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(no subject) [Jul. 17th, 2015|12:22 pm]
[Tags|, ]

I didn't know why I bothered coming here. Even my brother had imprinted.

I hope it didn't happen to me. The idea grossed me out. Fixating on a person, stalking them until they had no choice but to give in. I thought of Sam and Emily. How I got tossed aside like trash so he could obsess over and stalk my cousin. Then he had the nerve to rip off half her face.

No, they could keep this part of being a werewolf. They all seemed to think the battle was over. The Cullens were off doing their thing. Being rich and pale. There hadn't been a vampire attack in months.

So they thought.

I was off at Washington State majoring in pre-law. I had friends who weren't constantly in my brain. The work was fun and challenging. I wanted to be a lawyer and fight for the little guy.

It had taken some time to control my wolf self. So many things made me want to explode into a horse-sized wolf ready to tear out throats. I wasn't ready to give up all of this power though. Not when I could put it to use.

I was proud of being the first female wolf of this pack.

Besides, the battle wasn't over. I didn't know why the boys couldn't figure this out.

Wandering in the woods with a bikini tied around my leg so I wouldn't freak people out i could hear their thoughts. All of them were focused on girls. Was that all they could think about?

Angry, I ran through the woods, loving my speed when suddenly I smelled a disgusting vampire and crashed into him in shock.

It was Bella's dad, Charlie. As if he had been turned into a sparkly male model. I was horrified at first, but when he revealed he wanted to team up and go after bloodsuckers, I was ready.

Finally. A useful vampire! Someone who wanted to use his power for good and not just sit on his glittering white ass!

The tricky part was classes. I had weekends free. We watched the news, I looked online trying to find patterns.

Charlie was not good at using the internet. I had to teach him and he caught on quick.

Our first kill was a lucky coincidence like our meeting. i was just walking through the streets of Seattle when i smelled a blood sucker. He dragged off a woman and was trying to drink her dry. Before I could even wolf out he ran off leaving the woman confused and dazzled.

I called Charlie and he was on the scene in a few hours. Super speed and he still would rather drive. It baffled me.

We sniffed around for the bloodsucking leech. We hung out in cafes at night. We skulked around in Charlie's car.

Finally Charlie heard the vampires thoughts. In a matter of minutes we turned him into body parts. We dragged him into the woods to burn his body. I roasted marshmallows on the purple flames making smores.

I offered one to Charlie who gave me weird looks as he turned it down.

"That's the one thing I miss." He said with a sad sigh. "Chocolate. Eating food. I miss sleeping and dreaming too. I never knew how nice it was to just close your eyes and have all kinds of crazy dreams. It was like my brain was making a movie."

"Being a werewolf is better." I told him. "I can eat what I want. Sleep and I'm not a marble manikin. No offense."

He looked so glum. I wanted to cheer him up somehow, but I didn't know how. In his position I'd be pretty pissed too. In fact, I had been in his position. Having a change I never wanted forced onto me. I made the best of it. I wasn't going to let being a werewolf stop me from doing what I wanted to do. I was going to use my powers to help people. Even if the rest of my team was too busy imprinting on little girls to do their jobs. No vampires were going to kill humans as long as I was around. And when we got powerful enough, one day we'd take on the Volturri.

I wouldn't rest until every serial killing bloodsucker was dead. I knew Charlie agreed with me.
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(no subject) [Jul. 16th, 2015|08:17 pm]
[Tags|, , ]
[mood |creativecreative]
[music |Stupid noisy neighbours]

After days of pain and agony and a year of blood lust I emerged from the Cullen's basement. My daughter was standing there holding a cup of deer blood. I drank it without looking at her.

I would never forgive her for biting me.

"But if I didn't turn you, the Volturri would have killed you!" she whined.

Only she didn't say it. Her words appeared in my head. Images of her with her sparkly, marble husband also appeared. Shuddering, I stalked out of the house, the thoughts of the Cullen's smacking me. Jacob was looking at my granddaughter thinking of how much he couldn't wait for her to grow up.

I groaned.

She could have at least asked me first! Explained what was going on. But typical Bella. She never tells me anything! She always lies, sneaks around, does whatever she wanted.

I had enough. I wanted my old life back. I wanted to be a cop.

I ran to La Push. At least the one good thing out of all of this was I could run fast.

I nearly gave my friend Billy a heart attack. He was thinking, he's dead! What's he doing here? Now he's a bloodsucker? No! I can barely even recognize him!

I didn't bother talking to him. What was the point? There was no way my friend would want to fish with me. I could hear all of his hate.

All the thoughts were, bloodsucker, treaty, where's the wolves, fear and hate. I went into the woods and stared into a stream.

I couldn't even recognize my own reflection! I looked like some kind of model or something. A SPARKLY model! Like someone had splashed glitter all over me.

Horrified I ran again and crashed into a medium sized grey wolf. Her thoughts were angry and confused. I dislodged myself from her.

Bella's dad? What's he doing here? She was thinking. I had never met this wolf before. How did she know me? The wolf ducked behind a rock and returned as a beautiful, young woman wearing a bikini. Harry Clearwater's kid.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I don't know." I sat on a rock feeling miserable. Her weird wolf smell wafted around me. "You're one of Jacob's wolves?"

