Howl - Brieanna Boyce (free novel 24 TXT) 📗

at its normal pace as if I was just taking a stroll. I could feel the power of my body pushing me forward and then all of a sudden my muscles shuddered violently and I collapsed in the driveway of Tristan’s home. The pavement scraped cruelly against every jerk and move. I could feel my skin wanting to be covered in fur my teeth aching to grow into a row of long sharp daggers, my feet and hands to graceful paws.

I struggled painfully against it because I didn’t know if Delilah was watching or where she was. I knew she was waiting, watching, she was hoping now to find something to exploit and she was in luck because nothings more exploitable then being a werewolf.

“Skylar, you can’t do this to yourself you’re body needs to change especially in times of stress.” The she wolf lectured.

I got up stumbling ungracefully and shaking violently, I picked up the backs and dumped them on the table inside then made a treacherous journey up the stairs which now seemed to loom ominously over me. I took each step fearing I would fall and desperately yanking myself up the banister. And making my way too Tristan’s bed crumbling one part at a time onto it. I threw the sheets on top of myself and immediately fell into soothing sleep. I called to Tristan in my head and suddenly I was sucked into his thoughts. He wasn’t asleep and yet I was still in his head he was discussing cross country with my brother whom looked older already then I remember him. Had I really missed so much? He was literally turning into a man now which was a shock that was hard to recover from.

“Hold on a sec,” I heard Tristan say through his mind. He was having a hard time juggling Adoni’s talking with my dreaming. Adoni was also talking about his partaking in a group of which I didn’t know about called Helping Hands.

“It’s for people who’ve tried to commit suicide or family members of those who’ve succeeded.”

If I was awake I would have cried it must be so hard for Adoni losing Mom and I. I remember how heartbroken he was over losing mom he never recovered. I wonder how he reacted to my death. He seemed like he was able to manage in fact it seemed to make him stronger. I could feel pride swell up for my brother although I felt so distant I wanted to be there, to hug him, to say it’s all okay. I knew I couldn’t though.

I saw dad and he did not look like he got stronger, he seemed friendlier more outspoken, he had a special bond with Adoni now. I caught a train of thought in Tristan’s head where he had been thinking of how he now balanced work and time with Adoni and Tristan stayed with Adoni a majority of the time so he was never alone. The difference in dad though was still extreme. His hair had a massive amount of gray whereas before it was really just a tint of gray and deep wrinkles etched in his face. I hoped he didn’t worry about me and mom too much either. I hope no one blamed themselves for this. How badly had I hurt the one’s I cared about? Was I wrong to do this? Was I selfish?

I found myself growing antsy as much as I loved seeing dad and Adoni I didn’t know how long before I woke up and I needed to talk to Tristan. I felt a headache coming on in Tristan’s head; he excused himself from Adoni and dad’s presence, polite as always. He went to his room and focused all of his attention on our conversation. “Okay what.”

“Tristan I know I told you to leave but I need you to come back. Delilah is stalking me and my body’s demanding me to change.”

“Well you have to resist the urge.” Tristan commanded as if I was a moron.

“I am… for now but I have to eventually and your sister won’t leave me.”

“What did you do to piss her off so much?” Tristan asked.

I sheepishly muttered, “I may have broken a knuckle or two.”

I heard Tristan’s repressed sigh echo in his head. “Well I’m not going back.” He refused, he didn’t want to see Delilah he didn’t hate her but he had to make sure they didn’t see each other. He had a deep rooted hate for the queen. A hate like I’d never seen, purely black, no sympathy or remorse. He wanted her dead. Simple as that. He wasn’t going to risk it he wouldn’t go back not for anyone or anything even if it meant me dying.

So he didn’t care if I died or not. He didn’t care, did he ever care? Was I just a game to him? I felt dumb and although I had never done anything particularly sexual or demeaning with him I wanted suddenly to take a shower. I wanted to wash myself of him I wanted to scrub until my skin turned red and screamed. I awoke, I wanted to cry but I couldn’t, I had cried myself dry. So I simply got up and took a piece of paper and wrote: “So what now?”

I thought about it for awhile and decided hell with it I’ll figure it out. At the time it didn’t seem like the mature decision, but what was I supposed to do? I had hardly any money, no particular purpose, what would I do?

