Specail?

étrange Fire

"Hey, the names Rain. What's it like around here?" She asks stretching her arm out like she wants to shake hands.

"The names King, Amber King," I say in a mysterious James Bond accent. Causing both me and her to laugh. "You like that movie series, too!" I asked in bewilderment. I mean, there is basically no one in this school that likes Jame's Bond apart from me. There all to focus on their werewolf studies, finding their mates or trying to get a high ranking position in the pack to watch a 'dumb shint' of a movie. There words, not mine.

And yeah, did I forget to tell u, I'm a werewolf. Everyone in the school is a werewolf except the odd humans here and there. And before you ask, yes I am the alpha's daughter. So the question is, why aren't I popular.

Because really, who wants to be one of those stuck up bxtchs that gets everything they want and wears pink all the time. Yep, that's not my style. I like being me, just a regular tom-boy, but you can't really be a regular person when you turn into a wolf, now can you.

Ba-Dum Ba-Dum, Ding, Ding, Dong,

The noise splatters my eardrums, breaking me out of my thoughts, just enough to see Rain get off and sprint for her life, out of the classroom. Now, that has me intrigued.

Grabbing my books, laptop and pencil case, I stuff it into my bag, before running off, to try and catch up to her. And to tell you, she is one fast wolf. Like Usain Bolt needs to bow down and take notes.

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Getting out to the oval is like a miracle. knowing me, I would have fallen over and tripped against multiple people in the corridors. But yet, here I am in one piece, holding my hand outstretched to rain. Asking her, actually no I was more like telling her, to come back. Except all she did was stare at my pointed hand and turn around, proceeding to try and get away from me.

Keyword; try.

She was just there, failing her arms out like a penguin on a treadmill running machine. A scream breaks me out of my thoughts.

"What. Have. You. Done. To. Meeeee!" It yells, getting louder and louder through the sentence. Almost like the greenhouse next door, windows will smash. But I can faintly see some cracks alive, moving up and down. Probably if she yells any louder, I know for a fact that it will just break. CA-BOOM!!!!

"I'm not doing anything," I answer, severely frustrated on how she thinks I could do something like that. It's not like I can make the earth do my biding, but actually, the thought of that sounds pretty cool. Not that I'm gonna take over the world or anything. Defiantly to much attention directed my way for that. I need a job that something simpler.

Wait how did we go from talking about what I'm supposedly doing, to Jobs.

A sound startled me out of my thoughts. The sound of someone thinking that a load of bull was my answer. But can they honestly think I have freaky powers? I'm not Hermione Granger, last time I checked. Nor am I wonder woman. I would have to think I would know magic or never met any boys in my life. Which is ridiculous, because I have a brother and there are no such things as magic. And before you ask, No, there is no such things as witches, their mythical creatures.

Creeping forward, I got to show that I'm not doing anything. That idea was full proof until I realised, what the funky-doo-da is going on. Sometime, somehow the earth was able to wrap itself around Rain's foot, hulting herself from going anywhere.

Bending down, I try to grab a feel of what's going on. Rocky underwood meats my palm in surrender, foraging back into the barrows of where it was meant to stay. leaving her shoe ripped apart and bar for the world to see. Vines creep through my legs, wrapping back against the tree that they were born into.

Standing back up, I catch the flicker of relief before it gets over-pushed with the feeling of the words. I'm-not-doing-anything BS, flicker through her crystal grey eyes making me tremble where I am and nearly fall head over into the business of bloody plasma cells.

Yep, I guess I was wrong. But how I just did that, I have no clue in my whole existence.