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The Lost Werewolf Queen

The Lost Werewolf Queen

Author: Alice Myra 8
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Chapter 1 one

Word Count: 1592    |    Released on: 13/07/2023

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tle to impede my vision as I was somehow able to course through it. I held my breath as I moved.

ly as I could. I felt like an eluding prisoner, ex

... I had to get to my room as fast as I could so that no one would spot that I had gone downstairs t

things had been going. The more I thought, the more I yielded to grief. I looked through the corners of my mind; yes,

learn like my peers. We had four different classes and my head felt heavy. I stepped ou

sky blue skirt and I could see that everyone wore the same thing. Yes, my bag was a tad old but it didn't l

yed back in class? I turned to see just a few students left. They, wh

alk back home. I noticed a few footstep

low dow

ird. You don't

That's the only thing

ifferent. I ran back home but it was never the same. I cried so hard that I lost my voice. I wondered why everyone ju

he pain was so deep that I cried in my thoughts. I wiped some off my

Me too. It was the only thing in the house that always welcomed me with open arms. Well, maybe not arms but yea

right hand to shield my eyes from the very bright light that threate

pposed to answer the question of an unknown person? I w

e her face. "I just went downstairs to have

looking all over for you. You didn't even thin

. I'd always heard that the eyes of liars were slightly larger when they told a

. It was a constant beyond any argument. She was clearly in search of

can have some time to myself, Amanda.

torch directly into my eyes but I quickly raised my left hand to block it.

old as I am. A few months younger, to be precise. What makes y

on a switch when she found it. Perhaps, she needed me to see the narro

addressed in that

eserved it and even more. She started the who

y picking the words out of my mouth. "Have you ever

..

ver feels right with you. No one would ever want anythi

here anymore. Everyone loathed me; the old and the young. What's the use of being in a place where no one likes you at

uld. I couldn't bear to spend one more second in that house. I was

, I stumbled upon a few portraits of myself. Beautiful pictures. I

dow and watch the other kids play, knowing that they'd never let me play with them. When they saw me p

han once; the fact that she wasn't my mom. She never stopped talking about it. I never got tired

'd always ask but she

Could it be that she also thought I was a

e fireworks that burned through the heart of loved ones. That wasn't to be the case here. I was already more than 18, so they must have

bag was quite heavy as I had packed a good number of clothes. I grunted as I

es ago. It didn't matter. I had to focus on what was ahead. An empty street and a blank page to write my new story on. I

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