1- Forks, Washington

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Forks, Washington was exactly 3,025.1 miles from my home, and therefore my pack. It was a distance so great it severed all ties with my pack. In one day, I became utterly alone. And who was to blame? My parents. They never liked that I phased and they didn't. It bothered them so much that they made me leave.

It's not like my life with my pack was all that great, to begin with, but it was something. They never really liked how small my wolf form was compared to theirs, and they always blamed my inability to do things as the crux of every problem. I always knew their egos caused all of the issues, but I never told them that. That would only make them hate me more.

So, we moved.

Across the country.

To a town where there was already a pack of wolves.

The Quileute tribe would cause me trouble down the road, but when we moved there, none had phased. Of course, the elders all knew of their potential, but I stayed far away from all of them in hopes I wouldn't anger another pack. That would probably be the worst thing I could ever do.

"Emma! Get down here!"

Second worst. The absolute worst thing I could do was anger my parents.

"Coming!" I yelled just loud enough for my parents to hear me, but not loud enough for it to be considered shouting. After three years of living in that specific house, it was a volume I had perfected.

I got up off of the floor I was cleaning and ran downstairs toward the sound of my mother's voice. As I reached the bottom, I looked to see my parents staring at me in disgust. "What?" I asked.

"Why didn't you do the dishes yet?" I swear, my mother's voice could cause fear in any person, and she used that to her advantage all the time.

I shifted my weight to my other foot as I answered. "I was about to do them after I finished cleaning the floors upstairs."

"That is unacceptable," my father told me. His voice was so deep it rattled me to my core every time he yelled. I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but I knew it would.

I looked down, avoiding their gaze. "I can do it now if you'd like."

"No! Now it is too late! We have no dishes for dinner!"

I knew the rest of the night would consist of more chores, no food, and a nightmare-filled sleep, but I was used to it. I didn't know any other life, but I could tell my life was different than those at school. So, I never mentioned my home life to anyone; I just made up stories and excuses for anything involving my parents or my past. It was easier that way.

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