The Luna Of The Lake

"You think you can get away with this you worthless mutt?!" These words were like a slap to the face. Nothing I hadn't dealt with before. But you'd think, my own uncle would treat me with a small amount of decency. "Get up. You need to clean up before making us dinner" Leroy said with venom on his tongue, kicking me in the ribs. I hear a crack and a wimper escapes my lips. Yet another broken bone to heal on its own. Slowly, I walk over to the crystal clear blue lake, the only bath I've known since my parents, the Alpha and Luna of the pack, were brutally murdered by my uncle and his second mate. His first mate, Josie, was so sweet and kind to everyone in the pack that Leroy decided she was not good enough for him. As I remember the good times, I glide underneath the water, so clear you could see straight to the bottom no matter how deep you were. I used my single bar of soap to wash my flaming red hair that hung just below my shoulders. Then onto the rest of my body, my skin so pale it reflects the moonlight that danced on the water. I look at my reflection and see the eyes of my mother looking back at me. One eye as blue as the waters I bathed in and one as green as the grass I once played in. If it weren't for the freckles splattered across my face, I'd swear it was my mother under this water. Next is the bruises and open wounds. After all these years, you would think I'd be used to the pain. That I'd be able to wash the wounds without crying out. Sadly, I could never be that lucky. Once the blood is completely washed away, I prepare my mind for the walk back to the pack house. As I step out of the water, I see my tattered jeans and shirt that is three sizes too big. No time to dry off, so I slip them on and they cling to my wet skin. I sleek my hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of my face while I cook a meal that I'll only get morsels of. As much as I'd love to sit by the water and watch the moon rise into the sky, I must rush to the pack house to cook. There aren't many of us, our pack is small, weak and looked down upon by the others. Maybe fifty of us total. The smallest pack I've ever heard of. Known as the Crystal Lake Pack, we've become the joke of our kind. Just four more days until my 18th birthday and I can leave. No one can be kept against their will at the age of 18. Sadly this year my birthday falls on the day we host an Alpha meeting. Rather than enjoying my freedom, I'll be cooking for every Alpha and his Beta this side of the country. After dinner, I make my way to the small hut that has become my home. I lay my head down and dream of freedom. Ready to shift, ready to run. Three days and I will be free. I sleep through the night, dreams of running through the woods flash behind my eyes.