Always

Chapter 1

          I've read a lot of Werewolf stories so i wanted to try something completely out of my style.

Thnxx for reading my writing.  Hope you enjoy it.

^_^  Enjoy

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         It's almost over. Punch. Just a little more. Kick. Breathe,  almost done. Slap. Don't scream. I thought to myself it only provokes him.

     Pain, loneliness, and hate into every punch. I think he hates me. I silently laughed to myself as i was getting pounded on by my father. 

   He put all his strength into every punch, kick, and beating that he could. Not leaving a single spot on my small frail body without bruising. 

  With one more punch to my ribs I heard a crack and he left without another word. Seeming a little more at ease. I choked in a puff of air and tried to not scream. I tried to pick myself up, really regretting that decision, because a shot of pain coursed through my entire body. I mentally kicked myself for doing anymore harm to my body.

   I got up and went to the bathroom hoping i had more antiseptic and gauze to wrap up my new wounds. Fuck and they were almost healed too. I took off my blood soaked clothes. My best long sleeved shirt was ruined. I literally cut off my pants to get to my new cuts and bruises. My body was covered in blue, purple, and yellowish green marks from new and old wounds. I gagged at my mutilated body and set to work.

    I first cleaned up the deep cuts from his steel toed boots and stitched them up with medical string that I found at a garage sale, and a sewing needle from my mom's old sewing kit. After cleaning them thoroughly I iced my bruises to make the swelling go down. I had to hide them as best i could; father did not want me to bring notice to myself at school. 

   I threw on an old pair of gym shorts and and a shirt of my moms that reminded me of when she was still here. I curled up on my bed forgetting completely about my blood soaked floor and dirty clothes in the bathroom. I couldn't hold it anymore. I cried as much as i liked. I cried until my throat went dry and i was completely worn out from my quiet sobs. I cried about everything. I cried about my mom's death, my father's violence, and i cried about my pitiful life up until now. I cried until there was no life in my body and i slept a dreamless, endless, lifeless night just to start this all over again.

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      I woke up the next morning feeling sore as fuck. Damn it just kill me now. I got up and grabbed a cloth and scrubbed the floor until all the blood was gone. I put the ruined clothes in the trash and i stripped my bed of the horrid blood smelling sheets. I stripped and got into a very very hot shower to calm my nerves. I got out changed the gauze and the stitches with as little pain as possible which was very very slim. As was the normal routine of everyday for the rest of my life.

      I put on a dark red hoodie and some dark, flair, acid washed jeans, then tied a GAP sweat shirt around my waist; just in case of rain. I put on my favorite converse and put some foundation and base on, to cover up whatever was showing. I grabbed my beloved ipod that my mom bought me before she died. I put all of my favorite music on there such as Maroon 5, Green Day, Cold Play, etc. And then all of her favorite music such as The Greatful Dead, Jimmy Hendricks, John Lennon, etc. It was the best way to stay with her. Music is for the unspoken. I lived by that saying. My mom taught me the piano and i practiced all I could when i was in the schools music room. I thought it was the best way to speak your mind.

       I walked down the hall to the kitchen where i knew i couldn't eat breakfast without waking him up. I was smarter than to have a beating in the morning. I grabbed a banana and my book bag, dreading the long 2 mile walk to school, with 200 pounds worth of books in my book bag. Same shit different day.

       As I walked out the door I heard something stirring in my dads room. I didn't waste anytime to get the hell out of there. I was not fixing to let him ruin another good hoodie. I ran out the front door and hid behind a tree. Waiting and listening.

      I heard him scream "Where the fuck did you go CARA?!? I am going to beat the living shit out of you!!!!" There are good reasons and bad reasons for having a mom as a werewolf. One was my favorite my eyes were a bright glowing green and my hair was long, black and thick just like my mom's, two my abilities were strengthened from any normal human; I could see, smell, and hear better than any human,  and three, my agility was better so I could take a little more of a beating from him, thats why he didn't hold back; not so sure if that is good or not.

       After he settled down I headed for school knowing what was waiting for me there. I plugged my headphones in and listened my way out of the world knowing that there was more to beatings and being ignored at school.

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        Luckily school was an easy escape, but since it was the only thing I had as a barrier between me and my father, I tried to make it last as long as possible.

        The first two periods dragged on and on. Then came my favorite, music class.

       When the bell rang I raced out of there, down the hall, to the right, and it was the 4th door to the right.

       I went in and sat at the piano. I played the first piece that my mom had ever taught me. Ave Maria. I played it out long and made it harmonize and become in sync with my heart beat. I felt tears roll down my cheek as memories of me and my mom laughing and playing this together came flooding back. The memories made my heart tremble with longing to be in my moms arms again.   I stopped playing as the kids started coming into the room. I wiped my tears away and put on my best poker face and let the rest of the day draw out as if the world was still alive and had not come to an end.

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        Mr. Manson was my favorite teacher. No matter what i was feeling he always got me distracted with his fascinating history stories. I loved his class so much, but i could feel the time of dismissal drawing near and crawling up my spine. 

      'Tick tick tick' the clocked teased me as it's little hand moved slower than normal, or had it always been like that? Oh well. 

       'Tick tick tick' 2:59 pm was drawing to a close. I couldn't help, but wonder how the hell i am going to make it through tonight without going to the ER.

       'Ring Ring Ring' The bell screeched. I couldn't stand loud noises. My hearing was to sensitive for it. I waited until everyone was out of the room before making it into the hall way rush to get out for the weekend. 

      I walked against the lockers trying not to let anyone touch me. I was suddenly rammed into a nearby locker and felt the lock rip some of my stitches. FML. I could feel the blood slowly and stealthily creep down to my pants belt loop. 

    I hauled ass to the nearest bathroom and put up the "closed for cleaning" sign up so no one came in.

    I hurried to the handicapped stall and pulled out some gauze, medical string, and a needle. I hadn't had to do this in school in ages. I quickly and sloppily sewed it up. Mental note to self 'Re-do stitches at home' . I finished and could smell the iron reeking off of my body. Yuck, but that was only me, no normal person could smell blood. 

     I started toward home very slowly. Humming Ave Maria along the way.

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So, How was the story hope it was good enough to keep reading and to keep writing let me know. Comment Vote and fan me to get more. 

THNXX ^_^