No one even noticed Tram or I as we walked through the hallway of our new school. None of them even flicked their sights towards us, but it still felt like everyone's eyes were glued to me, following me like a bad smell.

A space almost the size of my hand had barely wiggled its way between my brothers back and I, I was too afraid to be more than an arms distance from him in case I became lost in the sea of hormonal teenagers and needed a rope to pull me ashore.

But I obviously hadn't suffered enough because, deciding to add to my already growing anxiety attack, my stray left shoelace finds its way under my right foot, causing me to momentarily trip and fall into my brother. The only reaction I received were glances from people I nearly knocked over, but the room felt like it was spinning carelessly.

Tram must have noticed, because he grabs my upper arm, guiding us into the classroom we had been walking too. Only a few other teenagers sat in the room, carving their imagination out onto the desks they sat at and blowing bubbles of pink out of boredom. He pushed me down into a seat, taking the one across from me before grabbing my foot and yanking it up onto his lap, threading the frayed straps until they formed a bow together. He switched feet, this time grabbing my right ankle to fix the knot that was untying itself slowly, as I bit and sucked on my jumper string.

Tying knots and shoelaces was never something I could do. I have no idea why I couldn't just understand the simple steps and imprint them into my brain, but my ears wouldn't catch onto the information and gift them to my memories. I often feel like a child, and it's the only thing that I truly hate about myself. I can't go anywhere without my fucking colouring book, I can't sit still for more than five minutes, I can't just speak one sentence at a time like a normal person and It would be easier if I just got Velcro strapped shoes. I watch Tram be able to do all these things like just sit and listen to someone as their voice painted a story, count in his head or on his fingers without starting over thirty times and walk through a crowd of people his age laughing without his breath so much as hitching for even a second, and I wonder why I can't do that.

But, I still have my charming personality and outstanding behaviour, I guess.

"Hey, gorgeous-"

"Fuck off, before I burst your nut sack in my hand like a water balloon."

------

e t h a n

          "Oliver, if there was a new and dangerous supernatural creature in town, we'd know about it." I roll my eyes at his consistent nagging. He basically burst the back door of our house down to get to us. He didn't even say hi to Mum on his way in, she most likely doesn't even know he's here.

"I'm sorry, I thought this was a conversation between us shifting wolves, the ones with custom spidey senses." Oliver snapped right back at me, gesturing between himself and my older brother, Atticus, who was standing in front of me nodding like he was actually listening to any of this.

I have never been able to shift into an actual wolf despite it being in my DNA, and they made sure I knew that. Every chance they got someone would bring up the one-form thing no matter what the conversation was about. What no one but My mother, the towns supernatural doctor and I knew, was that it was my fathers' fault. He once threw me as if I was an empty paper bag into a brick wall like I meant nothing to him, and I was never able to heal from it, despite being able to grow back fingers and toes. He was once a kind man, once a good father. But he stole from a powerful witch, and she cursed him to become what the world sees 'his kind' as. A monster.

"You and Kayla did get attacked last night. You weren't even slightly showing signs of being werewolves when, as you say, an invisible creature tried to kill you." Atticus pointed out like I didn't have a bandage wrapped around my foot and crutches to prove it. For some reason, Kayla and I weren't healing as fast as we were supposed to. 

"You say it like invisibility isn't possible, the same way witches and werewolves aren't real," I reply with intense sarcasm, using the crutches to help lift myself off of the swinging chair placed in the backyard. The chair was supposed to be my quiet spot, but it was stupid of me to think I could have time to myself in this household.

"What's that smell?" Oliver questions, stepping towards me and proceeding to sniff me, much to my displeasure. I lift my right arm up, shoving him away from me with a cringe hanging from my face.

"If you do that again, I will punch your nose into your tiny brain. Crutches or not." I warm, creating distance between us when he continued to take in a big whiff of the air around us.

"You smell like death."

"I'm sorry I haven't showered today, but it's too hard to do with a fucking cement blanket wrapped around my leg." I sneered, instantly feeling the need to defend myself and my smell despite my height and build easily intimidating him. He's still a good throw and considering he's in a sort-of-relationship with my sister, I shouldn't be throwing punches at him.

"No, you dickhead. You don't smell bad exactly, you smell like deaths emotions. Sort of like a funeral." He revealed, digging himself a deeper hole in his attempt to escape the already sinking pit.

"Deaths emotions? That's possibly the dumbest thing you've said all day." I laugh to myself, continuing to swing away from dumb and dumber.

