Chapter TwentyTwo- Disgusting Paper Eating

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Okay so I was really bored today and decided I would make a slideshow. Yes, it is a bit long but it features everyone (and I do mean everyone) in Sims version! Check it out and listen to the song while you do. Anyway if you watch it till the end which I hope you do...the last slide is pretty funny :D Also, if you want this chapter dedicated to you please leave me a comment saying what you like best about this story so far!

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Chapter TwentyTwo- Disgusting Paper Eating

June 24th: Waxing Crescent

    The door was opening painfully slow, as if the person behind it were going for the dramatic affect. It was quite annoying actually and I was tempted to go open it myself. Then I remembered Snow and I had to search discretely around the room to make sure he'd found a good hiding place. Thankfully he found residence under the bed, staring at the door with angered wolf eyes. 

    As the door still open at a snail's pace, I noticed that I still had the paper in my hand. I gagged a moment before shoving it in my mouth, softening it so I could swallow it down. I gagged again, trying to get the horrid paper taste out of my mouth before whoever was at the door came inside. 

    I was still working on the taste when finally the person opened the door normally. Standing there in all his angered glory was the guy who turned all werewolf on me and I then knocked him out. Behind him stood the other guy that had tried pulling me from the car. It was like a reunion. A we-all-got-knocked-out-so-lets-be-friends reunion except the guys looked more like they would rather change the lets be friends part to lets beat you up again. 

    "Your bruises healed nicely," I said, nearly slapping my hand over my mouth at how stupid I was. Why did my sarcastic mouth have to make an appearance then?

    Then seemed unfazed, however, as the next person appeared in the doorway. Lockheart stood there with a definite scowl, obviously having heard what I'd said to his little minions. A small bit of satisfaction hit me at the fact. Let him be angry, all the more reason for me to hate him. 

    "You're coming with me," Lockheart spoke sternly, his tone telling me that I had no say in the matter and I wasn't to pull anymore death stunts. 

    Seeing that there wouldn't be any harm - or so I hoped - in going with them, I got up from my spot on the ground and walked out the door. I could have sworn I'd heard a small growl emanate from under the bed where Snow was located. Thankfully the boys didn't seem to have heard him so the door shut behind us and we were off to wherever they were taking me. 

    Somewhere after my near death experience and passing out from my stupid memory again, I had regained a lot of my sarcastic confidence. At this point in time it probably wasn't the best idea for me to get to hasty with the sarcasm, but would I really be me without it. In fact it seemed to be missing from my life lately. I was having trouble remembering the last time - well besides a moment ago - I made a snarky comment. 

    So, it was due to happen as I followed the three boys outside, relishing in the cool air. It was like the worst mixture possible for them. Snarky attitude plus good weather equals a highly sarcastic me. Of course I was likely going to regret it later.

    "You know girls don't really like it when you command them to do things. In the future when you're looking for a girlfriend Lockheart I would suggest you tone down the brooding. It's unbecoming." Lockheart of course ignored me but I could see his fists clenched at his sides. For someone who in my memories claimed they loved me more than anything he seemed to get angered at me very easily. 

    "Fine, don't make any witty retort but just know that you're going to cause scars from you razor claws digging into your palms like that."

    Once again he ignored the comment but I now saw that he was trembling. A smirk played on my lips as I followed close behind, taking in the lush forest around us. The cabin we'd just left could now barely be made out through the thicket of trees. Barely any sunlight washed in through the tree cover. 

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