Prison Mate

Chapter 2: Dystopian Pack

I look down at the thick stack of papers in my hand, wondering just the hell as to why I need a fucking permission slip. First of all, I'm 18, I mean I guess that's not the new adult age anymore with the new smoking laws and all that, but I'd still like to think so. Secondly, what type of shit are we going to be doing at that prison? Hell, it's mandatory so this is really just a waste of paper.

"Man I bet you are salty about this," Darian says, taking a seat next to me as we sit in the completely empty school library. This is about the most peaceful place in town, why come here if you have a phone? He's sure as hell is right though. This is wrong.

My head slowly nods as I read through the pages, thinking this thing sounds like a death wish. They wouldn't do this for just any reason, that'd be silly and I know they're smarter than that. "Yup, we gonna die tomorrow," I say with fake enthusiasm. Listen, I love to live my boring life as much as the next person, but this is not how I want to go.

Darian gives me a small shrug and scoots closer to look at my paper, "What's some theories you got? I know you love conspiracies," he says with a smirk. He isn't wrong, there's a lot things in this world, and some of them just do not make sense. Like, how did we even become werewolves? My human and wolf form have different sized bones and my wolf has fur, the genetics and science of that is just crazy, I cannot wrap my head around it.

As for this, there's so many, but they're all pretty vague. I'd need more information before I could make a good assumption. "I'm not sure just yet, but ask me again tomorrow and I will give you a ten page essay per theory," I say, picking up the stack of papers in my hands. It's getting late and I need at least some sleep tonight.

"I knew you would," he says, standing up.

I pack up the rest of my stuff and we leave the school. By this time we leave it's dark out and the streets are lit by some old street lights. This town feels so weirdly unsafe at night because all you see are guards roaming around, making sure nobody is up to funny business. You'd think that would make you feel safe, but they're awful, they treat everybody like dirty over the smallest mistakes.

Darian's house is along the way to mine, so we just split ways there for the night, both of us ready to hit the hay. The rest of the walk shouldn't take long, so I'll be in the same position (in bed) as him soon.

A few steps later and deep growl makes me stop in my tracks, I turn my head and see one of the night guards looking at me straight in the eyes. The moonlight reflects his practically black eyes, making them look devious. Shit, what does he want? "What are you doing out this late?" he asks me through mindlink because wolves can't talk like our human forms.

If only I could roll my eyes, that'd be great, but this situation is bad as is. "Sir, I just came back form school," I say, gritting my teeth. When we were young, we were taught customs and courtesies, but some people don't deserve them. The thing is, we can get in trouble if we don't use them. Some people have to do community service while others went to jail over it.

He doesn't even blink for the time we talk, "Go home immediately and there will be no consequence," he says, backing down from his attack stance. Really? I have never heard of my pack having a curfew, I've been out in the middle of the night many times and have passed many guards that did not do anything. This is a new kind of bullshit.

I swallow what foul words I want to say and reply in a shaky breath, "Yes sir." I turn away and start walking away as I hold onto the top of my shirt. The rest of my walk is filled with nervous looking around for other guards, but thankfully none of them approached me.

As soon as I walk through the front door of my house my mother runs up to me and gives me a big hug, "Honey, why the hell are you out past dark?" she asks all worried, scanning my body for hell knows what, "Don't you know the alpha implemented a curfew today?" she asks, letting go of me.