Well should I stay here? I mean I really had no money to go anywhere and no one would help me. However I had to leave I risked everything by just staying here. Delilah was getting more and more suspicious… maybe I was overreacting. Then again I’ve only known her two days and she’s already tried to choke me. Where could I go? Then it hit me, I looked around the room smirking and got the keys to a hummer that seemed to just have been collecting dust in his garage. I unlocked the door and left it open.

I raced around the house gleefully taking armfuls of Tristan’s things, sculptures, paintings, everything that seemed of value, even taking the marble countertops and easily loading them into the car; a feat that would’ve been impossible if I was human. Finally, when the car was loaded I went into the kitchen grabbed a lighter and went up to Tristan’s room I looked at the beautiful tapestry and felt a slow grin spread across my face as I lit it on fire. The image on the front of it only looked more ominous as the gorged through people in it were being burnt withering on the edges until the whole of the tapestry was engulfed in the flame my smile growing with it. I wasn’t satisfied until it was fully in flame then I went downstairs into the garage and got into the hummer peeling out and speeding down the street to every pawn shop I could find.

I was amazed at how expensive all these items were, by the time I was finished I had 12 million in my pocket. Then I sold the hummer and made my way to the nearest bus station. There was a long line but I didn’t particularly mind. The whole way up I tried to think of places to go. Maybe I could go to Ohio, What the hell’s in Ohio? I could go to California, Oh yeah the land of fake tans, fake hair, fake boobs and even more fake people you’ll really love it there. Okay France then, you idiot that’s in Europe.

Before I could continue having this odd inner conversation I was at the front of the line. “Where to?” The guy in the ticket booth asked. It was an easy enough question we get confronted with questions like these all the time. “Where to, what do you want, what do you like, where do you see yourself, who are you?” These questions that are so frequently asked of us never stop we even ask these questions of ourselves. These questions are supposedly the easiest that can ever be asked. The questions only we ourselves can know, there was no right or wrong questions and yet it was so very difficult to answer. Every other person here knew where they were headed. So why didn’t I? Was this due to my adolescence or was this more? Would I ever know? Perhaps everyone is lost all the time and merely blinded into thinking that they know when in fact we had no idea at all.

The people behind me were clearly irritated and the man behind the ticket booth asked me again where I was headed. I handed him a 100 dollar ticket and smiled. “Surprise me.”

He handed me a ticket and I didn’t bother looking at it except for trying to figure out where I was going. I didn’t want to know where I was going. I would let fate decide. So I boarded a bus and immediately fell asleep.

It was anything but relaxing; I had a dream that consisted of screams, screams that were high pitched. This dream was hauntingly familiar the popcorn ceiling and banana yellow walls were like a distant dream and then I remembered it was my room. However it was different, the bookshelf only held a dozen or so books and then I saw myself. I looked exactly the same except for I had my old dark green colored eyes. I got up from my bed and walked downstairs where I saw a familiar looking man strangle my mother. My mother looked at me and the man turned dropping my mother until she was gasping on the floor.

When the man turned I recognized him immediately, at the time I didn’t know him. His name was Blake Lockshurd; he was the substitute teacher for my French class and also the man who was searching for me the night I changed. The man’s voice from above the sewer caps…

He smiled and walked over to me, I didn’t think, I just attacked him punching him until my knuckles were bloody. However to my irritation he was not damaged, not a bruise or a scratch in fact he had a rather smug smirk. He touched the side of my face and spoke in a soft monotone. “You will sit down quietly and after tonight you will think that you’re mother died in a car accident, along with everyone else in town.” I was horrified when I saw myself nod in a blank stare and sit on a chair in the living room. Then Blake walked slowly up to mom, “For attempt of murder of the queen of vampires and for leading a conspiracy to overthrow the vampire society’s structure the penalty for which is death.” He approached her, my eyes blank and hers wide with horror and fear. That’s when I woke up in the bus screaming at 3:00am.

I looked around but there was only one other person. “We’ve arrived at the last stop.” I heard someone call. I got up and off the bus and I stared in utter disbelief. I had let fate lead me I could’ve landed in so many places but here I was New York City, I sighed thanked the man then got off and looked around.

Of all the places in the world I couldn’t believe I ended up in the one place that was deadliest to me. I could’ve turned around on that bus. I should’ve, but I didn’t. Instead I walked