Shifting Bones *on hiatus*

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Chapter 2

The next memory I made was when the piercing sunlight that apparently wanted to roast my eyeballs forced me awake. I blinked frantically, the sun rays feeling strong enough to pierce my skull and fry my brain aswell. I groaned loudly before pulling the covers over my head as if a shield. As my fingers ran along the cream bedding, I remembered that I hadnt actually fallen asleep in bed. Or had I? I tried to actually remember going to bed but my thoughts were all in a muddle, like a dream I couldn't quite remember. All that I could recall was darkness mostly. And pain. Jesus, a hell of alot of pain.

I pulled the covers up further over my head and curled my knees up so they pressed against my chest. My hand slowly slid down my right leg before stopping at the bottom of my calf. I was half scared that touching it will bring forth the pain again, the pain that still clung to me even though it wasn't real anymore. As I slid down softly I felt nothing really, no wound, no scab. The skin felt softer slightly though, as if ice had formed a pattern on my skin.

I immediately bolted upright and threw the covers from my head, sweeping my leg over the top of the remaining covers as I tried to get a proper look at it. It looked just like it always had, but if I looked closer, a half crescent, slightly purple scar sat just above my ankle. The same fear that I remembered wracking my body last night hit me again tenfold as I sat frozen to the bed. It hadn't been a dream...

Id been bitten! Id actually been bitten! Shit! I wasnt dead! The latter gave me little comfort. I knew aswell as everyone else did that if you get bit and you don't die, most of the time you wish you had. Shit! Half crescent meant it was a fucking were that had bitten me. Fuck!

My fingers rubbed the mark even harder as if my fingertips were erasers able to just rub it out. Part of me prayed that this was some stupid attempt at a joke, Jasper trying to prank me yet again. But the vivid memory of the pain I felt coursing through my body told me that I'd be even more stupid to believe that.

I dropped my leg to the floor slowly as my mind raced, the fear threatening to overwhelm me. I felt as my heart followed suit and panicked, hammering again in my chest as I struggled to catch my breath. I had been bitten. How on earth had that even happened? I tried to remember exactly what occurred the night before but it was all still a blur. I looked hastily around my room, at the deep mahogany dresser opposite my bed and the mirror that sat atop it. It reflected a version of me that wasn't really true now, my blonde hair swept messily across my head, my green eyes twinkling sleepily, eye bags heavy. I still looked normal, tired but normal. My reflection was a lie.

I turned away from my reflection and angrily lay back down on the bed, throwing my covers furiously around me, refusing to deal with this whole fucked up situation. I didn't want to get up, face my parents. I knew the steps that likely followed this moment. And I wasn't ready for it. Wasn't ready for any of it. I remembered back when I was younger, when the world was normal and not so broken. Before monsters walked in the daylight. Before humans were knocked off the top of the food chain and world wide curfews weren't compulsory if you wanted to survive.

Just over 5 years ago when I had not long turned 15, the world exploded. Not literally, there wasn't an atomic bomb or anything, but figuratively. Everything we had ever known had been built on lies and those lies had apparently been festering for decades. Fairytales, stories about things that went bump in the night, weren't just stories anymore. They were very, very real and they were alive and living in our towns, going to our schools. And they were tired of pretending they didnt exist. It was like one day everything was completely normal and the next it just wasn't.

The violence started very soon after. The army came and locked down towns. We weren't allowed out after dark and never allowed out alone even in the day. Schools closed the second week after it all started, kids had started to go missing and nobody felt safe anymore. I remember the government sending out a message that we had to stay strong and stay in our homes. That these "terrorists" needed to learn we were the ones in control. That was just another lie.

I shook my head free from the memories, they would do me no good right now. I wasnt that 15 year old girl anymore. I was a 20 year old woman. Or atleast I had been. A tear rolled down my cheek and I wiped furiously away as the fear inside me turned to anger. Anger at the fact I had found myself in this position. Anger because I was this weak, that instead of being strong enough to face it, I just curled up under the covers like a 5 year old. That was when the next realisation hit me. This bed I was lying in had covers that were cream. I didn't have any covers that were cream. And since when did I have a mahogany dresser near the end of my bed? I scrambled out from under the covers once more, angrily hitting at them as they refused to release me, becoming like an angry octopus intent on keeping me wrapped up. Trapped.

