"we all want to run away from the things we can't hide from."

Scarlett's POV

Tripping over the twigs in the forest, I still ran into the dark, crepuscular wilderness, wanting forlornly to escape from the nightmarish creatures that were chasing me. From them, most significantly. It was all because of them, that it appeared in my head, unable to stop tormenting my thoughts. Something dismal, obstreperous, that could barely be restrained, was the bane of my thoughts, and it was a curse that could never be taken away.

Dirt and sweat formed a blanket on my skin, as well as the many scratches and bruises from past memories that I never wanted to remember ever again. If I'd gone through that again, I would never survive.

There was almost nothing I could see in the pitch black darkness that was being a hindrance to my sight. The smell of fresh rain filled my nostrils, as I swiftly ran through the forest. Not once had I dared to look back, afraid of what would be behind me.

They wouldn't catch me. This time, I wouldn't let them. They couldn't catch me. This was my only chance to finally escape from their tight clutches that were constantly pulling me under their control, like chains tying me down to a helpless rock.

I was aware that the territory belonged to someone else, but I still stumbled into the muddy area, fresh from the recent rain. I had no choice but to run. I didn't care whether I would be murdered as I sped through the wild.

It's just better to be killed by someone who you don't even know rather than the people that were supposed to love you.

The branches almost seemed to be reaching out to me, as if they were bony hands that were competing to catch me. In the dimly lit forest, I could barely see anything, even with my werewolf sight. The forest was eerily silent, and the only thing I could hear were the raspy breaths coming out of my mouth.

The specific scent I had grown to hate filled the air, and I knew that they were close. Close enough to catch up with me. The mere thought sent a shiver of fear down my spine, a feeling of sheer panic. I had to move faster.

Tripping blindly across the ground, I moved as fast as I could. No. I'm not going to let that happen. The memories of the scars, the bruises were just too much to take, overwhelming me. For a second, I stumbled over my clumsy footsteps, before regaining my balance once again.

With a final rush of energy pulsing through my veins, I sped forward, only to be pushed back by what seemed like an invisible force. Turns out, it was only my hesitation that stopped me, that prevented me from going forward.

Did I really want to do this? Did I really want to sign a death warrant?

Gulping in fear, I sped forward. This was my chance to escape from them; this was my chance for freedom, though it may not last long.

'You always have a choice', my parents had told me. I was only a little girl back then, gullible and vulnerable. Never had I expected for the world to be such a cruel place.

Taking a deep breath, I ran through the border, knowing they wouldn't dare go through another's territory. It would start a war that wasn't even supposed to happen.

The voice in my head spoke up, ever so softly, whispering words that I never wanted to hear again. It would always torment me, no matter where I go, whether I was with the pack or not.

I ran forward, not even daring to take a glance at what was behind me. Exhausted, I laid down, a sense of relief flooding my senses, though I knew that I had a low chance of surviving. Never have I ever dreamed about the day I would escape. Every day, my hope was gradually being diminished, with every word they spat, with every hit they delivered, with the voices in my head creating a cacophony of noise that affected me in a way that I never expected.

Raising a hand to my locket, I opened it, looking at the picture of my family. Nostalgia filled my senses, and I wished things could go back to how they were before. Nothing was out of place back then. It was always peaceful, normal, until they started it. The constant torture never ended. But now, I guess it's time to say goodbye.

Though I never saw my parents for one last time, I can only hope that I don't disappoint them anymore, as the disgrace of the family.

The moonlight was almost directly shining in my eyes, but the sky was certainly a sight for sore eyes. I looked up, just staring at the sky. Knowing I wouldn't have the chance to escape, I wasn't even going to try.

I had nothing left to live for, nothing left to lose. I laid on the forest floor, not caring that it was covered in mud and leaves, dirtying my clothes. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered to me anymore.

The rustling of leaves, almost in a near distance alerted my senses. But of course, they were just my instincts. I didn't want to live; so I ignored it. A growl came from my left, and I saw a group of wolves.

As the wolves pounced on me and tore my flesh, I couldn't even feel the pain, the slashes they made. I had lost the will to fight back. Their fervent attempts to kill me lulled to a stop as they stepped back, flashing their sharp canines at me. They stared at me, as if they were planning my inevitable death.

"Do it,"I whispered hoarsely, I dare you to kill me."

Their heads tilted to the side, as if they were confused.

Black dots were already dancing around in my vision, the world was in a dizzying turn. Everything suddenly blurred, as a flood of relief passing through me. From exhaustion, the wounds, I don't know. But what I do know is that I don't care what they do to me.

They could torture me, they could do something worse than that but I already felt the worst pain when everyone I ever trusted, or ever loved turned their backs on me and made my nightmares into their dreams. They had already broken my spirit a long time ago. I finally gave up.

And with that, I fell into the dark, never ending depths of darkness that I called home, because I was so used to it.

**********

Laughter filled the hallway, as people stood aside, watching me with their calculating gaze. Punches and kicks were thrown my way, and I curled into a fetal position, trying to shield myself from their physical attacks. I would fight back if I could, but I was far too weak to move, my energy drained.

