanced at her, unable to stop my curious nature from prying.

 

"What?"

 

"Which one looks best on my nails?" She inquired, carefully scrutinizing her options before her. There was a small variety, but after knowing her for many years, I was aware that Maggie was absolutely horrid when coming to conclusions.

"Blue,black, or red?" 

 

"Black and red," I replied, keeping my answer clipped and concise. Though, a wave of mischief washing over me drowning and robbing me of all inhabitions. I couldn't stop myself from blurting the words. They spewed out like blood of a new bonr

"After all, these colors bring out the evil in you."

She laughted at that, her cackle filled with such a coldness I felt a shiver go down my spine. Thus far, I knew two sides of Maggie that existed. The one that had shown me no mercy when it came to approval of others. And the genuine, caring one who'd stand up for those she befriended.

 

The latter side of her was something I had only heard of from the girls. For as long as I could remember, there was an unspoken line drwn between Maggie and me. It kept us apart, ut when either of us threatened to stroll into other's territory, hell would be set loose. We couldn't hide in our shells from the inevitable, we simply had to endure the consequences. And that was exactly what I had done. I'd strode into Maggie's territory as an uninvited.

"What are you trying to do exactly? Initiate a fight? Prove a point?" She asked mockingly, her tone harsh and vehament: She stepped closer to my bed, where I had been at the moment. That was when she clasped the collor of my shirt, bringing me up to my feet in definitive hastiness that made me shudder.

  I quickly gripped the rim of my hood, in worries that it might fall off due to the unexpected impact. Though, she barely noticed the imperceptible movement, too blinded by the raw anger that seemed to consume her whole. Maggie was merciless and relentless and cold-hearted. It scared me sometimes, knowing that people as empty and ruthless as her exicted.

"I wouln't if i were you." She wasn't looking at me. Instead she kept her gaze focused on a particulary rusted corner of the room behind me. "I have friends that would gladly have my back as I have theirs. But you see, you don't. You're nothing when you don't have people to support you. And because of that, we all know who would win a fight. It was then that I finally acknowledged the irony in our current situation. Maggie had been so wrong, so very wrong, but I had no way to prove it to her. Having my identity revealed was my kryptonite, a weakness that could put me in turmoil for the rest of eternity.

There was no way to assuage the vexation that surged through me with her word. Once the barriers - I had conjured up to protect me - were destroyed, guard let down, I was terrified of the aftermath. For I would lose myself to the monsters of society.

 

"You have no idea what you're dealing with, Maggie," I decided to say. She rolloed her eyes, disbelief palable in her reaction. My heart clenched as I grit my teeth, thinking nothing was ever going to get past her.

  She began to tremor before she prepared to retaliate. But her words took a blind leap into the void as the door beside us stood ajar. My saprise was obvious when I saw Margaret's crimped face hiding withing the crack. "Girls, I suggest you stop before you do something rash." Margaret seethed, talking umbrage at our exchange. She briefly pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaustion rolling off of her in such undulating waves, I almost felt it myself. "There's a visiter here now and I'd appreciate it if you go to the meeting by yourselves without me having to drag you down myself."

 

With that, she vacated the room and an immense silence took her place. But withing that silence was something that was enfolded with hope. Visiters rarely came to the orphanage and whenever they did, each moment had been etched into everyones momory.

It was the hesitation, or our desire for parent companionship that made us forget the situation we were once in. But eventually Maggie flinched and wrenched her hand upward from my collar. Taking a few steps back, she quickly made a buzz line towards the door.

When I made a move to follow her, she paused. "Don't," she hissed. She casted a glance to me from over her shoulder, and it was the crazed look in her eyes that stopped me. "Out of all twelve girls, why would she ever pick you? It'll just be a waste of time if you went to see whoever is down there pick anyone but you." 

   Her words were like a blade slashing thin skin. It hurt. It was painful. But some things in life were like that. Sometimes you needed to take a step back and get away from all the hurt. Getting stuck in your suffering left you breathless, gasping for air, clausterphobic, entangled within the damage and overwhelming feelings. My face twisted into one of rage. "Oh? And what makes you think that you'll get adopted then!?"

 

"I never said that," she retorted. An expression veils her face, falling hard and fast, and there was no possible was for me catch it before it went. "But I have a better chance than you. While I'm an open book, you're nothing but a closed-up mystery. Too fragile for anyone to touch."

I swallowed, the fridged air filling me with ice. Maggie's fury towards me had always been alarming. But I failed to realize that behind her words was something that was entirly accurate. The truth.

 

                             *                     *                    *                    *

 

Sunrays peaked through the rather tattered curtains, giving he area an ethereal glow. It was foreign, and I could only watch as he orphanage transformed into something it usually wasn't. If I had been an outsider, I would've believed this place held moments that consisted of utmost perfection and beauty. A place the revolved around an infinite amount of happiness. Thiugh I knew better. Beyond this building's public facade was something being held by a darkness. It could've sufficed as everyone's worst nightmare.

