Wolfsbane- Chapter One in the Warren Pack Series

Chapter Four

Wolfsbane

Chapter 4

Branwen

Everything, closing in...

The air was thin, and I could barely gasp in a breath...

It was sweltering hot...

I woke up in a tangle of my duvet, on my stomach with my face smashed into the pillow. I was dripping wet, the bottom sheet soaked in my sweat once again.

I lifted my head up, my head spinning, and squinted for my phone in the dark. The moonlight seemed to light up my room and I grasped it, flipping it over, hissing at the brightness.

3:07

Huh. Still a good two hours until sunrise, why was it so damn bright?

I tried to go back to sleep, but I just ended up tossing and turning until my 6:00AM alarm buzzed off my bedside table with a thud. I rubbed my eyes in discomfort, and heaved myself off the bed.

As she was 'On Holiday', getting ready for school was a breeze. I didn't have to constantly sneak around in the dark in fear of waking her up, and managed to grab a quick shower, dress and get my spare shirt ironed for later.

Ah, the last day (officially) of school, I had made it!

With thoughts of nightmares and injuries forgotten, I walked out the door with a wide smile on my face, nothing could bring me down, not today.

So, maybe one thing could bring me down, just a peg.

I'd barely made it to registration when the intercom buzzed. Mr. Stewart's eyes flicked up from his book, totally disinterested in controlling his class on their last day. Chairs had been moved, music was blasting from portable speakers, and markers were being passed around the class for people to sign their shirts with.

"Yes?"

"Morning, Charles. Is 13.2 still with you?" The receptionist's voice crackled through the speaker.

"Unfortunately. Which one do you want?"

"Can you send Miss. Warren to the front desk please?"

My stomach tightened, oh no.

"Of course." He released the button, meeting my eyes, "Take your bag with you, Branwen."

I gave a fast smile to the boys as I slung my bag back over my shoulder and disappeared out the door. The halls were deserted as I walked down the English corridor, as there was still fifteen minutes left before first lesson started. My footsteps echoed off the polished floors, and I took the time to look around at the peeling paint in the corners, the radiators that were hotter than lava no matter what time of year, and the same posters that had been here since I was a tiny first year.

I guess I'd miss the place, but not the people, or the atmosphere.

I nodded to the receptionist once I reached the foyer, and she gave me a warm smile," Mrs. Roberts wants to speak to you one last time, sweet."

Mrs. Roberts, the child support officer. I forced a smile and carried my legs towards the office, keen to get this over with. Two years ago, I had a panic attack in class, and the teacher had returned from the printer to see several kids pointing and laughing as I suffered. I was referred to Mrs. Roberts once a month from then on, for all the good it did.