Chapter 1: Chapter 1️⃣
Fuck everyone, they have no fucking rights to question my life style.
Hi I'm Ava, I turned in to my wolf for the first time wen I was fourteen, with was weird because regular wolves should transform when they turn 18, only an alpha wolf could transform earlier but even the alpha wolves transform only wen the turn sixteen. I think that my early transformation aroused fear from the other pack mates as they feared that I might have incurred the wrath of the goddess. Due to this insane theory they came up with the alpha forbid me from turning into my wolf which isn't fair because every wolf had to transform into their wolves to remain sane, and now its getting up to four years now since I last transformed and its a surprise to everyone in the pack including myself that my sanity is still intact, but its still unfair that I am not allowed to transform.
I learnt to trust no one in the pack including my family, because I had no idea what they thought about me, I still remember my parent calling me a monster when I first transformed, and even now they treat me like I am insane, that's why I never told anyone about the weird marks on my arms and torso, it started forming after I first transformed and I hid it from everyone, I wore long sleeved shirts that covered my arms down to my wrists I avoided any situation that required me pulling off my shirt, which meant no parties, no swimming, no boyfriends,no sleepovers, and no tanning, I had fairer skin than most girls which makes the pack underestimate me, but I don't care though.
"Ava!!!!!! ", Roxy, my younger, screamed.
Dang she sounded like a shrieking cat, and I am trying to get some sleep
"What the fuck is your problem Roxanne"
"Mom is calling you for dinner"
"I am coming"
I dragged myself off my sweet cozy bed and went down for dinner, Dad was wearing an apron as he stirred the spaghetti in the pot, while Mom was setting the table, my Mom was a terrible cook, her food tasted like a cow's dump, ewww. Well I can cook but its kind of twisted, u know like people are stress eaters, stress walkers and all, I am a stress cooker, it probably sounds weird but that's the truth the most shocking thing is that if I try to cook without being stressed, then it tastes like mom's cooking, a cow dump.
I sat at the table and suddenly the atmosphere became tensed, it was awkward for me and for all involved, this was one of the reasons I eat alone in my bedroom, Dad cleared his throat and Mom kept staring at me, it was like she was expecting me to jump on top of the table and scream bloody murderer, and my sister kept pushing her food around her plate and my little brother, well he stared wide eyed and blabbed nonsense (he was a six months old baby) the tension was so thick and I couldn't stand it, I was about to excuse myself when Dad said
"Jessica will be transforming today"
Jessica was my cousin, she and I we're the same age, she turned eighteen today and I was two weeks older than her
"OK" it was all I said before I stood up and left.
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