Maybe it was the orphans that seemed so hell-bent on getten up on the pedistal. Or perhaps it was the fact that we were all so very alone that there was nothing alse to lose. But overall, the dignity and optimism that kept is going, that reminds us that we did have something to lose. And eventually we just wither away, sink into the grim abyss as mere shells of what we used to be. Though we hang onto one last hope. A prayer that there will be someone who would be a new experience, a fresh morning sun, the first raindrop after a drought.

 

You see, each visitor counted, for they could be a whole new gate to something we lost long ago. Life. Together, we made a leap into the oblivion. All twelve girls stood side by side, chins held high as we awaited. The skin on my shoulders feel heavy, my muscles bundling up into a pile of pain beneath it. At times like this I wish that I were a snake. So I could shed out of my own skin, and slither into the sunset with the dark of my tail fallowing me like a shadow. There was a creaking, like the floor was groaning from beneath our feet. And then, Margarate entered the room with three long strides, fae impassive and polite. The freckles on her face seem more prominent, more scattered perhaps; reminding me of sand in the desert.

"Girls, as you all know, there's a visitor with us today. Be polite and keep your answers short. Especially you Chelsea,"  Margaret muttered, pointing a stiff finger towards her victim. She earned a mumbled protest in return. "Everyone, welcome in Macy Ske."

 

At that moment, I wondered what drowning felt like. I imagened my toes curling over the side of the pier, while the black water bobs below. And I will jump, take the plunge and let it all fill my lunges with sharp, cold water. My body will shiver is shock, my chest will constrict with cold, as a charge of cool electric shocks igniting my senses. A nd I'll never feel more alive in my last breathing seconds.

 

But this wasn't a battle in the sea. No, this was real life. Yet, I still feel claustrophobic, rigid, and empty. I still feel like I was drowning.

I t was quiet before the sound of steps echoed within the halls of the room. They were loud. But just by the melody of it, I can tell they were graceful. It's only a matter of time when she enters the room, and when she does, all of us can't help but gaze at her beauty.

   She looks so young, but her soft, aging wrinkles debunks everyone of our theories. Her londe hair is more on the brownish side, and it lies in waves againts her sides. Although, it's her overpowering scent that cathes my attention. It suffocates the room and it's hard not to notice. When I take a whiff. it fills my nostrils, invading my airways with a mucky, wooden scent.

 

She's not human,' my wolf scarlett, ovserves. Her words throw me off the rail, making my heart clench in a bad way, My palms feel clammy, sticky. 'What could she be then?' I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. I continue to scrutinize the visitor, taking note that she looks too comfortable in her own skin. She's looking at us confidently, and I wonder if she, too, knew I was not normal.

   'She's a werewolf, Charlotte,' Scarlett clarifies, in a way that that I could've thought she was irritated. I stiffen and I want to believe that she was lying. But wolves never lied, they were brutally honest, faithfully genuine. It was both a streangth and a weakness.

Just when I was about to say more, I relized Macy's zeroing gaze on e, Margaret just beside her. "Macy, this is Charlotte Taken. She's seventeen, nearly eighteen and she's been with the orphanage for almost thirteen years," Margaret goes on, and it dawns upon me that they're doing introductions. My eyes flicker towards Macy, gauging for her reaction. 

 

   Her expression is thoughtful, gazing at my hood like it was the strangest thing she had ever seen. When she prepares to speak, I have an inkling feeling that she'll point it out. She doesn't. "Where's her parents?"

 "There location is unknown, at the moment," Margaret replied, droning as she talks. "Charlotte was brought here by bystanders. No birth certificate or records whatsoever." Her revelation has a great impact on Macy. Her eyes are wide now, her mouh practically pleading for bugs to come in. And when she glances back at me, she's entirely too perceptive. 

"Oh dear. I'm sorry," Macy apologizes, even though it's not her fault. I take a ragged breath, forcing my head to nod. She's attempting to be empathetic, but she can only hear, not listen.

 

It is when I detect movement. I cast my head downwards, just in time to see Macy's hand moving it's way towards mine. She clasps it, and I immediatly feel our werewolf connection take place. It's when a werewolf crosses another werewolf. Despite being strangers to one another, we find comfort in our mutalism.

  She gasps, the sudden awareness taking her back. Everyone is watching our peculiar exchange now and I fidget in the limelight. I tug at her fingers. "Are you okay?" I can't help but look into her eyes, worriedly.

 

Lookingback up, she's staring at me like i'm a whole different person. She squeezes my hand, the lightness of her touch almost unnoticeable. She smiles. "I'm fine. It was ice meeting you, Charlotte."

