A Lycan Fit For A Luna

Chapter 1: My Dad's Final Decision

Fortuitously, I am being let off with a warning, as I did not have any alcohol in my system, and I didn't have any on me. I was just waiting for the girls outside. But, I did get a lecture from a middle aged, single woman with a village of warts growing like bacteria on her face about falling in with the 'wrong crowd'. Well Hunny, if you joined a crowd maybe you would not be the disaster you are today! I know I am being mean, but I am salty about the fact they will not let me go on my own. As I am not eighteen yet, (hurry up birthday!) my dad has to come and sign the papers for my release. I was also arrested a couple of months back for trespassing on private property, so he is not going to be happy that he has to collect his delinquent daughter up from the station again. Fortunately, I do not have to go to court or be fined, although I do not think that Sara and Regina have been quite as fortunate as me, as I can hear them blubbering like new-born babes from across the hall. Their parents are going to flip when they see the bail money and charges pressed against them!

Being in a jail cell is not fun or cool like the movies portray. It is tedious, foetid and aggravating. Take right now for example, I am in a cell with three other people. One of them, an older lady that should know better, has her head in her hands, looking extremely weary. I can smell what she is in here for; she stinks of meth. She was probably dealing it for easy money to some reckless teenagers. Another girl, dressed like a hooker, is passed out in the corner. I can hear her heart beat though, so she will be fine. No need to cause a commotion. She probably got in trouble for some stupid drunk crime. Idiot. And then the last lady is theatrically singing 'My Heart Will Go On', incredibly high pitched and squeaky and all around plain badly. I have a headache.

Sara and Regina are around the corner from me, along with Neve, who was arrested like me for waiting for the girls outside. We are innocent I tell you! Well, mostly. I hope that she was let off like I was. I wish I was in a cell with them; that would have made my time in here at least slightly more bearable, but alas, I am again the odd one out, sharing a cell with a bunch of freaks.

When my dad finally decides to come and collect me, I am just about ready to rip my hair out. The crazy bitch who has now moved onto singing 'I Believe I Can Fly,' can be put to the back of my mind and hopefully soon be forgotten about. However, I am sure that with my eidetic memory it will take a few years to get that disturbing scene out of my brain. Seriously, I want to smack her into an early death; I would rather listen to a knife or fork scratch their way sluggishly down a plate instead of her headache inducing voice. However, prison just isn't my style.

"Miss Johnson? Your father is here to collect you." A deep manly voice pulls me out of my thoughts about how when a pregnant women swims, she is basically a submarine.

Sweet potato fries! The prison guard is so young and hot, with a brooding glare settled onto his face like stone. I do love the moody ones... I have often read about the way they take out all of their frustrations in bed, and loose it like some ferocious beast, which is undeniably hot. I stare agape at him, trying to pull my disordered self together, suddenly rather conscious of my messed up hair and un-glossed lips. I blatantly check him out, eyes wondering mischievously whilst I chew on my bottom lip, but he coughs me out of my daze and narrows his eyes at me, then nudges me forward. Gah! How embarrassing. Stupid teenage hormones! Hmm, I wonder if he secretly thinks I'm hot though? However, all of my crazy teenage thoughts are swiped out from underneath me as soon as I see my dad with his thundery glare. Oops.

"Hay daddy..." I start, but am quickly silenced with a livid, immobilising scowl from him.

"I'm sorry about all this... I didn't actually do anything wrong though! My friends stole some alcohol, but I didn't have anything to do with it, I promise!" I ramble on.

I am quite a daddy's girl, and I hate to upset him, but then again I am fiercely independent and hate being told what to do. I watch on in awkwardness as my dad signs the release papers and then storms off, probably to the car. This is not good at all. I can cope with my dad shouting... it is just a fleeting moment of anger with him then, but with silence... my death certificate is signed. Shit. He is so mad right now! I need to diffuse this situation before I am cut up into tiny little pieces and shipped to disguisedly cute elves to be made into mince pies. Whoops, that's my imagination running wild again. I know dad would never hurt me... but sometimes his punishments are worse then an ephemeral moment of pain. For example, there was a time when he took my phone away for a whole week just because I snuck out... four times consecutively to meet this cute guy I was infatuated with. I thought he was one of the good guys, but it turned out he just wanted to steal my virginity, but I never lose anything, so he had to be cut loose.