Chapter Four

Skyler’s POV 

"Is there any chance you could call and ask the school to let me leave early? I'm feeling really overwhelmed and I just need to come home before I lose it. It's gotten to the point where some people in the pack are saying that someone like me, who is a half-breed, shouldn't even be a part of this pack anymore. It's really hurtful, and I think it's best if I just leave." I express my frustration and distress, hoping for some understanding and support.

"Sorry, but you have to tough it out for the rest of the day; it's almost over. Remember, you're stronger than those people. Don't allow them to come out on top," Mom insists.

As soon as my mom ends the call, I quickly spin around, only to collide head-on with the notorious "Bitch Squad." Talk about perfect timing, right?

“Poor baby had to call her mommy boo hoo.” Samantha laughs in glee as they walk away. 

As I step into the creative writing class, a surge of excitement rushes through me because writing has always been my passion. Anticipating the usual response from my classmates, I choose a seat in the back, knowing they will inevitably scatter away. 

As I hold my reliable notebook, its worn pages and tattered edges serving as a testament to the countless ideas and stories it has witnessed, I am filled with a sense of anticipation that electrifies my very being. The weight of the notebook in my hands feels comforting, like a familiar friend ready to embark on yet another journey of imagination and expression.

With each turn of its pages, I am transported to a world where the boundaries of reality blur and the possibilities are endless. It is within these pages that my thoughts and dreams find solace, where the ink flows freely and my mind is unshackled from the constraints of the mundane.

As I await Professor Steven's next prompt, my heart races with excitement, for I know that his words will ignite a spark within me, setting ablaze the dormant embers of creativity that lie within. His prompts are like keys that unlock the doors to uncharted territories, inviting me to explore the vast landscapes of my imagination.

In this realm of creativity and narrative, I am free to weave tales of heroes and villains, of love and loss, of triumph and despair. It is a place where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, where the mundane is transformed into something magical. With each stroke of my pen, I breathe life into characters who dance across the pages, their stories unfolding before my very eyes.

The anticipation builds, like a crescendo in a symphony, as I eagerly await the moment when Professor Steven's prompt will be revealed. Will it be a challenge to create a fantastical world filled with mythical creatures? Or perhaps a prompt that delves into the depths of human emotions, exploring the complexities of the human psyche? Whatever it may be, I am ready to embrace it wholeheartedly, to immerse myself in the depths of my imagination and let the words flow freely.

As I open my notebook to a blank page, the possibilities stretch out before me like an uncharted map, waiting to be explored. The pen hovers above the paper, ready to etch the first strokes of a new adventure. With each word that spills onto the page, I feel a sense of liberation, as if the shackles of reality have been cast aside, allowing me to traverse the realms of creativity and narrative with boundless freedom.

In this realm, time loses its grip, and hours melt away like droplets of water in a vast ocean. The outside world fades into the background as I become engrossed in the stories that unfold before me. The notebook becomes a portal, transporting me to a place that I am wild and free.

“Good afternoon, class today is the first day of your story writing and I want you guys to write about how you see yourself in your future pack. I will ask for this assignment back at the end of next week.” Professor Steven says as he sits in his chair. 

As I sit down to pen down my thoughts on how I envision myself in my future pack, I find myself completely engrossed in the process, losing track of time. The words flow effortlessly from my mind to the paper as I delve into the depths of my aspirations and dreams. The mere act of writing allows me to explore the possibilities that lie ahead. 

Painting a vivid picture of the person I aspire to become. In this moment, the world around me fades away; I am consumed by the sheer joy of self-reflection and envisioning a future filled with endless opportunities. 

As soon as the bell rings, I swiftly start collecting my belongings and patiently wait for everyone else to leave the classroom. I don't feel the need to rush to my next class because I have a study hall right after, which means I have the freedom to do whatever I please.

Exiting the classroom, I feel a sudden force from behind that lifts me off my feet and slams me inside a locker. I'm left gasping for air, unable to comprehend what just happened. My anger boils over as I scream at the top of my lungs, “Let me the fuck out of here! It’s not funny you guys.” The frustration and fear of being trapped in such a small space overwhelms me, and I can feel my heart racing with adrenaline.

Laughter fills the air as they stroll away, leaving me behind just as the final bell chimes, signaling the start of the last class of the day. Frustration builds within me, and I resort to banging and kicking my locker, desperately hoping for someone, anyone, to hear my pleas. Just as despair settles in, a glimmer of hope emerges as Gamma Will comes to my rescue. With a gentle hand, he opens the locker and pulls me out, offering a reassuring smile before closing it shut once again.

"Skyler, I'm really curious to know what led to you being trapped in that locker," Will inquired with genuine interest.

"Well, isn't it just heartwarming to witness the genuine concern and affection my dear classmates and pack have for me?" I remark with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

"Thank you for your assistance, however, I must depart at this moment," I reply with a slight tinge of exasperation in my voice as I hurriedly make my way out.

Pulling my phone out, I shoot a text to dad, "Will just rescued me from a locker. I am on the way." While heading to my locker and putting away the books. I don't need right now, and make sure that I grab all of my spare clothes that I have to wash because of the “Bitch Squad”. 

It's a relief that at this particular time of day, I rarely come across anyone else on my way home. I take this opportunity to savor the invigorating breeze. And observe the enchanting wildlife freely wandering amidst the trees. As I approach our house, a contented smile spreads across my face. I step inside and promptly hang my bookbag on its designated hook before slipping off my shoes. Eager to prepare for my training session, I make my way to my room, ready to change into my workout attire.

After making the necessary adjustments, I make my way downstairs and then proceed to the kitchen to fetch myself a refreshing beverage and a blood bag. While I wait for the blood bag to warm up, I call out to my dad, "Hey, dad, have you arrived home yet?" Unfortunately, there is no response from him, so I pivot around and seize my blood as soon as the microwave signals its completion. Without wasting any time, I indulge in a satisfying drink.

As soon as I finish drinking the last drop of my beverage, the front door makes a creaking sound and my father enters the room. He greets me by calling out my name, "Skyler, have you returned?"

"Before we leave, I'm taking a moment to satisfy my hunger with a blood bag in the kitchen," I say with a contented sigh as my cravings begin to fade.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'm going to go upstairs and quickly change so that we can proceed with our training session before dinner." Dad responds hastily, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Absolutely!" I exclaim, my excitement palpable as I anticipate the opportunity to spend quality time with my dad. 

Not only that, but I know that training sessions with him always push me to my limits, helping me become even stronger and more resilient. The prospect of this one-on-one time with my father fills me with a sense of anticipation and eagerness. Knowing that it will strengthen our bond and enhance my physical abilities. Plus, who knows when I will have to protect myself.