   After that, they leave abruptly, silently announcing the end of the introductions. Everyone quickly scrambles for the exit, knowing Margaret will call us down once Macy has made her final decision.

"What was that about?" Maggie asked from behind me. I turn around facing her directly because I find it unnerving when talking to someone I cannot see. Though, when I do, I wish I hadn't. Her face was twisted into a scowl, but there's an oddness to it I could not comprehend.

I only shrugged,

 

                        *                           *                         *                     *

 

I always wondered what it was about society that seemed to change us. We were like zombies, walking the faces of earth with hearts emptyer than voids. It seemed to suck us in until there was no light to rescue us from the darkness.

  On the outside, we were dead. But it only took a little push to make us alive again. To make us feel like we were individuals who had stories to tell. 

 

The girls and I sat on our designated beds, each one of us anticipating for what's to come. It was impossible to keep still; we tremble, we shook, and we hummed. No one bothers to speak, for a silence like this had only been pleasing. "God, I can't wait anymore. I just want them to come." Chelsea groaned, shoving her face into the soft of her pillow. 'That's what she said," Scarlett snickered. I rolled my eyes at her immaturity, finding it more irking than amusing.

 

"Girls! You can come back down now," Margaret called from downstairs. Almost instantaneously, everyone got to their feet, soon bustling their way down the stairs. I blinked, trailing behind them rather reluctantly.  It happened too quickly for my liking, and we were aready in positions. I stood there, my body beginning to shake from suppressed emotion as I kept my gaze averted from the sole situation. Anxiety crept upon my heart, bounding it, and threw it againts my chest.

 

My fingers enclosed into a tight fist, my knuckles adopting a whitish color. My eyes fluttering closed, and from behind my eyelides, I could see a world of stars. And somehow, I feel alright.

 "Macy, you've already made your decision, who would you like?"

 

Before I could controle my actions, my eyes wondering up to Macy's face. But, her attention was already on me, her look filled with awe and curiosity. She tilted her head in my direction. It was intense; the tension was as thick, yet as delicat, as glass. Macy's reply would be like a hammer, falling heavy and fast, ready to shatter it.           And, that, it did. Her announcment eemed to resound through our bodies, burningour ears. And for a fleeting moment, I swore that I had turned deaf.

 

                                                         "Charlotte Taken."

Bonding

Charlotte's pov.

 

 

""I suggest you start packing, Charlotte." Margaret stated, dazed by macy's answer. I only nodded, also dazed. Why did mavy choose me? Out of all 12 girl she shoose me! The cloaked coward, the mysteriose one, the lonely one..

 

"Macy, please follow me so you can fill out some forms." Magaret said, lifelessly. Macy followed her but she didn't forget to look around suspicously, confused why everyone was so strange. Soon both of them left all of our sights.     I snapped out of my thoughts and made my way upstairs. The whole orphanage was unusually quiet even the dogs outside that don't seem to shut up! Figures, the cloaked coward was getting adopted.!

 

I began packing. I left all of todays events sink into my mind. Should I be happy?  I was getting adopted and I was going to have a real family again. Family.... A larg smile erupted onto my face. I liked the idea of family, they're always by your side whenever you needed them. Most of the time.... My smile dropped.

 What if they were cruel people? But Macy seemed nice...... But looks can be deceving! since they're also werewolves, what if their whole pack hates me? I stiffened. A pack can go up to about 300 werewolves. Just imagine, 300 werewolves being desgusted by me... The idea was horrifying.

 

I sighed, I was used to hate anyway. I've been hated by 99% of the people I met since I put the damn hood on.  Speaking of my hood, what if they ask about it? would I rust them enough to show them my face? What if I did trust them and I sowed them it? Would they lose my trust if they told the council about my powers? All of these questions were making knots in my stomach si I decided to stop thinking so hard.  But one question remained in my head... "Would I trust them and love them?" 

 

After finidhing packing I sighed. "This is it." I mumbled to myself, quietly, I looked around the room and smiled. I was finally leaving this hell hole. That was the only good thing. I turned around getting ready to exit the room but suddenly a group of girls blocked the door, halting me.

"What do you want?" I mumbled: Immediately, they snickered, clearly amused by my weak voice. "You got lucky today but all of us are going to laugh when you come crawling back to us, begging us for a home, you caword." Chelsea mused. Finally,  I snapped. I was tiered of getting pushed around. I'll show them who's boss. I walked up to Chelsea slowly. The confident glint in her eye now vanished, makeing me smirk. I backed her up into a wall, hearing her gulp. Who's the coward now?

 

 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 10.02.2015

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I dedicate this book to the friends and family that helped me want to write anything, and helped me to keep writing.