Run

Life is cruel when you're a thirteen year old orphan. You're constantly reminded of how worthless and unwanted you are. Not having a soul to confide in makes it even worse and lonely.

I made the mistake of thinking I had a friend once. Tristen Harris became my partner in crime after he was dropped off here, at Lexington Orphange, by Child Services.

Our friendship is short-lived as he is now one of my many tormentors. Even our damn caretaker hates me and treats me like shit. I suffer and endure all kinds of abuse due to just my existence.

Have you ever heard the saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me"?

Yeah, that's straight bullshit. Whoever thought of it can shove it back up their a**. People are cruel, and their words can leave deep scars that take time to heal.

I should know. There aren't many insults I haven't already heard, but it still doesn't make them any less lethal than the first time.

Dealing with verbal abuse isn't as bad as the physical abuse. No child should be made to beg for food.

Ms. Stevens, our caretaker or temporary guardian, has thrown me into the basement more times than I can count.

Anything goes wrong, she finds a way to blame me and throws me into the cold and stinky basement. She leaves me in there for days without food.

When she decides to let me out, she gives me scraps, the leftover food from the previously used plates.

I overheard her tell one of the other kids once that she's teaching me a lesson in discipline and respect. Pfft. I haven't disrespected anyone here, not even the kitchen staff.

I should've expected it, though. That b*tch is evil, and her heart is full of hate. I'm the only one assigned cleaning duties. Every day, I mop and sweep every hall in the building.

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are laundry days, and yes, I have to do everyone's laundry, including Ms. Stevens' laundry. Overgrown ass.

It's takes two days to get through the kid's laundry. There are a total of forty kids here, and all of them change their clothes at least three times throughout the day. Don't ask me why.

Thursday, I spent half the day washing Ms. Stevens' clothes. Once I'm done, I immediately start washing mine. I don't have much, so it takes little time to get done.

Tuesdays and Fridays, I work in the kitchen. They use me mainly for dish duty and cleaning up after meals.

It isn't hard, but they only give me an hour and a half to be done with everything. Most nights, I'm lucky enough to sneak food into my pocket and save it for later.

I dont remember much about my life before the orphange. What I do remember is that Im not human.

My parents weren't human, and we lived in a wooded area near the mountains. I remember my father morphing into an enormous beast right before my eyes.

His nose became a muzzle. His hands and nails became huge paws with elongated claws. Black fur begins to sprout from his skin.

His green eyes turned to a lilac shade. His teeth were razor sharp. I remember my father being the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on.

I only remember my mother in human form. She had the prettiest grey eyes and olive toned skin. Her smile was bright and comforting.

Her voice was a melody to my ears. It was warm and soothing. I miss them. I wish I could remember what happened to them and how I ended up here.

Sometimes, I wonder if they're alive or if they're looking for me. I'd do anything to hear my mom's voice again or to feel the warm embrace of one of my father's famous bear hugs.

If I were an ordinary human, this hellhole of an orphanage would have broken me a long time ago. Thankfully, werewolves can survive on little amounts of food, along with the ability to heal quickly.

In my case, healing abilities are an advantage against physical abuse. I always hope things will change, and that one day, everyone will stop treating me so poorly. Every day that goes by, my hope diminishes piece by piece.

The events that occurred earlier today were the last straw.

After sneaking my food and finishing my kitchen duties, I made my way to the girls' dormitory hall. Upon entering, I hear the onset of footsteps approaching behind me.

I quickly turn my head to check my surroundings. My heart drops into my stomach when I lay eyes on Tristen and his goons heading in my direction.

Without hesitation, I do the only thing I know how to do. Run. My legs carried me down the staircase, being careful not to trip and fall.

I run down the main hallway, attempting to find Ms. Stevens, or one of the guards that stands watch overnight. To my horror, it seems like no one is here. I can't locate a single adult, and I'm desperate.

I hear Tristen calling out behind me. His voice is laced with sinister intent and hate. His goons add to my anxiety as they encourage him and throw out their own offensive slurs.