Slut, whore, mistake, fat, ugly, worthless, pathetic.

Those oppressive words were used everyday. Gossiped, muttered, whispered in the hallways of this very school. They never failed to make me feel like I was never meant to live.

I guess most of the time, I tried not to listen to them but when you get called names that often you start to wonder what they call you is true. I was questioning my own conscience; driven to the point of insanity. Voices in my head, whispering to each other, had appeared. At that point, I was sure that I was insane.

By the time they were done, I was slumped down against the lockers with several injuries. Again and again. I couldn't even muster enough of my strength to get up.

The only thing on my mind was the looks of disgust, that were etched into my mind. The people walking by, they looked at me with sympathy, but none of them had the heart to help someone.

Once I got up, I limped to the nearest bathroom. I looked into a mirror and saw the familiar emotion whirl around in my dull eyes. Self-hatred. A feeling I'm too familiar with.

Upon the sound of footsteps getting louder, I limped as quickly as I could to a bathroom stall and locked it, listening intently.

It was a group of girls. They started giggling, from what I could hear.

"That girl in the hallway? She deserves to be bullied. That bitch."

"Yeah, she's a fucking slut as well. Heard she slept with the whole football team."

"I don't even know what she's waiting for, she can just go ahead and kill herself. It's not like anyone would care."

The insults just kept coming, and I covered my ears. They wouldn't stop. There were voices in my head that just kept saying insults. They were shouting, screaming, and my head began to pound painfully.

Tears dripped down my cheek, and I tried to hold in my sobs. I just couldn't take it anymore. Letting out a strangled sob, I sank down on the ground, helpless, pulling out my savior to my pain.

She paints a pretty picture,
But this story has a twist.
Her paintbrush is a razor,
And the canvas is her wrist.

**********

My eyes opened to their own accord, and the first thing I saw was the dark atmosphere, from which I could only make out a few silhouettes. A part of me wondered why did they waste their time saving a worthless life.

I looked at my wounds, and they were all bandaged up and healed. Confusion only clouded my thoughts even more.

The creaking of the door opening made me snap my head towards the door to see who had come in. Whoever it was, came towards me, and placed a tray in front of me. An odd smell wafted through the air and into my nostrils, making my nose twitch irritatingly.

The person who came in locked the door and went out. When he did, I observed my surroundings. I seemed to be in some sort of jail cell. The silence was almost deafening, and the only thing I could hear was the dripping water from a leak in the ceiling.

I laid on the cold, hard stone floor for the entire period since I've been here. Letting my thoughts consume me, with their derogatory nature.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes, which turned into hours. The hours passed by, turning to days.

I hadn't kept track of anything since I arose in the cell. I could barely see anything, which was a disadvantage on its own.

Today wasn't an exception. The same routine repeated everyday.

Of course, I wouldn't even bother to try and escape. They could kill me with a snap of their fingers; what was the point?

Today, however, the towering figure of a man stood over me. His stare seemed to bore a hole in the side of my head. Uncomfortable under his stare, I said, with a raspy voice,"Leave me alone."

I didn't dare look up and make eye contact. However, I could hear him step closer and kneel down in front of me. I turned my head away more, my heartbeat increasing by the minute, afraid of what was to come. He placed a hand on my arm, making me flinch away, and I tried to back away, feeling the cold, stone wall send a tingle up my arm.

"Calm down, I won't hurt you."

Silence filled the tensed atmosphere. I didn't want to answer, not knowing what to say.

He continued on,"I just want to make sure your wound is healing properly."

His tone was laced with persistence, which I wanted to question. It didn't add up. Why in the world would he even help a rogue? A werewolf, gone crazy, gone insane, off his rocker, as they would say. No one that was seemingly sane would ever leave their pack, right?

"You have to eat," he added.

"Why do you care?"I replied quietly.

He said,"The Alpha had strict orders to help you and make sure you're alive. I'm just doing my job. Now can you let me finish my job before the Alpha kills me? I have a mate and a brother to take care of. I don't want to die-"

"Okay, fine. It's not like I asked for your life story anyway. " My voice was only a raspy whisper from dehydration. He helped me sit up. Every time he raised his hand, I just couldn't help but flinch. Slowly, I ate under his gaze, which never wavered. After that, he checked my bandages.

As he did, I heard the creaky sound of the old, wooden door opening, before a sweet scent infiltrated my nose. My wolf was jumping around excitedly inside my head, shouting something I couldn't quite hear, though it wouldn't be good at all. It wouldn't benefit me.

The silhouette of a man appeared in my line of vision, an aura of power and dominance filling the small space.

Something wasn't right. The wavering scent in the air was sweetly alluring, pulling me in.

The scent, making me feel delirious, grew stronger as someone emerged from the darkness, his aura unsettling.

It was him.

*********
note

i'm sorry if my writing is really shit because i'm not good at it. :/ but writing is the only way i can express myself, so here i am.

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