She growled. The sound was weird coming out of her human throat. She muttered swears under her breath and words I didn't really want to think about too closely.

"I don't have classes today, so I decided to visit. I don't know why I come back here. The other wolves hate me. They're too busy with their imprinted slaves to bother with our original purpose. Even my brother isn't interested."

"Vampire hunting?" I said. I half wanted her to kill me. I didn't want this. I wanted to be a normal human, hunting criminals, not taking down animals for blood. I thought for a moment.

"The Cullens drink animal blood." I said more to myself than her. She scoffed.

"Do other vampires do the same?" her thoughts told me as much. i didn't WANT to pry into people's brains. I didn't want to invade their privacy, but I just couldn't help it.

"So they can drink animal blood, but they choose to eat humans?" I asked her.

"The Cullens aren't any better." Leah sneered. "They probably could raise cows or something and drink those instead of endangered animals. But of course, they'd rather be fancy instead of being practical. Probably could donate the meat to animal shelters, but that's not good enough for them."

She had a point.

"So they KNOW other vampires drink humans and they don't DO anything about it?" I was horrified. I wanted to go out and nail these bastards. I couldn't stand the thought of innocent people dying. And to think my daughter wanted to become one of these things? "I'm going to do something about this!"

"You can't go against vampires alone." Leah said. "I can help!"

"You?" She looked delicate. I wanted to protect her. She stripped off her bikini before i could avert my eyes and exploded into the giant wolf again.

Oh, yeah. How could I have forgotten? The whole point of these wolves was to fight vampires. And imprint on girls, Leah's thoughts had told me.

She gave me a wolfish grin. She was picturing us taking on evil vampire after evil vampire. I'd have a purpose. WE'D have a purpose.

"But don't you have college?"

Not everyday. Besides. Summer's almost here.

I raised my hand, she raised her paw. We bumped them together. This would be the start of something beautiful.

"Except you smell terrible." I told her. She thought, I was one to talk.
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(no subject) [Dec. 10th, 2013|10:33 am]
I need to start using Livejournal more.
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(no subject) [Dec. 3rd, 2011|04:21 pm]
1) Three ways that you are stereotypically a girl, and
I get weepy at the end of Pixar and Miyazaki movies.
I go, "awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" over mushy movies.
I like cute things

2) Three ways that you are stereotypically a boy
I like men's clothes and dark colours
I'm not afraid of snakes and spiders, though some men are scared of those.
I like swords and some action movies.
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I miss Bernie [Oct. 31st, 2011|11:00 pm]
Because I lost him Halloween of 2008.
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Writer's Block: Between a rock and a hard place [Oct. 12th, 2011|10:25 pm]

What's worse: a pit of snakes or a pit of spiders?
Neither. I love both. As long as the snakes aren't venomous they will find me in the pit going, AWW LOOK AT HOW CUTE THIS IS!
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Let's try this [Apr. 4th, 2011|07:27 pm]
For the last 3 years it had been the same ritual. She spread the knives and razor blades like a fortune teller spreads her cards. There's a bottle of pills.

Here it comes again, that pull. I have to turn away from the light. That cold raw pain keeps bringing me back.

She had a bottle of strong alcohol, vodka, she hated the stuff, but it had to be strong enough to give her the courage to go through with it. She realized she could have easily used a gun, but thinking of the mess someone would have to clean up always made her reconsider.
She didn't want to traumatize anyone. She just wanted to stop feeling so cold and dead, but every time she tried to do this, go out to a ledge, fall off a bridge, step in front of a car, something always stopped her.

How many times had she called me back? Just as I was about to find out if there's a heaven, over and over, that cold sad darkness would send me back to her.

She's about to carve into her veins, her arms are scarred. She always just misses the vein. Not this time, she takes a swig of burning vodka. She forces her to drink. Maybe she'll be able to do it this time. The blade caresses her wrist. There is no pain, she closes her eyes.

Hell no.

It's that hot rage again, knocking the blade out of her hand, spilling the vodka. She shouts a swear at the same time the rage washes over her.
She wish she had that much passion. She picks up the knife.
It falls out of her hand, the pills fly across the room.
Her twin was always the passionate one. Fire to her ice.

It's all she can think of. Dying.

Even now she could see her standing in the corner, A woman who looked like her, her eyes blazing at her with all the life and fire she lacked. She wasn't the child she thought she'd be. She always had an image of being in heaven, a grown woman, with her sister, still 8 years old taking her by the hand and telling her to run in these fields.
She didn't really believe in heaven.
She couldn't stop imagining that small mittened hand in hers.

I couldn't stop thinking of how much I wanted to be her, or at least to have taken her with me.

Whatever it was, the alcohol, lack of sleep, her subconscious started to talk to her.
Whispering to her.
"You're not real." She picked up the vodka bottle and downed the last drops in it. She could break the bottle and use the broken pieces? The bottle flew out of her hand. The... she refused to call it a ghost stood glaring at her.

Is this how you waste your life? Constantly trying to die when I want to live?

