CRACKED BUT NOT BROKEN.

I always knew I could be more than the packs punch8ng bag, I just must survive until my 18th birthday and meet my wolf. My name is Seleste but every one calls me Salel, and I am quite stunning to be b*aten and abused daily. My waist is as curvy as a country hillside with a pear shaped bottom to match. I have a nice rack sitting at a 34 C and one of my favorite assets. Though you would never know this because of the baggy hand me downs I get from the lost and found in the school's office. I have fire red hair that lacks its natural shine and pouty full lips with a natural liner around them. The only good meals I get are at school in the cafeteria where I shovel as much food as I can before returning to the pack house of horrors, where I eat scraps after everyone has had their fill of the meals I prepare daily. My eyes are what I love best about myself, they are lightest shade of hazel with flakes of the brightest gold you can imagine. No one notices because I keep my head down and try to become invisible whenever I am in the presence of any of the other pack. My skin has the nicest tan, on my already light brown complexion. If it wasn't for the constant cooking and cleaning, and daily a$Sault one might call me beautiful. I am a member of the Dark Shadow Pack in the country side off Illinois where it seems humans forgot the town exist. We are the second largest pack in the Midwest. We take pride in our elite warriors, the Midnight Riders, and beautiful shewolves who birth strong pups. So with all this beauty around, I bet you are wondering how I came to be the outcast. Let me take you back to my tenth birthday. "Salel I bet you can't catch me," screams my older brother Solomon as he dashes in the woods as fast as his pre pubescent legs can take him. " You better slow down before you run into a tree like the last time you thought you could outrun me", I scream towards my big brother. Us wolves have heightened senses and amazing abilities even before we get our wolves at the age of eighteen. Solomon runs into a clearing near the packs favorite hangout, Lake Shadows. I stepped into the clearing with the feeling that something is off. Being that it is Saturday and there are no laughter of children or newly shifted wolves learning to play in wolf form. Not even any newly mated couples going hot and heavy "Solomon come back here, something is definitely not right". We need to get back soon to make sure we are not under attack. As the words leave my mouth a huge black wolf with white stripes down his back like a skunk jumps from the treeline, rabid and foaming at the mouth. I scramble to Solomon who is in shock, and pushes him behind me taking a defensive stance. Three more mangy looking rogues jump into the clearing with obvious murder on their minds. The smell of blood and rotten flesh drifts from the rogues as I take in deep breaths. I try to think of a way to get me and Solomon to the safety of the pack house. Solomon is now all confidence as he pushes from behind me and launches at the first rogue Skunkie making the biggest mistake of his very young life. The skunk looking leader jumps into the air clamping down on Solomons throat in one quick movement causing blood to spray on me and the remaining wolves. Something inside of me snaps like a rubber band and I see the rogues eyes bulge and shake with an un human like speed before turning to dust. That is the last thing I remember before I black out.