My name is Annebelle Argent I am the daughter of Alexander Argent. I was born in 1978, and was was raised to be a hunter. My father died in 1977 before I was born, so my mother taught me all about what hunters do and why.
But it wasn't until I was 12 when I started looking at things differently. I had just found out why my father died. She told me that he had died after being bitten by a werewolf, but neglected to tell me that he killed himself because of it.
That day created a rift between me and my entire family. It was their code that said if you're bitten you have to die and I could never get past that.
It wasn't too long after that I decided I didn't want to live the life of a hunter. But i had to keep up appearances, so I continued to study and train as if nothing had happened.
I kept learning and training and a year later I made my first weapon. I enjoyed it so much I made it my hobby, and only two years later I was making weapons for other hunters. I used this as an excuse to not go hunting and because I was so good my mother allowed it. And every time she went out hunting I would add to my plan of escape.
My 15th birthday was less than a month away and I planned to leave with my friends the night before.
Every time my mother brought up my birthday I would act happy so she wouldn't be suspicious. And when the time came I waited until I knew she was asleep and I climbed out the window - with a few bags I packed the week before - and jumped off the small two-story high roof.
Once I was on the ground I ran to my motorcycle I had hidden around the corner. I got on and rode to the diner in town and pulled out my map to see which direction I needed to go to get to Beacon Hills.
AN:// for anyone reading this, please leave a comment on how you feel about this chapter and any edits I should make.