She thought about her first experience of death, a hamster, a fish floating belly up. Her grandmother laying in her coffin, not burying the both of them in her ample, old powdered scented chest while cooing over how cute they were.
Not one thing prepared her for this.

You keep calling me back. Every time you sit here thinking of killing yourself I keep having to come back. Why do you keep DOING this to yourself? Going over this constantly. Why can't you get over it?

That wet mittened hand, slipping downwards, her sister sinking taking so much with her.
It had been her idea to play on the ice in the first place. They were outside of their parent's supervision, running around feeling like big kids. Her sister always lead, she followed. She was the bold one, running in front of her in her pink jacket and snow pants telling her to hurry up.
It happened so quickly. One moment she was running, laughing, looking to see if her sister was catching up, the next...
She was in a hole, her sister was clutching her hand.

It didn't really happen like that, you know.

She tried so hard to pull her from the ice, but her hand slipped away and she watched her sink, screaming, people ran over and grabbed her from the hole.
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I'm not listening to these songs, but let me try [Apr. 1st, 2011|07:31 pm]
[music |Evanescence-Like You]

She sat looking at the impliments spread out before her. The usual tools; knives, a razor, a bottle of pills. If only she could get a gun, but she didn't want to traumatize whoever would find her body.
Who was she kidding? She could never drink enough to get the courage to end it. Something kept her clinging to life, but she couldn't understand why.
It was always, constantly winter inside her. The last time she had felt warm was wrapped lovingly in layers of thick clothes along with her sister. Her snowsuit was pink, her sister's, blue. They looked alike, but they were different in so many ways and enjoyed annoying each other.
It had been the first time they were allowed to play alone together outside. They had been forbidden from playing on the ice.
Her sister had always been good at doing things she wasn't allowed to do. She always had to have her way.

Even now Beth could see her, not as the child she always imagined her to be, but as an adult, it was like looking in a mirror at a version of herself that knew what it was like to be happy inside.

"You're not real." she told her, picking up the razor blade and trying to carve carefully into her skin, away from her veins. The blade slipped from her hand and flew across the room. She stared into her own angry eyes.

"Stop it!" she screamed. Her sister walked carefully across the ice. Backwards. She looked at Beth, smiling, two teeth missing from her mouth. Her laugh became a look of shock as she fell through.

"Is this how you waste your life! Like this! Constantly trying to die, when I want to live?"

Beth grasped her hand, holding tightly to it, her mittened hand was going numb, she tried to pull her back up even as she could feel her trying to pull her down.

"Every time I try to go to, where ever I'm supposed to go, I feel you calling me back here. I've watched you walk around like a zombie, never fully alive, never actually trying to live. Why?" she screamed, and Beth could feel the heat of that rage, that longing, a sadness so deep, matching her own, she couldn't stand it.
"You're not real." Beth said, reaching for another razor blade. She could barely even feel the pain. She hadn't felt anything since that February morning. The heat again, that rage, the slippery blade fell out of her hand. She wanted to roar with rage herself, but there was no anger inside of her. Only cold. Always cold. It could be the hottest summer day, and that's all she'd feel. She had gone to therapists. Nothing helped. She couldn't forget that last image of her sister, falling into the lake and her trying to join her before hands grabbed her by the waist and dragged her away screaming and fighting. She got loose and tried to run back to that hole only to slip and be knocked out.

Her first experience of death had been a hamster looking like it was sleeping, an upside down fish, her grandmother not getting out of her coffin to hug her and her sister when they were a set.
She couldn't believe this had happened to her sister.
She saw her in her coffin in a frizzly dress she would have hated. Beth was the one who loved frilly dresses. She wanted to curl up beside her liked they did after a day of fighting, of disgusting each other and being separated by their mother, only to cry until they were back together again.
She wanted to just climb beside her, wrap her arms around her and go where she was going.

"She's hurting in a way we just can't understand." Her father's voice had said as she lay in bed alone. He had scooped her up and put her between him and her mother. Cuddled between them, she still felt cold inside, like something she needed was missing.

She had even tried to jump into the hole.

"No." All the hot rage that was left of her sister said. "This is ridiculous. Why do you go over this constantly?"
"You don't know what it's like to have to live without you."
"Oh, really? I don't know what it's like? Do you know how badly I want what you have? To be ALIVE like you, breathing, blood in my veins, just living."
Warmth, feelings, longing, heat filled her body.
"What are you doing?"
"Joining you."

Writing feels good. But this is very bad. Send me some opinions
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(no subject) [Mar. 31st, 2011|08:35 pm]
This woman from Overdream has a great voice.

Man, I want voice lessons or something. I will have to add that to my thinks to do list. Along with GET AROUND TO FINISHING A NOVEL!
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I should post here more often [Mar. 27th, 2011|10:08 pm]
But I post on facebook more. I'm cheerfully OBSESSED WITH MUSIC! Man, I LOVE THAT STUFF!

I need more of it. I constantly have to have it. I think music should be liquefied and dripped into my veins.

Technically it might as well be as I can taste it, smell it, feel it on my skin and see it in colours based on key.

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