Rogue Undecided

.:~Chapter one~:.

Don't you just hate it when you're in a really bad mood, and all you want to do is punch someone, and no matter where you go there seems to be someone or something so overly perky it makes you want to strangle the closest person to you?

I know I do.

So as I'm waiting in line at the local grocery, already in a bad mood, my day just got worse as the only available cash register malfuncioned, and the shop workers couldn't figure out how to fix it. So to save you the long sob story about the horible day I was having, I'll give you the need-to-know information about my day.

One: After my little, uh, fun parade I had last night, almost every single werewolf in a hundred mile radius was sending me some kind of death threat. I've gotten glares, words, letters, emails, etcetera, etcetera.

I'm not so sure why everyone is making a big deal out of it. So maybe I put a bomb in the beta's house, and the beta may or may not have been in the house when the bomb when off. And the beta may or may not be in the hospital, suffering severe bone breakage and he might be in a minor coma.

Woah, notice how I said minor in that sentence? Yeah, that little word means in a very subtle way to calm-the-freak-down.

Anyway I was giving you the need-to-know, and I would really appreciate it if we went back to that topic.

Two: when I went to cook myself breakfast this morning, my stove decided to through a total hissy fit and stopped working.

Now stop. I want you to reread that sentence really slowly. Take note of the fact that I said the words 'STOPPED WORKING'. So when your oven stops working, guess what happens?

YOU DON'T GET ANY FOOD!!!

Yeah, you read that right. No food. So I've been threatened, I'm hungry, and I'm stuck in line between an overweight sweaty guy who obviously never heard of the great new invention called a shower, and a serious Britney Spears want-to-be.

And that, ladies and gentlemen gives you number three on my list.

Miss perky Maguey behind me, with her earbuds in and her music turned up to full blast was enough to give me a headache.

But then she did the one thing that made the situations ten times worse than it already was.

She opened her mouth, and started belting the words in a voice that resembled a suffering seal.

"Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to know, that something wasn't right here?" she sang at the top of her lungs. I felt my shaking hands ball into fists as I listened to her ear bleeding shrieks.

Three.

Two.

One.

I whipped around to face the blonde haired blue eyed teenage girl that was singing her heart out in the middle of a grocery store. I felt my breathing pick up, and my claws start to come out. No doubt my cheeks were red and I had a murderous look on my face, but at this point I couldn't control myself. I've run out of patients.

"Hey!" I screamed at the girl. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Why don't you screech louder! I don't think they heard you in Russia!"

She pulled out her earbuds and gave me the look. The one that I get on a daily basis.

The look that screamed: Who-do-you-think-you-are!?

"I wasn't screeching, I was singing!" she replied in a voice so high I could of swore my eardrum popped.

"Singing is something talented people do, and honey you're not one of them!" I sneered back at her.

"I am talented!'' she yelled.

I patted her shoulder and gave her a look of fake sympathy.

"Denial isn't good for the soul" I said in the therapist voice I mastered a long time ago.

"I'm not in den-" her chipmunk wail was interrupted by the shop manager walking over and gently grabbed her arm.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave this store" he said to her in a stern voice.

"But I didn't do anything wrong!" she yelled.

"Ma'am don't make a scene, please just exit the store" she huffed out in anger, gave me one more glare, than stormed out of the store.

I started laughing at the situation. It was too funny.

My laughter quickly stopped when I felt a cold hand clasp around my upper arm.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave too"

You have got to be kidding me.

************************************

I slammed my front door shut, and threw my keys onto the table. I power walked over to the worn in couch and plopped down, frustrated.

After I was asked to leave the store, I went to go looking around for any restaurant that would serve me food cheap. Of course it took me a good forty-five minutes and a whole other town to find the small cafe that actually gave me my food with a smile, not a glare like people in this town do.

You see, I live in a town full of werewolves. I know, kinda dumb considering I'm a rogue, but it actually had a few shocking advantages.

Like I can go running in the endless woods that surrounded the town, and everyone in this town shared the same secret I did, so I didn't have to be as careful. This town has a few humans, but we don't really see them a lot. They are mostly business people, something I stay away from.

I jumped when the phone rang, but sighed in defeat when I saw it was the house company again, calling about my late payment. I'm already three payments behind, so I know it would take a miracle to get all the bills paid.

I ran my hand through my hair, a habit I've done ever since I was little. I always do that when I'm thinking, stressing, or trying to control my anger.

At the moment I was stressed. Ever since my parents were killed I've been on my own, trying to figure out how to pay the bills, buy food, and stay alive all at the same time with no help what so ever. I'm mean I'm seventeen years old, and I'm already worried about how I'm going to pay my house payment.

The phone continued to ring, but it was only background noise now. Because I, Farrah Elizabeth Hill did the one thing I hadn't done in a very long time.

I cried.

************************************

Someone was pounding on the door.

I shot up from my position on the couch, realizing I cried myself asleep god only knows how long ago. I quickly dried all my tears with my shirt sleeve before getting up and answering the door.

And let me tell you, I wasn't expecting the people at the other end of the door.

Not at all.

"May I help you?" I asked the police officers and business lady standing on my porch.

"Yes, are you Farrah Hill?" asked the business lady.

"Yes" I answered cautiously.

The police officers immediately had me by the arms, and was pulling me toward their cop cars.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"You have to come down to the station with us" they officers looked grim. ''We have some questions for you"

"About what?" I asked.

They both stopped simultaneously and glared at me when I caught their eye.

"Your parents"