This is my first time posting. I'm open to ideas about what you want to happen in the story and criticism. Hope you like it.
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Moving always sucks. You have to organize, pack, load up the vehicle, make many round trips, unload the vehicle, unpack and last but not least, organize all your shit again. Like I was said before, moving always sucks. What was worst is that I and my father wouldn't even be moving if it wasn't for me. A year ago I was attacked by an actual werewolf. I was at cheer camp and was taking a late night stroll in the woods when all of a sudden I woke up in the hospital, broken with many lacerations and bruises. I didn't remember anything about the attack. The authorities thought it was a big wolf or bear. They really had no idea what happened that night. What they did know was that I was the fifth and only person to be attacked and survive in the past month. I would still be clueless as to what attacked me, if I had not of shifted the month after the attack.
I was in the basement of my dad's house, which was re-enforced with cement and metal, when I started to shift. My dad was out working at the family restaurant when it happened. Amazingly after the shift, I felt like myself. With the exception that I was hairy, had paws and a tail. That's when I looked in the mirror and saw that I was a wolf; white, petite, and had blue-gray colored eyes just as I did in human form. It was the freakiest moment of my life. I was a werewolf, and I was calm, not hysterical or angry, but calm and...hungry. I thought of pizza but an image of meat, bloody and raw, appeared in my head. I looked around and saw the refrigerator that my dad had in the basement for storage of more food. I pawed it open and found the desired meat: Six 15 oz. steaks, raw and bloody. I ate and fell asleep soon after. That was how it went for the next six months, but I started to get restless. Well, not me, and this may sound crazy, but it seemed like this thing inside of me was the one that was restless and it put me on edge. I became short with people and rude and aggressive, which the last part was a little difficult for people to take serious when your only about 5'3", but that ended when I beat the hell out of them. I was house bound for that first month to heal and surprisingly that was all it took.
My dad found out about the new me the third month that I had changed. He came home early from the restaurant and found me, as the wolf, asleep on the floor of the basement. He fell in his haste to get away and I rushed up to him and nudged his hand with my head and gave a little whine. He crawled backwards trying to get away but I just kept following him; crawling on my stomach and whinnying. I rolled over and put my head on his lap and licked his hand. His eyes softened and he softly said my name, "Miley." It wasn't a question but a statement. I gave a whine and he sighed and continued to pet my head. The next morning we had a discussion about what I had become, he professed he would always love me and support me; he also deemed me to be of sound mind and not dangerous to others.
Like I was said before, my wolf became restless; like it was caged by me being in the city and not being able to let it out and run. My father saw what was happening and made the decision to move us some place that was woodsy and I could let my wolf run free; which brings us to the present. My father, Nico Lombardi, moved us to a small town named Wolment (population 3,500) which was an hour and a half drive to the nearest city and ten hours away from their previous residence. My dad said that we have a few relatives from my mom's side of the family that still lived there; I've never meet them, though my dad has. He said they were some nice people. Dad was smart and hired a moving company to move everything to Wolment in one go, though it cost him a pretty penny. He turned over the running of his restaurant to his younger brother, my favorite uncle, Marco, and made the agreement that he would go and check on the restaurant twice a month and do the necessary duties of owning a restaurant that only the owner can perform. Even though he moved away and cannot do the everyday managing of the restaurant himself, our income from the restaurant wouldn't change. My dad was a doctor when my mom was killed five years ago. After my mother's death he resigned and opened a restaurant, which became successful. Having moved to Wolment, my dad decided to go back to medicine, which he was greatly needed as a part time doctor at the town's medical center. All looked liked it would be a simple living from here on end, but we will soon find out that simple will never be in a combination when involving a werewolf. Especially when one has moved into Pack territory without asking permission, and not even realize it.
I woke up feeling refreshed and rested for the first time in months. The night before I had finally let my wolf run to its heart's content. I felt like myself again and that made this morning perfect, because it was my first day at my new school. I got up and started looking for an outfit. Though I didn't too much care for fashion, somehow everything I wore looked like it could have come from a magazine or something. This morning I decided on super low riding, dark washed skinny jeans, my yellow and gray plaid cotton shirt, gold and jewel encrusted flats, and my everyday charm necklace and a pair of diamond stud earrings. I brushed my teeth and left my long light golden brown and slightly wavy hair down (which when lose, reached my tiny waist) and grabbed my purse and went down to say bye to my dad.
In a refreshing voice I said, "Bye dad, I'm off to school."
Lifting his coffee cup and kissing me on the cheek he replied, "Bye honey, learn something."
I got into my new 2009 silver convertible Mercedes CLK550 Cabriolet, which I got for my eighteenth birthday from my father. I loved my car. Not because it was flashy, but because my father picked it out and surprised my with it at school on my birthday. That is a memory that will stay with me forever.
I pulled up at my school and walked to the office, catching all the stares I got: awe, jealously, lust and curiosity. The town was made up of historical buildings, but the high school looked the exception. Brick, wood and columns, it looked like your typical high school. The elementary school wasn't so lucky. Vice Principal Marken showed me around the school and to my classes. It was a short trip considering how small the building was. My class schedule was Algebra, U.S. History, P.E., Lunch, 12th English, Italian IV, Chemistry, Art. The only class I was excited about was P.E. I loved to run and couldn't wait. I walked to my first class and glanced around on the way. Lockers were everywhere and so too were the staring students whom they belonged to.
A tall skinny blond girl walked up, smiled and hugged me. "Hi, I'm Beth, and you must be Miley. I'm your cousin from your mom's side. Your dad called my mom and asked her to tell me to be on the lookout for you. Welcome to Wolment High School; home of the Beavers."
I extended my hand for a shake and walked into Algebra. "Hi Beth, nice to meet you."
Beth and I walked into class. My algebra teacher was a round old woman with short white hair. "Morning class, we have a new student who will be joining us for the rest of the school year. Her name is Miley Maria (Ma-Ree-ah) Lomb..."
" Uhm, it's actually pronounced with no accent on the Ree. It's like saying Mario on the game except that it's ria instead of rio. It's just supposed to roll off your tongue." I looked a little embarrassed and blushed. "I'm not meaning to contradict or anything, but it was my mother's name before I died and out of respect for her I just wanted to give the correct pronunciation of my name; Miley Maria Lombardi."
"I understand perfectly. I'm the same way. Class, give Miley a welcome and then let's begin."
That is how it went for the rest of the day. Beth looked at my schedule and told me we had two classes together; P.E being one of them. It had started to rain outside, so we played volleyball inside during P.E. Lunch had ended and I was tired and ready to go home. When I walked into my English, I saw my teacher go ram rod straight and her face go blank. I wasn't feeling a good vibe at all. She walked passed me and down the hall. I have no clue where she went, be she was back pretty quick and started the class. There was no introduction, but she did stare at me a lot. I decided that this would be the class I dreaded the most. Yup, its official, students' feelings for high schools are the same everywhere.
As I was walking to my car Beth came up. "I want to invite you and your dad to dinner at my house. I think my mom already talked to your dad, but I'm just saying so now because she is forgetful." She smiled and I couldn't help but say I'll tell my dad.
The drive home wasn't long; less than ten minutes. When I arrived home, no one was there. Dad left a note saying he would be back around six. I went up to my room and discarded my clothes ready to have a nice hot bath, when the door bell rang. I wrapped a towel around me and went to see who it was. When I cracked the door, six huge guys rushed in, and one grabbed me and carried me on his shoulder to the living room. He threw me on the couch non- too gentle and all six of them stood before me with serious expressions on their faces.