"It's the girl." A voice causes my head to lift up from watching the crutches carry me inside. Kayla was stood at the door frame, arm held against her stomach in a sling, her red hair tucked behind her ears and jacket hanging off of her injured shoulder. "The night you first met her, you said the hunters didn't have any weapons, and they weren't really chasing after you. We also saw her just before we were both attacked last night. It's her smell."

I laugh slightly at her statement. It did make sense in a way, but there was an equal amount of evidence saying otherwise. "Right, she's such a threat with her, what, 5'1 something height and care bear pyjamas."

"Hate to break it to you Ethan, but you look like more of a steroid-pumped jackass than a dangerous myth." She retorted, turning my cheeks read from both embarrassment and anger. Her small smirk showed me that she was pretty pleased with her comment, Oliver and Atticus' laughs only fueling her fire.

"The girl can't even sit still for five minutes. I doubt she even knows how to slap someone. The only thing she smelled of was bleach and dirt." I point out, shaking off her theories yet again. I spent about twenty minutes with her and she seems more like an innocent bystander than an antagonist.

"You never usually underestimate strangers. Are you going to defend everyone you find attractive?" Atticus accused, stepping forward and beside me so he could give me an arrogant smirk, his arms crossed over his chest. Any chance they get, my siblings accuse me of having a crush because I've never had a serious girlfriend. Even if I say sorry to a girl for accidentally bumping into her, they claim that I'm in love. It's almost sad how desperate they are for me to have intimate feelings towards someone.

"So, because I doubt a tiny blonde girl with a love for children's cartoons is a supernatural sociopath, I must be attracted to her." I exaggerate, looking between all three of them with an 'Are you serious?' look.

"That's exactly right."

"Even if she was the ugliest person I've ever met, I'd still doubt her evil potential."

"But, she wasn't, was she?" Oliver piped up, head appearing beside me to show me his massive grin and allow me to hear his laughter.

"You guys are unbelievable." I shake my head, trying my best to conceal the smile I couldn't hide and pushing Oliver's head away from me, sliding past my sister and into our house all while ignoring the 'He didn't deny it' and the other accusations being discussed behind me.

------

g r a c i e

          "Did you hear that?" I ask Tram, immediately taking his attention away from the tv and pausing his laughter and the electronic device. Dad left an hour or two ago to finish up the transfer paperwork at his job, and the fact that we were alone and Tram was in charge, obviously heightened his cautiousness.

We sit un-moving, waiting until the sound echoes throughout the empty halls again, my head immediately turning to Tram only to find him still waiting for the noise to reach his ears. "I don't hear anything."

"It sounds like crying," I whisper, looking around in an attempt to find the source of the echoing sobs. My legs wobble slightly as I lift myself into a stand, only managing to take a small step before I feel Tram's hand grasp my wrist, pulling me back.

"It's not real, Gracie. You know that, right?" He asked, concern ringing in his voice like a phone call left unanswered. I nod, eyes focusing on the hallway where the pleas seemed to be coming from.

"I know. But, I need to go check it out."

"Gracie!" I hear him call after me as my steps get faster, swinging every door open in hopes of finding something unusual. My heart almost leaps out of my chest when I see someone, crouched in the corner of my bedroom, their body curled up with their back towards me. The small girls long auburn hair trailing down her back like a waterfall of blood.

Tram appears beside me as I slowly creep into the room, arm lifting up as I get closer to the sobbing, mysterious girl. My hand gently grazed her back, it feels as real as Tram in the doorway, despite not seeing the girl himself.

"Stop, no!" She screamed, my instant reaction was to jump backwards, the quick movement causing my butt to land on the carpeted floor with a big thump, the girl spinning around in her spot. Her cold and dead eyes connect with my wide ones, a small trail of crimson liquid running down the hole in her head to the un-moving lips of her breathless lungs. Her body fell forward, collapsing like an old skyscraper until it hit its mighty end. The sight caused the screaming cries glued to my ears to push themselves out, a loud wail sprinting from my lips in its race against time, hitting the windows and mirrors as it skidded around the room, moving too fast to take the sharp turns. My eyes had closed from the intensity of my scream, lungs heaving as they worked overtime. As soon as I opened my eyes, the girl was gone, and a gunshot rang throughout the air.

This time, Tram heard it too.

------

hopefully, the next chapter will make up for the bland ass chapter

& just to clarify "ethan" is the guy she met in the woods in the first chapter. i only realised after changing pov that he hasn't been introduced as anything other than 'weirdo' and 'bastard'

point out spelling mistakes nicely if you see them, please !

dedicated to the one and only supernovass