"Fuck," I shouted out loud, rubbing my hands through the matt of hair that were my curls as I paced at the side of the bed. There had been men last night. But I couldn't remember how many. And a car. A red car. I thought both must have been weres, their amber eyes burning into my memories like coals on a fire. I walked over to the window hoping to find out where I was at least. As I pulled the blinds up, I almost growled in frustration when they clattered together, a sound so loud it startled me a little. I gazed out the window and saw fields around that looked a little burnt out from the sun. The paths seemed to be dirt or maybe gravel, it was hard to see from where I was. The red car from my memory lay innocently on the ground below, completely unaware of how complicit it had been in my kidnapping. That's when the first idea hit me, it could also be complicit in my escape. The ground below didn't look that far, especially if I slid out first and dangled. There didn't seem to be any movement outside as far as I could see so hopefully I could get to the truck and start it before anyone even decided to check on me. My hands found the latch with ease as my gaze stayed fixated on the car. Well it was more like a truck, the back having an open boot like I'd seen in those American movies. It looked like it could take you anywhere, it's massive four black tyres built to withstand any terrain. Just what I needed.

I jostled at the latch impatiently, my anger getting the best of me when it refused to budge. I twisted harder and focused my attention on it, realising then that it was pointless, it has been welded shut. I should of known my escape would never have been that easy. Nothing in my life was easy. I angrily released my grip on the latch and instead focused my attention back to the room, trying my hardest to find something to smash the window. It wasn't the best plan, the noise could alert my captors to my plan long before I wished them to but if I was quick I'd hopefully make it to the truck before they caught me again. I neglected to focus on the fact I'd need time to hotwire the car, something I wasn't insanely good at.

Looking around the room though I quickly realised that there wasn't alot of things I could use. The dresser, on closer inspection, had no stool and was attached to the wall. The bed and covers were unhelpful and the room was bare apart from those things. Clever really. It had enough to feel homely but not anything that could be used as a weapon when you realised this was anything but a home. You're right in the heart of the wolf's den and most likely about to be eaten alive.

I lowered myself on to the bed and tried to think straight for a moment. I was still in the pajamas I had put on the night before which was a small saving grace knowing noone had undressed me whilst I was out. It also meant I had nothing with me to aid my escape either. No go bag which was the first rule in my household if we were going outside. In mine was my phone and charger, my hunting knife, notebook and pencil, change of clothes and basic first aid kit. My hunting knife was a thing of beauty, with its long handle made from purple heart and the blade that I sharpened every morning myself. It could slice through butter like a hot iron. Flesh aswell I'd bet had I ever been given the chance to use it. But none of that would help me now.

I briefly considered trying to just outrun them. It wasnt like weres had super speed in human form like vamps did. I could outrun them if they weren't expecting it surely? But then I'd have to keep running and in reality I had no idea where I was. Or even where I could run to. If I ran home they might shoot me on the spot if one of the new kids didn't recognize me, instead just seeing a monster. I threw myself back dramatically on the bed as I tried hard to stop the tears from falling. I didn't want to be here but at the same time I also had nowhere to go. I doubted the weres would want me here either once they found out who my family was.

I turned into myself again, pulling up my legs to my chest like a baby in the womb. I had no idea what my next move was going to be so in true Hayley style I curled up and cried into my knees. Becoming weak. I should just shoot myself and get it over with. But there was nothing in the room that I could of used for that either.

A low commotion outside my door caused my sobs to cease for the moment and I slowly stretched out my legs on the bed. I scanned the room again to find a place to hide but decided instead to stand by the door, fists raised and in a fighting stance. I could land a good left hook if needed and I guessed it most certainly would be needed. So I stood between the bed and the window and held my breath as I watched the door handle slowly lower, the door opening with a nudge. I told myself that I could do this. I wouldnt go down without a fight.

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