I see an unfamiliar door and try to open it. The knob twists and grants my entrance. I quietly close the door and frantically look around the room.

It looks like an old office judging by the old dusty wooden oak desk that's sitting in front of the window that's covered in aluminum foil.

Tall book shelves decorated the walls and were full of books in different conditions.

In the left corner of the room, there is a closet big enough to conceal my presence and to provide me shelter.

I quietly tip toe over and slide in. I slowly close the closet door, hoping it won't creak and give away my location.

Once the door is closed, I slide down into the closet corner, put my knees to my chest, and wait for the danger to pass.

I hear them walk back and forth. Each one opened and closed every door in the hall until they stopped in front of the one I entered.

My breath hitches in my throat, and I cover my mouth to ensure no sound will escape.The sound of calculating footsteps is torture.

I hear the doorknob twist, and the creaky noise from the door being opened has my anxiety through the roof right now. My heart is pounding inside my chest. The boys rummage through the office looking for me.

"Come out, come out, wherever you areeee. We won't stop until we find you little birdie." I sit there, frozen, in an attempt to blend into the shadows.

The false tranquility in his voice is almost convincing, but I know Tristen. As soon as I reveal myself, I'll be digging my own grave.

"You keep this up, your punishment will be worse than what I already have planned. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

A sudden silence engulfs the room. The tension in the atmosphere is thick. Before warning, the closet doors swing open, exposing me to a seriously angry Tristen.

I know what's to come, and it won't be pretty. He reaches out to grab my arm and pulls me out of the closet as I kick and scream in protest.

"Look who's trying to hide in the shadows, Shadow!" Tristen's raspy voice and added sarcasm to my name makes me want to puke.

He hurls me to the ground. I fall face first, emitting a loud groan as the sharp, throbbing pain takes place on my forehead.

One of Tristen's goons grabs a fist full of my long black hair and yanks me up from the ground.

The tension on my scalp is unbearable, but I don't dare give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Through gritted teeth, I keep my screams at bay. Tristen takes long strides towards me until we are face to face, and the corner of his lips begins to curl.

He disgusts me. My, used to be friend, has been my worst tormentor here at Lexington Orphange. After finding out he no longer has his parents, I naively thought we would bond and become close.

I was so wrong, and I hate myself for it. Rage bubbles in the pit of my stomach at the thought, so I decide to give him a little piece of my mind. I spit on him.

It lands right on his upper cheek, close to his eye. He uses his hand to wipe it off. When he looks at me, his face is as red as a tomato, his eyebrows are furrowed, and his grin is suddenly replaced by a scowl.

He and his goons share a bewildered expression, but it isn't for long. A hard sting across my cheek has me cradling the side of my face. I fall to the hard wooden floor due to the impact of the slap.

I look to face Tristen again with my lips slightly parted. Confusion and anger battle it out in the pit of my stomach. His heavy foot lands a kick straight to my face.

A metallic taste fills my mouth. I bring my hand to my face again and touch my lip. It's busted and bleeding from the brutal kick to the face.

Before I could protest or even defend myself, I get another kick to the face that sends me flying backwards. I fall onto my back, and a groan escapes my lips as I wither in pain.

"You're fucking pathetic. Even your name is pathetic. You freak!" Venom drips from every word that he spits at me. My eyes are brimming with unshed tears, but I refuse to let them fall.

I sit up on my elbows and spit out the blood that wants to ease down my throat. Tristen grabs me by the neck in a firm grip and slowly picks me up.

He is holding me in the air, just a few inches from the ground, as my small frame is dangling in the air at his mercy.

My airway is slowly closing as I look into his cold and evil eyes. Im gasping for air and hitting at his arm to release me. My struggle is futile as I allow myself to be swallowed by the darkness.

Im left there, in pain and alone with no strength to call for help. Not like anyone would help me anyway. Once I'm up, I promise I'm going to escape this hell hole.

Even if it kills me.