Chasing Her {UNDER CONSTRUCTION}

Chasing Her - Prologue

[A/N]: Okay so this is my first shot at a werewolf story and if I don't get that much of a response/liking to this story, then I don't think I'm going to going writing. So, let's just see how everything goes! Oh, and don't be afraid to tell me anything that's wrong with the story, whether it's about werewolves or grammar/spelling. Okay that's enough talking! On to the story! 

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Chasing Her - Prologue 

Hazel Smithe (pronounced 'Smith') 

My paws fiercefully hit the wet ground, causing mud to splatter and taint my snow white coat. Even though I was running faster than I knew I could, it wasn't fast enough. By the time I would reach Evan, he'd probably already be dead.

As I ran along, I tripped over a log and tumbled across the forest floor. My body ached and wished that I would stop running. I disobeyed it's command, and carried on. In the distant I heard wolf cries and the sound of flesh being torn apart. I cringed and skidded to a stop right before an open field. Before me I saw three vicious dark black wolves attacking my best friend. 

The wolves paid no attention to me, they were too caught up in seeing blood. After what felt like ten years, the wolves finally ran off, leaving me to attend to Evan. I quickly transformed back into a human and slipped some clothes on before approaching him.

Gashes covered his body, allowing blood to pour endlessly out of him. 

"Evan.." I whispered as I held onto his hand, that was quickly getting colder. I watched as he slowly moved his head to look me in the eyes. Tears began to stream down my face. "Evan.. I'm.. I'm so sorry." 

"It's.. it's.. n-not your.. f-fault.." He trembled, barely able to talk. I cupped his face in my hands, letting the tears freely flow. With one last look at him, I said the words that I thought he would need to know the most. 

"I love you, Evan..." I whispered so quietly that I wasn't sure if he could hear me. "Wait for me on the other side, okay?"

"I-i.. love.. you too.." He said, them smiled slightly. "I'll.. a-always... w-wait for you." 

I kissed him the lips one last time and watched as he slowly drifted away. I laid down on the ground next to him, his hand still in mine and cried until I thought I couldn't cry anymore. I sat there forever, repeating to him every single memory I could think of.

"Do you remember that time when I pushed you off the swing in third grade?" I said, with tears in my eyes. Although they were sad tears, I'm sure there was some happy in there too. "You broke your arm and got that pink cast, just because it was my favorite color. I remember wanting to be the first one to sign it, so when my brother did, I got so angry that I made them get you a new cast, just so I could sign first.. Oh and then remember when we went camping in the woods in seventh grade..." 

My stories went on forever and ever, in fact, I was even surprised I remembered almost all of them. When I finally ran out of memories, I curled up next to the lifeless body of my friend and slept. After what felt like an hour of sleep, I felt something or someone pick me up.

"Evan.." I whispered, and blinked my eyes open, hoping to see him alive and carrying me like he always used to. Instead I was greeted by my older brother, Oliver's, face. I instantly frowned, remembering everything that happened.

"He's gone now, Hazel.." My brother replied just as quietly. A feeling of shock and depression shot through my whole body. Strangely, once he first died, these were not the feelings I had felt. I guess my heart was not fully aware of him being dead until someone said it aloud. 

"He shouldn't be!" I said, wrapping my arms around my brother's neck and crying into his shoulder. My whole body shock fiercefully as more tears poured onto my Oliver's shirt.

"But he is.." I heard Oliver say. I looked up to see his lips moving, but I could hear nothing except what sounded like thunder. My brain went fuzzy, as black dots began to cloud my vision. Within seconds, all of my senses had disappeared and I was sitting by a lake. 

"Evan! Evan, where'd you go?" I called nervously. My eyes darted around finding nothing but trees and grass. Standing up, someone's hands were placed over my eyes. 

"Guess who?" A familiar voice questioned. Right away, I knew it was Evan, but no one ever actually guessed right. 

"My brother?" I joked.

"Which one?" He replied, knowing that I had two brothers.

"Oliver." 

"Nope." 

"Nick Jonas?" I said, barely able to contain my laughter. Evan let out a chuckle before saying 'no' once again. "Joe Jonas?" 

We both began cracking up, and Evan quickly spun me around. I looked into his deep brown eyes and knew instantly that I loved him. Although he wasn't my mate, I still loved him just the same. I just prayed that we wouldn't actually find our mates and have to leave each other. 

He looked into my dark forest-green eyes and smiled brightly. 

"What?" I questioned lightly.

"You're so beautiful." His whispered before kissing me gently on the lips. 

The world returned to me as my younger brother, Alden, violently shook my shoulders. I slowly blinked, seeing my brother's faces above me. They both sighed in relief and began asking me questions. 

"What happened?" Oliver questioned just as Alden said, "What were you doing?" 

I quickly explained everything to them, only sparing them some details. After they finally had enough information, they walked out of the room and I was left to sleep peacefully in my bed. That night, I cried myself to sleep, thinking that maybe if I was lucky I wouldn't get up in the morning. 

---------------------------------- Two weeks Later --------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure you want this tattoo?" Oliver asked me for the millionth time as we stood inside the tattoo parlor. I looked up at him and sighed, annoyed with him.

"If I wasn't sure, would I be here?" I told him. My eyes darted nervously around the room before returning to the same place I'd been staring at forever. I watched carefully as the man who was going to give me my tattoo sketched it out on the special paper. After ten more minutes of anxious waiting, he finally said he was done. 

I approved of the sketch, and he quickly got to work on my tattoo. He transfered the design onto my lower back and then asked me if I was ready. I over-confidently (and maybe too loudly) told him that I was one hundred percent ready for this tattoo. 

Without warning, he pressed the needle into the design and pain soared through my nervous system. I took a deep breath, and soon the pain wasn't that big of a deal. 

"So why did you decide to get this tattoo, missy?" The man, who's name turned out to be Dave, asked me  after a little bit. I took in another deep breath and began telling him the story. 

"Well, just recently my best friend, Evan, died.." I flinched a little as I said his name. "Whenever I was sad or lonely he would always seem to cheer me up just by saying 'Somethings may hold you down like anchors at sea, but always remember one thing: Refuse To Sink. No matter how much you want to give up, keep on going, just for me.' Even though it wasn't his quote, it still inspired me to keep going, even when I just wanted to give up so bad." 

"That's quite a story." Dave replied before focusing back on my tattoo. The rest of the appointment we were completely silent, and once it was over I was glad. I looked at my tattoo in the mirror and knew that it was absolutely perfect.