Lost and Anger
My name is Paul and I live in LaPush, Washington. Nothing happens here, ever. It's the same day in and day out, raining like no get out. Unless, of course, you're in on the little secret.
Then, you may as well leave the continent 'cause they'll never let you alone.
I mean, no one can know the secret. Especially a human. We were sworn to protect the humans and that means to protect them in every sense, even if that means not telling them that we are protecting them. What would you do if some guy walked up to you and was like, "yeah, I'm a werewolf and my tribe of superhuman palls are running around outside your house at night, protecting you from blood-sucking creeps"? Yeah, I don't believe that would be the best thing to do.
The whole point of my life now is just to follow orders and keep guard against some undead dudes and protect a bunch of stupid humans I could care less about. Honestly, the only things I really want to do in life is to run like I was at present and getting in a few good punches. My mantra in life: you have not fully lived unless you've got in a few good punches. It's not a hard thing to live by, all things considered.
I'm the hard-headed, angry one of the group. It's not hard to get me riled up and I'm sure that's why I don't really have a lot of friends. But it's not like I care. Like I said before, I don't really give a crap about humans. According to Sam, who sometimes appears to be my own personal therapist, it's just because I am angry and upset about the loss of my humanity. I have no idea who died and left him the therapist, but whoever it was got way off base with this one. It's not even close... I think.
The truth is, I have no idea why I am the way I am. Just lucky, I guess. Anyways, I came to a sudden, crashing halt at the boundary line, the invisible line between the forest and civilization. Jared's house stood in front of me, slightly tattered and battle weary from struggling through the ages, but a proud remnant of all that was great from the past and a reminder of our ancestors who had lived here before us. Usually people on the rez tried to keep their houses with in their families. It's kinda like a tradition or whatever.
I exhaled slowly and felt the change come quickly. Things like this, they are easy to control if you're in control of yourself. Unsurprisingly, I'm often not in control of myself, so you get what you get. Which is usually that I'll explode into a lovable ball of fur in seconds if I'm set off enough. That's why I enjoy it when I actually am in control. I love being able to feel my bones lengthening, shortening, expanding, whatever it takes to get it into either form. It's really pretty cool. I grabbed an extra set of clothes I often hid at Jared's house since I'm always there and stalked over to his front door.
Ever since the change and stuff, me and Jared have been Sam's lackeys, doing his bid and jumping up to fulfill every whim. If it sounds like I'm a little sarcastic or whatever, it's because I am. I mean, really, for a while now I've been following orders issued to me mentally by a guy that's the same age as me, or the approximate anyways. It kinda urkes me, really. And I know, it can't be helped. That's just the role life has chosen me to fill. But it doesn't me I have to like it or anything.
Sam's always been one of my best mates. It's just that... as time wears on, I can't help the slight rebellious urges that are taking over me. Jared realizes what's going on inside my head more than anyone else, which is something else, let me tell you that. It kinda puts you off when you have a ton of people floating around in your head all day, sharing everything about you, knowing everything there is to know, ultimately.
I knocked softly on the door. It was early morning and no normal person should be awake. I know Jared's parental units would flip if they had to get up and, knowing Jared, he already knew I was coming and was probably right next to the door. He was freaky like that. Sure enough, he came bounding out of the house, not bothering with a shirt. I rolled my eyes at him.
"We gotta patrol the perimeters. Sorry, dude. No late mornings for you," I said with a smirk, earning a smack on the back of my head.
It was common knowledge that the only thing Jared couldn't take about being a werewolf was his loss of sleep. Which really, I'd second that if there weren't so many more things that sucked about being a werewolf then that. We have Embry for that. Stalking into the woods, we shed our clothes; neither of us bothered by the others nakedness. It was just a fact of our lives and we were comfortable with each other and our bodies. But then, we always had been. That's what happens when you grow up so close to each other and spend practically every second together.
One minute, the indentations we made in the soft soil of the forest were bare human feet and the next; paws were padding lightly on the ground. We both relished in the feel of it all and then bounded off in a playful attempt to get this down quicker and take our minds off what we were actually doing.
The fact remained that the reason we were like this was the leeches that had made their nest so close to our woods, one of which had even taken Jake's best friend, Isabella Swan. Silence greeted my thoughts, which let me know that Jake was no longer wolfed out. I smiled softly or did whatever it is we did in our wolf forms, grateful that he wouldn't hear anything until later. Even I wasn't cruel enough to point out directly to Jake's face that his best friend wasn't his, would never be his, and that she, in fact, belonged to the one creature we were sworn to hate.
That must suck.
Author's Note: Hiya! It's me again. I'ma apologize for that fact that this has taken me so long... I've been extremely lazy, I won't lie. At least I can update this one! I can't even begin to think of how to start the next chapter on SIB.... (sighs) Anyways... There's not much else to say. The next chapter, I will work on soon.
And don't get your hopes up: this will be a short story, just reminding you! No longer then six or seven chapters. But since I like Paul, I might actually do another one... Different than this will turn out though, 'kay? I have tons of ideas and stuff but so little room... (shakes head)
I definitely don't think I need to do this, so I'll only do it once: I do not own Twilight or anything associated to it. That right all goes to Stephenie Meyer. I own nothing but that plot. Thanks.
Thanks mom! :-)
ScarletRubie: Yeah, I didn't think that they had said anything about his last name in the stories. I just wanted to make sure, so thanks for that. I completely understand... and thanks for reviewing!