My True Self

Chapter 1

"You stupid b***h!" I hear as I am slapped across the face. I stood there and took it, as it didn't faze me anymore. The pain became almost to nothing. I've been used to this for so many years, I have lost count. Ron grabbed me by the shoulders and made me look at him. His rugged face with a patchy beard and mustache from not shaving in a week has been growing out, and yet again, his breath reeked of alcohol.

"Look at me when I am talking to you!" He hisses into my face and his breath lingered in my nose. Without another word, my foster mother, Carol, came into the room. A lit cigarette was in her hand and she took a drag before saying anything.

"What did the little brat do this time?" she asked, ever so softly. I knew that her attitude was going to change next and that she was going to be the next at taking swings at my face. Ron looked over to her and let go of me, pointing on the ground over a dish that I had dropped and shattered on the ground.

"She dropped a plate and made a mess. Her and her clumsy ass!" Ron yelled. Carol looked down on the ground, sighed and walked over. Stepping on the glass and hearing it crunch under her shoes as she did so. Before she got closer, she raised her hand and swung at me as well, making another blow into my face. Before I could look up, she grabbed my chin and had me look her in the eyes. They were green, which didn't match her red hair or the rest of her body. She may have been a thin woman, but she was always the one who would have kicked my ass into line again.

"What did I tell you about breaking my s**t?" Her voice was yet still calm. When I didn't answer her, she tightened her grip around my chin, nearing my throat and notifying me that choking was going to be next if I didn't say anything to her.

"To not to." I grunt at her, and her green eyes seemed to have darkened with anger.

"Exactly! That's why, when we get back, this s**t better be picked up, or so help me, God, I will beat you until you are bloody. Is that clear?" I look at her and agree to her. She lets go of my chin and steps back. Taking another drag, she takes the cigarette and puts in out on my skin. I wince at the burn, but try not to make a face, knowing that if I do, I was going to be punished again. Once she was done putting the cigarette out, she threw the butt on the ground and turned around.

"Ron, come, we are going to be late to the party, my dear." She grabs his hand and keeps walking out of the room into theirs. Carol always switched boyfriends just about every week. Ron was the newest edition for about a month now, yet every now and again, she will bring in a new one for the night. I roll my eyes in disgust and get on the ground to clean up the broken glass and the butt of the cigarette. Once I finished, I got back to doing the dishes. Before I was finished, Carol and Ron came out and into the front room.

"Gwen! I want this house spotless by the time I get back. If it is not, you know the price!" Carol yells to me as she exits the house and closes the door behind them.

"Yes, ma'am." I grunt under my breath, knowing that I am already talking to myself. It takes me a couple more hours before I am finished with the whole house. The home is big but not too big. It has 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms that I have to clean. Every once in a while, if I feel like f*****g with Carol, I switch a couple things around in her bedroom and make her feel like she is loosing her mind. It's my safest way of getting back at her without getting a beat down later.

Once I finish the chores, I take myself upstairs to my room. It's the smallest room of the entire house and it barely holds enough room for my cot of a bed. It's almost as if it is a storage closet. I have only 3 pairs of clothes and a small fold up mirror, hairbrush and cheap eyeliner in the corner of the room that I use every day for my make up and to get ready for the day.

I sit down in the corner of the room and grab my mirror and look at my face. The bruising is nearly gone and the cigarette burn is practically healed. I usually heal rather fast, though I've been told that I have a higher rate of white blood cells for healing quicker, whatever the hell that means. I change out of my clothes into a baggy black t-shirt and sweat pants. I put my only bra with the rest of my clothes and lay down in my bed. The only blanket I have is a sheet and my room is always the coldest. I've gotten used to it and to be honest, the cold doesn't really bother me much. It never really has.

