Back for Revenge

O N E - I'm breaking the fourth wall √

My name is Chrissy, and my nickname is Chris.

And I'm abused by my pack.

This is my story.

I had a family.

I had a sister, Clarissa Anderson.

A brother, Jace Anderson.

A father, Matt Anderson and a mother, Chrissy Anderson.

And yes,you read that correctly; I am named after my mom.

And that's plenty of characters introduced within the first 5 minutes of this book.

My mom died 17 years ago,because of my birth.

So my father and my sister blames me.

My brother, he knows it isn't my fault...

Or maybe it was.

But it's pretty delusional for them to name me her, and expecting me to look and act like her, my mother. Isn't it?

5:00AM, 15 APRIL 2010

Another day of torture.

Another day of fucking abuse.

Another day of school.

I got up and glanced at my clock, 5am.

I lifted my lazy ass up from the bed, yawning and licking my dry lips. I quickly retrieved the hair bands I placed on my small wooden table beside the bed and tied my hair into a ponytail. Strands of blond hair are loosely tucked behind my ears as I walked to the bathroom.

I quickly on the tap, and washed my face with clear water. I had to finish making the breakfast before everyone woke up --

Before anyone saw me I have to leave, they'll kill me if they found out I was using their precious bathroom. I don't quite understand their hatred for me, quite frankly no one except my family members know about the accusation thrown toward me about my position in my mother's tragic death.

I walked downstairs to the kitchen and made breakfast for the whole pack of werewolfs who lives in the pack house,which contained about, 30 members.

Most lived outside, those who lived within the pack house are the higher ranks families and the high schoolers. I, on the other hand, didn't have a house. In order to live in the pack house I was ordered to be the maid; in other words, a slave. A form of payment to the pack - Nevertheless, my 'crime' didn't matter. As long as the Alpha lives I'm still the same old, slavery Chrissy.

I dragged my foot into the kitchen, squeezed jugs of orange juice and flipped some pancakes. My hands were stained orange and sore from squeezing the oranges; the tables were littered with plates and plates of pancakes and dozen bowls of fruits all cut up freshly.

Seriously, I don't get it why the Alpha insisted on having 'fresh' orange juice.

I was on my 4th and last jug of orange juice before someone snorted behind me.

"Hey you!" Someone yelled.

Another voice joined in.

"Yeah you! Why are you standing there!Go back to your room, you slut!"

Oh, did I forget to mention I'm sleeping in the attic?

"I-i Im so sorry im g-going b-back to my a-attic....'I stuttered, gulping, as I clumsily try to push the jug away from me, wiping my sticky hands on my t shirt.

"Bitch."

I looked up, immediately averting my eyes when I realised it was the Beta's Wife. Damn it, they always find me.

The pack's ... girls were all sitting on the couch flirting with the men, some sitting on their laps, trailing fingers down their chest and whispering into their ears. (Since when did they get here? Why didn't I hear them coming down? Normally their laughters are louder than wild hyenas) The moment they noticed me, they gave me a look of distaste, and they all glared at me, and in unison:

"Go back to your room, bitch!"

Westwood Highschool choir, 1st place from the bottom.

Stefanie, was wearing a short dress that hugged her hourglass figure, pursed her lips and stood up from the couch, sashaying towards me.

Stefanie is the all around, merry go round queen bee, a girl who is willing to do anything to climb up ranks. And by anything, I meant anything. We all know in these werewolf stories, they would screw men to get up ranks. But Stefanie here, has been accused of murder - Sorry, involuntary manslaughter.

Thought she is still, innocent till convicted. So for now she's not a murderer.

I gulped, taking a minor step back, but she raised an eyebrows and I froze in the spot, when she got within an arm's length, she sneered, raised her right hand and slapped me across the face and laughed. Pain exploded my my vision turned white, I swallowed blood.

I clenched my fists, drawing blood with my nails as the pain throbbed against my cheeks.

She spat in my face, laughing, "Trash!" Sniggering at my misery, she sashayed over to her girl group and giggled as they threw glances at me. Her saliva trickled down my nose and I swallowed, something is thick in my mouth. I can't breathe properly as a suffocating feeling took over at my chest.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes, and suddenly the giggling, and the taunting everyone from the pack since I was a young child was overwhelming.

My period is definitely coming.

I didn't do anything to them, I didn't kill their family members or ruined their lives. (Stefanie probably did.)

In fact, they ruined mine every single day. I didn't do anything --

I ran back to my attic with tears falling down my face. Angry, hot tears running down my cheeks. I clenched my fists, punching hard onto the wall. A sharp pain hits me in my shoulders.

Tomorrow is my 18th birthday.
Tomorrow -- I will finally be able to escape.

Hey, what's an abusive werewolf story without cliche runaways?

AUTHOR NOTE:

Hello readers. This book will be updated very slowly; as I wrote the book when I was 9 years old and somehow ended up with 50K views. erhh?

The plot is completely... messed up beyond recognition. I cringed hard when I read my old writing style and my young self not daring the write the word sex.

Therefore, I will try to write a new, more defined plot. It should stay the same, with Chrissy having her old past as her biggest enemy. It should work, somehow.

Oh! And if you're still reading this, here's some very important warnings:

-Death of character(s)

-Violence/Gore

-Periods

-Sarcastic, horrible jokes and humour

-Romance

-Sexual scenes

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