Chloë Grace Moretz is Sandra:)

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It was the month of October, the clouds were grey overhead and rain was pouring from them. This was my favourite month of the year as halloween would soon be upon us. Oh, how I couldn't wait to dress up as whatever I wanted without the whole mocking ritual. But, for now, I had to deal with the laughter of others who attended my school.

As I walked to school, Elijah by my side, it dawned on me; I hadn't thought of a costume.

"This is terrible!" I cried, clutching my black hair.

"What? What is it, Emily?" he asked, his tone as boring as usual as he brushed his greasy fringe away from his shallow eyes.

"I'm not prepared, I'm always prepared."

"Oh.." he trailed off in understanding.

Elijah knew me well enough by now to know that I'd forgotten the most important thing in my life; a costume. He had a 'thing' for me, everything I said he took in. Everything I liked, he got me. I'd taken the hint when he gave me a valentines last year, only he knew about my obsession for voodoo dolls. I haven't brought the subject up, ever, it'd only be awkward.

So, here I was, in a terrible fluster. Okay. I had to calm down, I had 30 days, surely that'd be enough time. Shrugging it off, I proceeded to walk, leaving the topic for later. Elijah moved over, his hand dropping out from within his pocket, he hung it close to mine. Having felt the touch of his skin against mine, I pulled it away, letting it rest on my stomach; that'd have to do. And, as usual, a slight frown emerged on his lips, and, as always, I acted as if I hadn't noticed.

A sigh of relief was withdrawn from my lips as he we seperated, thank god we had different lessons: I don't think I could face an hour with him.

With a clatter of my chair, and the scrape of the legs against the laminate floor, I'd sat myself down in the dreary science lab. The scents from previous chemicals lingered through the classroom, gossip errupting as others came in. Then came the popular girls, three of them filed in, one after the other, their heads held high. Queue the slime!.. I wish. Smug smiles tugged at their perfectly pink lips, their blonde/brunette hair flowing behind them. Oh how I despised them, each and everyone of them. They walked around as if they owned the school, as if men would fall at their feet. Luckily, everyone saw past their heavy make-up and 'generous' acts. Yet they praised them, in hope they'd become one of them. Me, I didn't follow the crowd.

Sandra, the leader of the group, parted her lips, her hands on her hips she was just about to insult me, then-

"Right class!" Bellowed Mr. Wilson, ordering the class to settle down.

The clatter of chairs were to be heard as students rushed to their seats, including Sandra. Class had begun and already I'd dazed off, notebook open before me I began to draw whatever came to mind. And there I found myself drawing a very unrealistic Marilyn Manson, my mind wandering as I tried to fathom on what my costume would be. I knew it had to be better than the year before, and what could top a slutty zombie? Scary, I know. It's impossible to beat.

As I searched the classroom, I chewed harshly on my lower lip, almost enough for it to bleed. What could I be? My gaze was drawn to a poster on bacteria, no, I wasn't a health freak. Sandra? She wasn't scary enough, yes, she had been known to scare me, but her face didn't quite make me scream. I'd done vampire, i'd done alien and i'd done zombie. Thinking over the books I'd read, I recalled a certain mythical book, what was it about again..? Oh. Yes. Werewolfs.

Every full moon a mere human would experience the most painful transformation of all. Their spines would arch, claws piercing their skin. Their teeth would elongate, their sense of smell and hearing sharper than it had been before. That's what I wanted to be, of course I'd been through a lot of phases, from wanting to be a vampire to wanting to be a zombie. They changed frequently.

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