AN- Decided to have my go at a werewolf story after reading a bunch supernatural romance books, well…supernatural SEX books. Sex always gives you inspiration eh? You might as well have an open journal out with a pen next time you are with your man.

Fuck off with your sofa units and serine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may.

– Fight Club

Chapter 1- Before You Leave

Well I don’t want to exactly say, ‘HI my name is Sakura and I am a pink werewolf! Well, if my freakish hair somehow manages to appear in my wolf form that is. I’ve come to this rehabilitation center with you freaks to make myself feel better. Over the past few years I have been mangled, mutilated, dumped, harassed, fired, avoided, and I have to constantly shave because of my furry side. My day job? I use to be a high paid doctor, one of the select few that got to make super colossal amounts of money. Now I am a secretary for a bounty hunter firm in name only because frankly, I can’t even remember ever even completing a job. The good news is that my abusive family left behind a big enough fortune that I could probably live off of for the rest of my animal life. Funny how life can bite you in the ass sometimes, in my case? It was literally.

Could I say that to the awaiting posse of autistic self help groupies? Presumably not, but I would give them one hell of a show.

I broke down crying with my hands covering my face.

“My mother…was a crackpot…and my father…(I made sure to make the sob before this line was extra dramatic) was a mass murderer (actually he was a bank accountant, minimum wage average worker which still makes me wonder how in the hell he left me such hefty amounts of money)…he killed my…sisters and (A hiccup added to the rising tension…naturally I am a good actor after going to these things for months now) he would’ve killed me but the police had come just as he was raising the knife…so ever since then I turned to drugs and alcohol to help me (almost to close to true but I think they are down for the count)…” I slowly peeked through my hands to see if they bought my acting and oh baby they did; hook, line, and sinker.

I stuttered and recovered my face as if there was nothing else I could say because the trembles racking through my body were too much. Although I must admit from the stress I have had lately some of these crocodile tears I was shedding in front of this audience may have been a bit real. The cult leader of the group got up from his seat in the front row and patted my back as if it was okay and I could sit down now. Did I really mean cult leader? Of course not, he was the superintendent of this deplorable shit-hole.

As I headed back to my seat a few people nodded at me as if they felt my pain. Mi casa es su casa, eh?

The only time I paused while walking by the rows of seats was when a bald obese man, possibly in his 40’s, had grabbed my sleeve and blew into it. Or at least, those were not his intended actions but all I could think of was that this ugly disgusting man was wiping his nose on my favorite blouse shirt. It was covered in starfish and now? They had a yellow blob at the end of my sleeve as a new friend.

“I-I-I (Oh for heaven’s sake, spit it out already) want y-you to k-know that your s-story was very m-moving and I-I feel for y-you. If you e-ever want to come over a-and release more of y-your past I will be h-here for you.”

I swallowed the bitter sarcasm that was rising to my throat like bile. Truly? I wanted to say, “In your dreams grease-ball.” His intentions were wanton.

“Well,” I reminded myself to beam at him in thankfulness, “I appreciate your offer and I will consider it but lately I have been so busy. Maybe when my schedule clears up we can set something up.”

I added a few words of absolute crap consolation and then walked back to my seat. Lifting the sunglasses from my natural pink hair and shielding my now closed eyes from everyone in the room, I began to let my mind wander. I wondered why my life had to go to such complete shit out of everyone in the whole world. I figured I was going to die soon, my parents always told me that my pink hair was some sort of chemical enhanced accident. Then again, my parents were always slightly weird even before my father managed to kill mother dearest.

Going to this group was a genius plan from the beginning; they had flyers posted about this self-help place all over the grocery stores. The amount of times I saw this place advertised was ridiculous, the town wasn’t that small! …okay maybe it was. My point is that I still haven’t had anyone tell me how you can help yourself when yourself sucks; there could still be some wisdom in my bullshit logic.

Still, no matter how shitty my life seemed to be, these people always had something almost or just as bad going on. At least I didn’t have breast cancer, cancer in general, a penis with a vagina, some random disease, four kids with the dad missing, a crush on my sibling, or anything else that seemed like something off of Jerry Springer.

Clearly the key answer I was looking for could solve my fur problem, I drifted off to sleep in the back of the auditorium praying that by the time I awoke this hellish group session would’ve ended.

“Sakura!! I can’t believe you did that!”

“Oh you better believe it! They won’t be sitting on their butts for a week!” The young teenage girl grinned, her emerald eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Don’t you ever mess with a woman who has clear intentions of revenge,” one of the girl’s next to Sakura smirked at the statement while a few of the others could only nod in agreement.

“So party at my cabin then Ino?”

“THE mysterious cabin currently located in the middle of nowhere?”

“That would be the one.”

“…let’s do it.”

Sakura startled herself awake, her face paler than usual. The dream was starting to occur again.

She hated this, she just wanted to forget.

A perpetual nightmare…after four years.

Story Notes:

This is a bit of a prologue but I didn’t want to mark it as one. It is short (Ha-ha I will admit it) but the next chapter will definitely be longer and you will get more of a background on Sakura’s life. Gaara you ask? Oh he will come. Trust me.