I laid there for a few hours before I heard the car doors of Carol's car slamming shut downstairs. I listened and waited for her to start yelling for me to come downstairs, yet today, she didn't. Instead I heard her and Ron laughing and giggling all the way to her room. Once I heard her slam the door shut behind her, I knew that I was safe for tonight. The only thing I was not happy about was hearing her moaning and banging her bed into the wall, having s*x with Ron. I rolled over and tried to fall asleep, trying to distract myself from the noise.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I’m running through the forest near my home. The moon was full and bright and the trees and ground were covered in fresh snow. I could hear a creek of water in the near distance and run to it. When I reached it, I looked in the reflection and saw that I wasn't human, I was a wolf. A beautiful wolf, with black and silver fur and bright blue eyes. I felt free and alive, yet I didn't feel like I was me, but I was someone else. I never had felt this before! I drank from the creek and as I did, I heard a howl. Not one, but multiple. I looked up and before me stood a pack. Instead of running, I stayed and they bowed their heads. I howled in acceptance. After, I turned around and ran back to the house, making sure I was not followed on the way. My soul felt broken at this moment, yet I felt safe when I was near the pack.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I woke up from the weird dream I had and my head felt groggy. I began to force myself out of bed and my body had shooting pains all throughout. Maybe it was from working on the house so much yesterday. None the less, I brought myself to my feet and went over to my mirror. I checked my face and arm and saw that they were fully healed. At least I wouldn't have any scaring for school.

I got dressed, put my black, long hair into a bun and put on my eyeliner. I took another look at myself before walking out of the door. I tried to be as quiet as possible walking out the door, making sure that Carol didn't hear me. As soon as I was out of the door, I felt safe. It was cold and snowing again outside, and without a coat, it didn't bother me too much, yet I felt a shiver down my spine.

The walks to school was usually brutal, knowing that my high school is over a mile away. 9 months out of the year, its cold and snowing. At least this was my senior year and I was going to be free from Carol and her s**t before the school year was over. I've wondered many times if I should just run away, find somewhere else to go to finish my schooling, but with nowhere to go and no friends, really, it would be impossible. I've saved up enough throughout the years from stealing from Carol every so often to get my own place as soon as I turn 18. '4 more months,' I think to myself, reassuring myself that I can make it through it all.

As I neared my school, I noticed that I was one of the few that was first here. I always get here early to do my homework and assignments. I don't take any of my schooling home, knowing that I would never have the time there and the fact that Carol keeps taking what I have either way. She used to always tell me that schooling doesn't matter, that I can drop out and get my GED and be fine, just like she did. She would rather have me as a maid around the house and have me around to be her paycheck. That's all I've ever been to her.

I walk into the school and go straight to my locker to get my backpack and supplies. Before I could open my locker, a hand held it closed and I instantly felt cornered. I knew who it was. He was the reason here that I have no friends and has bullied me since I've been going to school with him since 8th grade.

"Gwen," he spoke as if he was excited to see me and that he was happy to torcher me again. As if my life wasn't hell enough.

"The f**k you want, Braden?" I say between clenched teeth. His friends around me ooh at the sight of me backtalking him. I look over to him and his standard jock body. His hair was a fair brown hair that was slicked to the side.

"Aw, Gwen, are you not happy to see me? I was just here to do my daily check in." His smile was evil and rude at the same time.

"Can I please get into my locker? I have s**t to do other than be surrounded by you idiots." I'm used to a brawl every now and again with them, and I'm not scared. I have to go through abuse as is. Before Braden answered, he chuckled, looked around to see if anyone or any teachers were around before he raised his hand and slapped me across the face.

"I would see better respect from my woman than you," he whispers to me as he leans in to tell me.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you beat the living s**t out of her just to shut her the f**k up, don't you?" I grunt to him. He raised his hand again and before he could land another blow to my face, I hear a holler down the hall.

"Ladies!" the voice barked at the men and they all turned around and noticed that it was the coach.

"Coach," Braden said, acting innocent. "Good morning!" The coach came near me and must have noticed a handprint on my face. He pointed for Braden's friends to leave but Braden stayed.

"I expect to see you in my office in 10 minutes." Coach said, turning to Braden. Before he could say anything, Coach barked at him to move it. As Braden left, he glanced at me, signaling to me that it wasn't over. I knew that it wasn't over anyways. It never is. Coach turned back to me and raised his hand to look at me but as he did, I flinched. He lowered himself instantly and knew that I was not okay.

"Did he hurt you?" Coach asks me. I nod no. He looks at me with gentle eyes. "You can tell me," he reassures me.

"I'm not hurt. I'm used to it, really." I bite my lip when I realize what slipped out of my mouth. The Coach gave me a concerned look and as he did, the bell rang. 's**t, I didn't get to do my assignments.' I think to myself.

"Gwen, is it?" Coach asked, I nodded. "You better be on your way to class. I don't want you to be late," he said as he began to walk toward his office. "I want to see you after school!" He yelled to me, his back turned and still heading his direction. I let out a sigh of relief and open my locker and get my backpack and supplies. I head to my first class before the second bell, notifying me that I was late.