Why didn't the wolf kill me?


Hey this is my first story and i know it's going to be really bad but it's not my fault I'm not that good at making stories x.x


I never really realised just how little my mother cared until now. This is something that could result in my death, I will not be forced into doing this.

The thing is, my small town is filled with nightmares of fiction; such as werewolves and vampires and such and because of this as soon as you reach you're 16th birthday you have to be locked in an abandoned house with a creature of which your parents choose.

It just so happens my mum chose the one that is most dangerous, saying that it will build character and IF i survive she'll be able to show off to her friends about how amazingly brave and strong her daughter, is god i hate her for it. I know she doesn't care about me, it's all about appearances here, but life goes on no matter what.

In case you're wondering, my name is Evangelee but most people call me Eve because it's shorter and my name annoys the hell out of me, all i ask for is a normal name but no, I'm stuck with this one.

I have really dark brown longish hair that's basically black but it sometimes becomes a really light brown, my eyes seem to change between green, blue and grey depending on my mood and I'm quite short for my age according to a few people at my school, though i just think they're all freakishly tall which makes me look small.

Anyway, back to my pointless mental ramblings of hatred. The creature of darkness i have been sent to stay with for a week is a werewolf; these aren't the kind you see on twilight people, these are the kind that transform whenever they see moonlight and will attack anything they get there eyes on when in wolf form, they basically lose control of what they're doing and the beast takes over their actions meaning a constant hunt at night. They're stronger and faster than any other creature you have heard of or seen and 10 times the size of any normal wolf, these things were designed to kill at any cost.

Well lucky me my birthday is today, i thought sarcastically as my mum drove me to the house I would be spending a week at. Turns out my mum was at least kind enough to not send me here for a month, to which i will be grateful. This means I only have to spend a week getting hunted down by a murderous blood thirsty creature that wants nothing but my unholy demise, instead of a month making this whole thing tons easier.

"Here we are sweety", my mum said as we pulled up to an old house, "try not to die", oh well how nice of her to say that it's not like I wasn't already scared enough about this "whatever", I scoffed at her " it's your fault I could possibly die anyway", I finished. She looked upset, as if she actually cared for a moment, before going back to her 'I don't give a damn' expression. I jumped out of the car ready to enter (what would be for me) hell.


Okay so what do you think should i continue with this story because i don't want to be uploading if no-one will want to read it. I know it's short but I'm really tired and wanted the house and things to be in the next chapter so sorry.

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